Page 82 of Broken Instrument

“Hadley?” Fender’s voice rings out through the otherwise quiet area, but I don’t look up. I’m afraid I won’t be able to see him through my tears anyway. His footsteps pound against the floor as he makes his way toward me and drops to the ground, pulling me into his chest without waiting for an explanation.

“Sh…,” he croons as his hand rubs up and down my back. “Sh… It’s okay.”

I shake my head against his chest, my body practically convulsing as my pain cuts through me like a dull spoon, leaving me hollow. It doesn’t sting. It aches. It aches so deep, I feel like I can’t breathe. Like I’m drowning. Like my lungs are refusing to work, and no matter how hard I try to calm down, it isn’t possible.

There’s too much pain.

I’m not sure how many minutes go by, but Fender picks me up in his arms and finds a coat closet to hide us away.

“He can’t be gone,” I cry, twisting the fabric of his gray T-shirt between my clenched fists. “He can’t be.”

“What happened, Hads?” he murmurs.

“The detective. Detective Burke,” I clarify, barely able to speak past the lump lodged in my throat. “H-he…th-they found a body. They found a body, and the body has Mia’s name on his forearm. It’s the same place B-Bud had tattooed when M-Mia was little.” I can’t stop stuttering. I can’t stop sobbing. I can’t stop whimpering or making pathetic little noises in the back of my throat making me feel like I’m choking on my own pain. It’s like my body isn’t my own. Like I have no control over anything. Not myself. Not my surroundings. And not the outcome of my brother, who I spent years cursing for his addiction, only to find out he isn’t missing because of a bender. He's missing because he’s…he’s…

My knuckles turn white as I cling to Fender, burrowing even closer and shoving my face into his neck, praying it’ll ground me. That I’ll wake up from this mess. That everything will be all right. That I’m dreaming, and none of this is real.

But it is real.

I know it.

I can feel it.

And it hurts more than anything I could’ve ever imagined.

I don’t know how long we stay trapped in the coat closet. It could be hours. Hell, it feels like a lifetime. But there’s one constant throughout the hell of it all. And it’s Fen. Rubbing my back. Whispering apologies and promises everything will be okay.

And even though I don’t believe him, I pray he’s right.

Because this?

This pain?

This loss?

It’s torture.

29

FENDER

I’ve never been the strong one. But as I watched the girl of my dreams crumble in my arms, I learned what it means to show strength, and I vowed to burn down the world if it would protect her from this kind of devastation from ever happening again.

The next few weeks go by in a never-ending blur of heartbreak and tears.

Being questioned by the police. Being desperate for answers without having many. Planning a funeral. Dreading a funeral. Attending a funeral.

She moved in with me. Not officially. But when she told me she only sleeps when she’s in my arms, I vowed to never let her sleep alone again.

And I’ve kept my promise.

Honestly, most of the time, she’s sandwiched between Pixie and me in my bed, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. If only it were under different circumstances.

The police had arrested a man named Troy McAdams a while back for assaulting his ex-girlfriend, who happens to be Jake’s current girlfriend, Evie. After a month of interrogation and a plea bargain, the bastard finally admitted to his involvement in Bud’s disappearance and where the body was hidden. Though he’s adamant he wasn’t involved in Bud’s death, he did help the killer get rid of the body, which is why he knew exactly where the police could find it. After a few days of searching a forest on the edge of town, they found him in a shallow grave. He’d been beaten to death.

Apparently, Bud had asked a loan shark for some money. Where the money went, we may never know. Hadley assumes it was to feed his drug addiction, which only hurt her more.

And as for the loan shark? Troy McAdams told the police it was my motherfucking brother, Marty. He’d gotten over his own head with a loan shark and decided to spend his last dollar trying his own hand in the business in hopes of accruing enough interest from a few sorry bastards it would be enough to help him dig himself out of his own hole.

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