Page 175 of Finding Hope

My lip quivers. “Don’t leave me, Kit. Pleas–”

She nods grimly. “Funny. I’m asking you the same thing.” She turns to Bobby. “You can stay, or you can come with me. I truly don’t mind. I won’t make you choose, and I won’t get mad.” With another shaky inhalation, a gentle caress across my cheek, she turns on her heel and walks out of the locker room.

Shell-shocked, silent, she leaves behind five grown men with gaping jaws and broken hearts.

I turn away to wipe the tears in my eyes. “Fuck.”

I’ve never in my life seen my brother-in-law as pissed as he is when he steps up. “You just broke her heart!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you gonna die?”

“No.” I clear my throat. “I’ve got this.”

“You swear you’re stepping into that octagon for the right reasons? You’re gonna win?”

“I swear. This isn’t like before. I can do it.”

Shaking his head, he bites off a curse. “Fine.” He slams his fist against my shoulder. “Let’s get this shit done. You have a lot to prove, asshole. Youhave a fight to win. Then you have to call your sister, beg her forgiveness, and let her know you’re alive. But before that, you’ve gotta explain this fucking song you chose. Makes you sound like a pussy.”

38

BRITT

LATE NIGHT VISITOR

Walking along the manicured lawns for the millionth time this month, nerves batter at my stomach in a violent cacophony of regret, worry… longing.

I’m not nervous to see Steph. We’re old pals. We’re pros at this now. But I’m nervous about what’s happening right this minute on the very opposite side of our huge country. He’s so far away, and I so desperately wish I was with him to show my support.

Pride… it might be the end of me.

Just like our meeting, our break up was that of fireworks. We went down in a blaze of glory. Exactlyaptfor us, I guess.

Stopping in front of Steph’s marker, I smile like she’s here in the flesh and we’re catching up for coffee.

Despite my jealousy, I genuinely find comfort in my visits here with her.

I may have overreacteda littlewith the wholeJack and Stephthing. My distance this past week has reaffirmed that I can’t compete with a ghost. I literally can’t. Distance has given me perspective; my emotions got the best of me, and I let it smash Jack’s and my already shaky foundations wide open.

As is typical in most relationships, we’re both at fault, but I’m fairly certain I started it.

And he ended it.

“Hey, girl. I’m here. I was running late, sorry. I had to escape Alex.”

Sitting in front of her headstone, I trace the engraved letters of her name and grin. I’d like to stretch out in the sun like I usually do, but it’s going on dinnertime and the sun is long gone.

This cemetery has never really felt so creepy before, it never held that power to freak me out. It’s a beautiful space, beautiful grass, colorful flowers, established trees – though not so many that it makes the place seem shadowy and weird.

But tonight, with the moon high in the sky and all the other graves around us in shadow, being in this cemetery at night is a hell of a lot creepier than I thought it might be.

I hope Steph’s watching over me, and I hope she keeps the serial-killer-cemetery-stalkers at bay. I can’t deal with that kind of upheaval this week.

“So… he’s already there.”Don’t focus on the creepy wind. Don’t think about the cemetery stalkers.

Taking my phone out of my pocket, I swipe screens until a sign-in box pops up, then I start the process of blowing my phone bill into the next world.

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