Page 77 of One Love

My entire body is like jelly but I’m quick enough to reach it before the last ring.

“It’s Crank.” But just as I answer, the phone stops ringing.

Then starts up again.

Guess duty calls for my pretty little Reaper. Fuck.

“Answer it, I’ll be there in a sec.” I can hear the toilet flush and by the time I press the green call button, the sink water is running.

“What’s up, Crank?” There’s a second’s pause, probably the time it takes him to realize I’m not J and what exactly he can and cannot tell me.

“I…is J there?” Fuck, I do not like the sound of his voice. Not one fucking bit. Raw and gravelly, like he’s been eating hot peppers for the last two decades.

“Yeah, man, hold on.” Just as I answer him, J’s grabbing her phone, and without any finesse, she dives in.

“What’s going on? I thought we had the night off.” Naked and fucking gorgeous, she stands at the foot of our bed, probably debating on whether or not to get back into bed or get dressed.

“Fuck.” And now I don’t like the sound ofhervoice. “What happened?” Taking the two steps that separate her from the mattress, she sinks onto it, her back to me.

In a flash, I’m there, my legs on either side of hers, my ear listening in on the conversation.

“She’s gone. Just…gone. I thought she was asleep, you know? She’s a napper.” J’s nodding her head, even though he can’thear her response, but I don’t think she wants to interrupt him. “What am I supposed to do now?”

Pulling away, our eyes meet, my confused greens to her watery blues.

Then she mouths one word and I know this is going to hurt her…again.

“Fizz.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

J

Physical pain is something I’ve become accustomed to, but the pain that comes from losing someone you love is excruciating. There are people who have survived more death than me, yes, and I commend each and every one of them who are still standing, breathing, living, because this shit is hard. My stomach revolts, rolling in on itself, and I sip on my water to keep the sick feeling at bay.

I was relatively young when I lost my parents, when I thought I’d lost my daughter and left the love of my life behind, and I used that pain to fuel me. Death became the norm, my world, and I created a whole new family for myself. Then Murphy came back, only to be ripped away from me within weeks of reuniting, but my daughter came back too. This ray of sunshine in a cloudy sky. Again, I let my anger and pain fuel me into making things right, and now…Fizz.

Two weeks ago, she died in her sleep, something about a brain aneurysm that was impossible to detect, and I have nowhere to focus this pain. No way of punishing those responsible. The only silver lining to losing the one of the kindest women I’veever known, who looked after everyone before herself, is that she didn’t die in pain.

Hallie, Dmitry, and I are at the Reaper clubhouse. After the funeral last week, we decided to have our own private wake for our Fizz. Fiona. We’re all sitting around the large table where we have our “family” dinners that Fizz used to prepare, with several containers of various take-out foods strewn about. Our plates are half full, our drinks are almost empty, and conversation is flowing.

“Do you remember the time she walked in on Shoojacking offin the shower upstairs?” Flower mouths the words “jacking off”, the way you do when you’re trying to say a word you don’t want little ears to hear. There are nods and smiles all around as we listen to her reminisce. “She told him that if she caught him holding his sausage hostage in the communal shower again, she’d chop it off and cook it for his next dinner.” We all laugh at the memory.

“She would’ve done it too!” Shoo fake-shudders, sending more chuckles rolling over the table.

Fizz was a formidable woman. She was soft and loving, caring and kind, loyal to her very core, but she was also a force to be reckoned with when it came to getting shit done.

“Her blueberry pie was pure chef’s kiss.” Binx rubs his stomach at the thought, his eyes closed and a small smile on his face at the memory.

“Yeah, and the raspberry tarts were the fuc—” Tab stops mid-sentence, glancing to Hallie, then me, before grinning with a small shrug. “Her raspberry tarts were the bomb.”

I raise a brow in response and subtly shake my head, rolling my eyes a little. The fact that my crew are adapting to this whole having a thirteen-year-old kid around so well only makes it hurt a little more that Fizz isn’t here. She’d have fucking loved Hallie.

Though my initial thoughts were to keep Hallie away from the clubhouse, I have since realized there isn’t a safer place she can be.

The crew continues to share stories and my girl listens, enraptured by the tales, a huge smile on her face. That smile is everything to me, especially considering what this little girl has been through. She’s grown up so much in the short space of time I’ve known her, and I hate that part of her childhood has been marred by so much pain and suffering. This is why I’m going to continue to do everything I possibly can to make sure she has what she needs. It doesn’t mean she’ll always be this happy, but she’ll always be safe and loved.

Dmitry listens intently to the conversations too. He only met Fizz a few times and they shared some recipes at a family dinner, but his focus is mostly on me. I can feel his gaze burning holes into the side of my head and I turn to him, raising my brows in a silent question.

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