Page 28 of Cursed by Death

Kissed me on the motherfucking forehead.

I had no idea what to do with that but I was taking it as some type of small victory.

I just wasn’t sure what it meant.

Chapter 15

Ididn’t fuck around when it came to setting up arrangements for Thomas.

The thought of his dead body being shoved in one of those little body lockers in the morgue didn’t sit well with me and I hated that for him.

I skipped having some kind of church services or anything at the funeral home.

Instead I was having a priest come to speak at the cemetery. And I was having him buried near my grandmother. It’s where my mother should have been buried too. Instead I had no idea where her body had been laid to rest. The only person who did know was a man I never planned on speaking to because he was as good as dead to me.

I texted the Detective the details because I figured if he found out after the fact he would probably be pissed. And because he was my only friend.

And there was that forehead kiss I absolutely was not thinking about. It had nothing to do with that.

Nope.

Nada.

Shit.

And then I did an absolutely insane thing that I hoped I didn’t end up regretting later.

I found the phone number for the garage the shifters owned. And then I called it. After saving it in my contacts first because fuck it.

Rally wasn’t there and when I told them who I was and asked to leave him a message the person on the phone got really weird and started calling me Princess.

I had immediate regret.

Still, I gave him all the information about Thomas’s burial and he promised to pass it on to his Prince as soon as he got off the phone with me. And then he told me how sorry he was for my loss and asked me if there was anything I needed.

Seriously, the wolf shifters, at least the ones at the garage, were starting to grow on me.

I hoped Rally didn’t get mad at me for calling the garage and leaving a message there for him. I had no other way of getting a hold of him though. Next time I saw him I would have to remember to ask him for his cellphone number. And the phone number to his house.

Good grief.

Rally wouldn’t think that was cringe at all. He’d probably love it.

It took me an absurdly long time to pick out an outfit to wear to the cemetery. I knew it didn’t really matter what I wore because Thomas was dead but it was important to me. I felt like it was a way of showing how much I respected and loved the man that he was.

I picked out a simple, long sleeved black dress. It was a turtleneck, because cleavage at a time like this would be gross. And the skirt hit just below the knees. I paired it with black stilettos. They had a very high heel that I could probably stake a vampire with if need be.

I’ll admit, I picked the dress not just because it would look good but because I could wear my wrist sheaths with my knives and then have another strapped to the inside of my thigh. I wasn’t about to go anywhere unarmed any time soon. Or likely ever again.

I decided to drive my grandmother’s Bentley. It matched my outfit and had been just sitting in the garage for forever. Thomas drove it on occasion to have it serviced but otherwise it just sat there.

Having three vehicles was going to be too much for just me but until I figured out what to do with them I was going to switch up which one I was driving.

I was half an hour early to the cemetery but I didn’t care. There were flowers covering the casket and a row of white chairs in front of it.

I had told the funeral home I only needed one chair but the man must have thought I was joking. Or maybe just that one chair was too sad, even for a funeral.

I picked the chair right in the middle, front and center, and parked my ass in it. And then, with my big sunglasses on, I sat there staring at Thomas’s flower covered coffin and I waited for the priest who the funeral home had hooked me up with to arrive.

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