Page 41 of I Am Lioness

He. Was. Killing. Me.

And he knew it too, a devilish little smirk curling his lip.

Slick bastard.

Breathing through the urge to pounce on him, I cupped his chin and pecked his lips again. “Naughty boy.” I teased.

“Oh, baby, you have no idea.” He chuckled darkly.

We managed to behave long enough to actually eat the breakfast Knox had cooked. Granted, we did feed each other which led to stolen kisses in between bites but the point was that we ate and cleaned up the kitchen just in time to get ready for the long day ahead.

It wasn't until I shed my pajamas and was standing under the scalding spray that the reason why we were here came flooding back to the forefront of my mind. A monstrous wave of guilt washed over me and I began to bawl, trying my best to keep quiet.

How could I have forgotten in the first place?

How could I have experienced such happiness amidst a time when I should have been grieving?

What was wrong with me?

I went through the motions of showering and washing my day old hair with an endless stream of tears rolling down my cheeks, melding with the water raining down on me.

Reflecting back on each day since Bernie had passed, I realized that—for the most part—whenever I was with Knox, I was happy. I could breathe, I could function. Yes, there were moments of utter grief where the pain was nearly unbearable but Knox seemed to be my cure-all.

He cut through the torment and lead me back to the light, the light that only seemed to shine around him. His presence was a soothing balm that helped me cope and I didn’t know whether to be thankful or alarmed that he had such power to clear the darkness from my mind.

An hour later, I had tamed my curls and dressed in the very black dress I’d worn one too many times, for the exact same occasion. I was standing in front of the full length mirror beside Knox’s massive bed, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles on it when there was a knock at the door.

“You ready, baby?” Knox asked quietly, poking his head inside the room.

I willed away the tears welling in my eyes and nodded, turning to grab my black heels from the bag I had laid on the bed. Slipping them on my feet, I tucked away the everyday essentials into my black clutch and dragged my ass to the door where Knox stood. He smiled when I peeked up at him, bringing a hand up to cup my cheek.

“Beautiful as always.”

I scoffed, feeling anything but beautiful. I didn’t want to feel beautiful anyway. I wanted to look and feel as hideous as my conscious told me I was. Not an easy feat when you had Knox Carr looking at you like you were indeed the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Bypassing his compliment, I tipped my head up and planted a soft kiss on his cheek instead.

We drove in silence to the service with Jason and Emmanuel on our tail in Manny’s SUV. As per the instructions on Bernie’s will—which was recovered by Jason back in Austin—there was to be no viewing prior to the memorial like a traditional funeral. Typical Bernie, very simple and straight to the point. He never liked people fussing over him. Made sense he didn't want a fuss in death either.

When we parked in front of Wayfarer’s chapel, my stomach began roiling. I knew what awaited me inside that marvelous glass structure and I wasn't ready to face it. I wasn't ready to say goodbye to my old man or come to terms with the fact that he was indeed gone forever.

Knox squeezed my hand knowingly before coming around to help me out of the car. The door swinging open startled me for no apparent reason other than my nerves suddenly working on overdrive. I took a deep breath and placed my shaky hand in his, setting my feet onto the pavement.

Looking around, I noticed how gloomy the day had become. Dark, thunderous clouds loomed above us and a slight chill rolled through with the occasional breeze, swaying the palm trees and rustling loose leaves across the parking lot.

“It's going to storm.” Said Jason, as he and Manny approached us. “We better get inside.”

Oh, it was going to storm alright, both in and out of that chapel. I could already feel it brewing within me, threatening to unleash its wrath at any given moment. Dread and utter fear filled my veins and my chest began to heave in time with the speedy tempo of my heart rate.

Knox slipped an arm around my shoulders as we moved toward the doors, hugging me closely to his side.

“Breathe, baby.” He reminded me.

I nodded and tried to focus on how beautiful the interior of the chapel was. The walls were massive rectangular windows held together by thick wooden beams that met overhead in a peak. Some caved in, holding bushels of vibrant greenery that drew your attention to the view just beyond the glass. It was breathtaking.

As we stepped further down the aisle, a small smile tugged at my mouth when I noticed people seated in the pews. I wasn't expecting to see anyone in attendance other than us, not even Bernie’s daughter. The obituary we’d submitted to the newspaper must have reached those who truly cared about Bernie in one way or another and the thought warmed my heart. But that warmth quickly froze over and the smile on my face vanished when I caught sight of the casket in the center of the stone altar.

I gasped as his lifeless profile came into view, jerking me to a stop in the aisle. My head spun and the contents of my breakfast rolled around in my stomach, creeping its way back up my throat. Shaky legs dropped me to my knees and then a guttural sob rattled through me, echoing in the silence of the chapel.

Bernie’s funeral was no less painful to experience than any other I’d had the unfortunate opportunity of attending. I sat between Knox and Emmanuel, attempting to hold myself together after the breakdown I’d suffered when we first arrived.

---