5. Chloe
5
CHLOE
I thought the worst day of my life was the one when I buried Kevin’s casket. I was wrong.
The worst day of my life is when I have to force myself to walk into the building where one of Kevin’s friends, and his lawyer, will read his will.
I’m not even able to walk into the building on my own. I just freeze.
What thirty-three-year-old man has a will in the first place?
I know it is standard practice for all Marines to have one, but I don’t have to be there for it. They can just put all of his money in an account that I’ll never touch. Ever. That money is his. And one day, I’ll figure out how to handle his death. Maybe I’ll donate all of it to a charity meant to help veterans.
Yeah, he’d like that.
I can’t even force myself to go into the building. I stand there, holding my arms around my body, trying to use the act to physically hold myself together. But I feel it. Pieces of my heart and soul seep out through my fingertips, and I can’t move. My limbs are frozen in place. My feet refuse to listen to my brain.
The sound of an approaching vehicle doesn’t even do anything to spur me into action.
As the familiar truck rumbles and then shuts off in the parking spot next to mine, the tears finally start to fall. Tears that I can’t stop, even if I want to.
“Chloe.” Ian’s voice breaks through my pain.
“Ian,” I cry his name and reach for the only comfort that I can stand. “I can’t.” Unable to tell him anything else, I just cry.
“You can.” His voice cuts through the fear and the pain, forcing my brain to pay attention. “You have to. Because you’re the strongest person I know.”
I look up to see him watching me, stubborn and perfect even in my grief, and like I can’t stop the pain and the anger, I can’t stop the words from coming out. “I still hate you.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I want to take them back. To apologize. To plead with him. To explain that I’m in pain and acting like a child. But nothing comes out. It’s the stubborn side of my brain again, keeping me from admitting I’m wrong.
“I know.” He holds me tighter to his body for just a second, before leading me into the building, and I clutch his hand to keep him from vanishing into thin air.
My mind has been doing that to me lately. In the middle of the night, I’ll wake up and see him on the other side of the room, only to blink and have him be gone. Just a figment of my imagination, a shadow in the night that I can’t even ask for comfort.
“I don’t want anything from him.” We are standing outside the office of Mays, Sharpe, and London, and I want to leave. “I don’t want to be here.”
“Me either,” Ian admits. “I thought about turning around with every mile that passed. I wanted to run. To jump on my bike and ride across the country or hide in my apartment and shut the blinds forever.”
His words catch me off guard, but they shouldn’t have. Ian has always been this way, especially with me. Painfully honest, even if it makes him look like less of a man. But it never does. If anything, Ian’s honesty is the best trait that he has as an adult. Even better than his body or his looks, things he can’t control.
“Do you remember the day I tried to ride Kevin’s motorcycle, and it crashed?” My question hits Ian, and the sad smile that overtakes his face tells me he does. Of course he does. It was the day of our first kiss.
“You know he knew, right? I had my license longer than him. I was a better rider than he was. He knew I didn’t crash his bike. But he let me take the blame because it meant that much to you.”
An errant tear leaks out from my eye, and I swipe it away before he can see it. “I know. He taught me to ride the next week, after it was fixed. I loved that about him.”
“You’re his little sister, Chloe. He’d do anything to protect you.”
I can’t answer him or apologize like I want to, though, because the door opens and Benton Mays stands there with a grimace.
“You made it.” He looks behind us, biting his lip before turning back. “None of the others are here yet. Come on in. We’ll have to wait for them before we can start.”
“What others?” We don’t have any other family. “There’s no one but me left.” I’m confused, too, because it’s only been me and Kevin long enough that any will he had would definitely have taken that into account.
“The unit,” Ian says quietly. “That’s why I’m here. Kev specifically requested us to be here.”
Right. They are his family.
Were his family.
“We’re your family too, Chloe.” Ian reads my mind. “Even if you’re angry. Even if you hate us. We’ll always be there for you.”
I nod, trying to find the words to tell him that I don’t hate him. That I lied.
That I love him.
Instead, I walk numbly into Benton’s conference room and take the seat that he holds out for me, trying my best to keep it together.
“We’re here,” Remy announces as he walks into the room wearing a suit and tie.
Shocked, I look down at the jeans that I’d slid on before coming and feel completely underdressed. I should have put on a dress or something, but the only one I have is the one from Kevin’s funeral, and I never want to put it on again. I look at Ian, who is wearing a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt that I’d somehow missed.
“Shit,” I mutter as the tears begin to well in my eyes again.
“You’re dressed fine.” Ian reads my mind again, taking my hand and interlacing our fingers. “Remy’s only dressed up because he had court this afternoon. And you know what they require for that shit.” He motions to his pants for emphasis. “You know I hate wearing this shit, but I have a patient to meet with after this.”
He’s lying. I know he is because he never meets with clients in the evening. But I don’t call him on it.
“You’re grieving,” Remy says quietly from my other side. “You’re allowed to wear whatever you want, Chloe. You could show up in pajamas with a bird in your hair, and it would be okay. Trust me.”
“Kennedy didn’t change out of one of Danny’s shirts for six months after he died,” Linc says from behind me. “And my brother was a smelly asshole. Trust me, Chloe. You’re fine.”
Those men. The same ones that I said I hated, doing their best to comfort me about something that I put on, breaks my heart.
“I’m so sorry.” I sob into my hands, pulling Ian’s right along with mine to hide my face. “I’m so sorry.”
Over and over again, I repeat the words. More for myself than for them. Ashamed at what I said at Kevin’s funeral. At how it must have made them feel. I cry, and they let me. Silent support.
Until one of them pokes me in the forehead and I open my eyes to see Logan crouched down in front of me. “Hey,” he snaps playfully. “Your eyes are gonna dry out if you keep crying.”
“Leave her alone, man.” Dom growls from the other side of the room. “Let her cry.”
“No,” Logan counters, poking me in the forehead again. “What would Kevin say if he saw you crying? He told me once that you insisted on wearing jeans and a ripped t-shirt to homecoming your senior year because you were riding the crimson wave and didn’t want to put on a dress. He was so fuckin’ proud that his baby sister didn’t suffer any nonsense.”
Ian snorts. “Yeah, there are pictures of that in both of our houses.” He smiles down at me. “But she looked damn good in those jeans and my shirt.”
“See?” Logan goes on, completely uncharacteristic of him. “You’re allowed to wear jeans and a t-shirt to a fancy dance thing at school, so you’re allowed to wear jeans when you have to deal with the bullshit that comes with losing the closest person in the world to you.”
“That’s almost sweet,” Linc whispers loudly. “Did anyone get that on video for blackmail?”
“Zip it, Ball Boy,” Dom mutters under his breath.
“Okay,” Ben said suddenly. “We’re here for a reason, and we need to get down to it because the sooner we start, the sooner you assholes are out of my office.” As a whole, we turn our attention to him, and Logan turns around, sitting at my feet.
“You don’t mind if I use you as a pillow, do you?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, just leans back against my shins.
It takes me a second to figure out what the men around me are doing, but I finally catch on. They’re flanking me. Dom at my back. Ian, Remy, and Linc at my sides, and Logan at my front. They are offering me the support I need to get through the hardest moments of my life, and I almost start crying again. Thinking back, they did the exact same thing at Kevin’s funeral. Surrounded me, protecting me from anyone getting too close or trying to interrupt my grief and mourning.
I have a lot to make up for with them.
With all of them.
Ian included.
“Kevin prepared his will ten times over the course of the last ten years.” Ben goes on. “When I passed the bar, he brought all of them to me and signed a retainer so that I’d take him on as a lifetime client. I didn’t even know what a retainer was at that point. Just kiddin’.” He winks at me. “I knew what it was, but I was barely an associate. However, he helped me fumble through the ridiculous requests and stipulations he had at that time. And then, when he decided to take on another deployment, he came to me one more time. He told me that it was the last one. That he would be getting out and that he’d have to come up with something boring after that. I told him there was no such thing, and he just laughed it off. I’ve got everything in writing, but in true Kevin fashion, he also recorded a video that he wanted me to play when I had all of you in the same room in case the unthinkable happened.” He coughs to cover the tension, clearly feeling just as emotional as the rest of us are.
“I don’t know how that man was able to do it. But like always, he knew exactly what to do to embarrass the hell out of me while I had to watch and transcribe it before having him sign and notarize it for him.”
He picks up a remote without saying anything else and turns on the TV that is attached to the wall.
White and black static fills the screen for half a second before Kevin’s face replaces it. Actually, his eyeball. “Did I do this right?” He grunts and pulls the camera away from his face. “Shit, yeah, I did. I’m fuckin’ awesome, like always.”
We all watch, tittering as my technologically ignorant brother sets up the camcorder so that it rests on the counter in the kitchen I recognize immediately.
“I’m dead, you guys.” He claps his hands together, smiling at us like it’s all a joke. One of his hands runs through his blond hair and he sighs, dropping the smile from his face. “If you’re watching this, it means I didn’t get to make it to the wedding. And don’t act like we don’t all know what I’m talking about. I didn’t make it back. But that’s okay. You know why? Because I’ve got a bucket list that the five of you—” He pauses. “Wait. Let me count it out. Chloe and Ian make two. Ben, Remy, and Linc make five. Add in Logan and Dom and that’s seven. Okay.” Kevin claps his hand to his thigh. “Seven of you. Plus your partners. You know, in case Logan ever convinces Poppy to give him a shot.” He laughs at his own joke. “See? I’m dead. He can’t beat me up for that. Okay. You seven, and your lovers, wives, husbands, whatever you’ve got, are going to complete my bucket list. You know the one. The one we came up with on our first deployment.”
Every single man in the room groans.
“They’re groaning in delight, aren’t they?” Kevin asks even though he won’t get an answer. “Good. Benton here, being the most amazing and blackmailed lawyer in existence, has put it together. He’s arranged for a week off from Audrey, Chloe, because I know you’re never going to stop working for her.” He pauses again. “Wait. Did Ben record Chief Townsend’s face when he asked about getting leave for the rest of you? It’s not like he’d say no to a dead man’s request, would he?” Kevin laughs. “I would pay anything to see that.” He clears his throat, his eyes taking on a dark look as they stare directly into the camera. “Wait. I’m not gonna be able to see that. I’m gone. This list, all jokes aside, is everything I wanted to do with my life. It’s all of the hopes and the dreams and the crazy bullshit that I could come up with while I sat overseas at nineteen years old and wanted to do so that I could live a fulfilled life. I’ve added to it, taken away from it, and shared it with you every step of the way.”
He wipes his nose, and I see the tears in his eyes, even through the recording.
My big brother, the softie.
“I’m sorry I won’t be there to walk you down the aisle, Chloe. But I know for a fact that Ian’s gonna be there waiting for you at the end of that walk. And there isn’t another person alive that will ever love you as much as he does. Not even me. That almost makes up for the fact that I won’t be there to kick Ian’s ass at the next Ridiculympics. But do me a favor, all of you, okay? Have fun with this list and the week that I set up. Have a couple of drinks under the stars. Do some crazy shit while trying not to die. And think of me.”