Page 39 of Between Hate and Desire

After a moment, she relaxes in my arms, and I look back at the two men.

“What happens now?” I ask him. “His parents…do they know?”

“He’s been transported to the medical examiner’s office, and someone there will notify his next of kin. They’ll discuss with them what happens next.”

“Wait. I should tell them. They’re like family to me, and Brandon was their only child.”

The officers look at each other again, but don’t argue with me about it. “We can’t tell you not to call them, but the staff may have already. The family will need to properly ID him and make arrangements from there.”

I nod, but that’s not going to stop me. They give us their sincerest apologies and condolences before leaving.

Lennon buckles over with her hands covering her face. I manage to shut the door, then I hook one arm under her knees, the other behind her back, and pick her up. She wraps her arms around me, burying her face in my neck as I carry her to the couch and carefully set her down.

“Lennon…” I whisper, brushing blond hair away from her face so I can look at her. “I need your phone to call them. Mine’s dead.”

After a few seconds, she reaches into her pocket and hands it over. She unlocks it, and I start going through her contacts, looking for Mr. and Mrs. Locke’s number.

“Do you want to speak to them after?” I ask softly.

She shakes her head as tears roll down her cheeks. “I can’t,” she chokes out.

“It’s okay. I’ll be right back.” I don’t want to leave her, but I also don’t want her to overhear the conversation, so I walk to my room where I can speak to them privately.

Everything inside me is numb, shocked,devastated. How could this happen? My best friend. He’s too young to die. He had so many dreams and aspirations, with a full life ahead of him. Why the hell did he have to go?Fuck.

I don’t know how to make this phone call. I’ve met his parents dozens of times at barbecues, celebrations, and have even attended family dinners. How the hell am I supposed to tell a mother her son is dead? I wish I could, at least, do this in person, but I can’t leave Lennon right now, and the medical examiner’s office could be calling them any minute.

Choking up, I try my best to get my shit together before I call. It’s late, and they’re going to know something’s wrong the moment they realize it’s me and I’m calling from Lennon’s phone. I manage to push my feelings down so I can hit their number, but then the doorbell rings again.

Assuming it’s the delivery guy, I ignore it. He’ll get the hint and leave the food at the door. But then I hear shouting.

Lennon.

Shit.

Rushing out of my room, I sprint down the hallway and wrap my arms around Lennon’s waist and pull her away. She’s screaming at the guy and saying he forgot her soda and that he’s a fucking moron. The poor man is frozen in place, and I don’t take the time to explain before grabbing a hysterical Lennon and shutting the door.

“Can you believe that guy?” she says the moment I set her down on her feet. She waves a hand in the air and scowls. “How hard is it to bring what I ordered? Idiot.”

My brows rise as I try to make eye contact with her. She’s muttering about her food order moments after she was a sobbing mess.

“Lennon…” I tread carefully. “You’re in shock. Let’s go sit.” I reach for her hand, but she yanks it away.

“You haven’t been nice to me since the day we met. No need to start now,” she hisses, taking her bag of food and going to the living room.

Holy fuck.

I brush a hand through my hair, trying to figure out what to do. Before it gets any later, I need to call his parents, so I do.

“Hello?” Brandon’s mother answers in a sleepy voice. “Lennon?”

“No, Mrs. Locke, it’s Hunter. I’m using her phone,” I explain.

“Oh, Hunter! Hey, kiddo. Why are you calling so late?”

She doesn’t know that in about three seconds, my words will change her entire life. I don’t want to be the person to deliver the news no mother should ever have to hear, and it’s going to destroy me. Brandon was an amazing guy, and he came from incredible parents, something I’ve always been envious of. Neither deserves to be given this kind of bad news.

“It’s Brandon,” I start, inhaling deeply so I don’t break down before I get the words out. “He was in a motorcycle accident.”

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