Page 167 of White Raven
“I’m ready.”
The service couldn’t have been more perfect. Jenkins even managed to get Commander Hale to speak after the pastor, and the heaviness slightly lifted as Athan side-eyed Jenkins, Rhaena scoping them out from his other side as they smirked at each other when they spotted two familiar faces on the other side of Foley’s casket. Brandon carefully elbowed his arm, lightly chuckling as Longson and Dennings—two men they’d all giggled about over bourbon—stood shoulder-to-shoulder in silence. Foley was likely howling in laughter from his bird’s-eye-view right now.
“I’m gonna pommel you both,” Rhaena whispered through her teeth, though Athan knew damned well she was trying her hardest not to smile. She looked really good. Her hairwas in a tight, elegant knot behind her neck, and her hat sat pretty over her forehead as she knit her gloved fingers in her lap.
The cemetery was packed. The entire precinct was here. Foster and her team had their own version of special dress uniforms and sat two rows behind them. Sykes was also here, with Leigh, who looked so worn with guilt you could practically chisel it from her face. The governor, the mayor, and half of city hall attended, sitting across the aisle in the remaining front seats. A few judges joined them in the second row, who were close with Foley—one even served with him in the military. Sarah, Wren and Brent were forced back a few rows, but she occasionally reminded him through silent conversation that she was right there with him.
Four pipers, and a line of marines carrying their guns took their places, and Commander Hale finished his speech, gesturing for the congregation to stand. This was the moment he’d dreaded the most today. Athan’s heart cracked as flowers were moved, and the first notes of ‘Amazing Grace’ began to sound through the graveyard. He could barely hear the orders ringing out, as his fellow officers, Foster and her team included, all raised their hands to their heads, and the first gunshot thundered into the air. The pipers continued to play, the second shot echoing through his bones, as a slow tear crept down one of his cheeks. Hale assisted a highly decorated marine, folding the captain’s flag flawlessly, while the third and final shot rang out. They stood stick-straight, and silent until the song was finished, and Athan’s limbs felt heavy as he slowly lowered his hand to his side.
They were ordered to be seated—all but Rhaena, who the unfamiliar marine approached solemnly bending to whisper his condolences as he placed Foley’s flag into her hands. Rhaena’s face tightened, and her shoulders slightly shuddered in silent sobs, and Athan nearly lost his composure as she accepted ithumbly. The marine stepped to the side, and gestured towards the casket, and Rhaena paused at the impressive casket spray, plucking one of the largest white roses, and moving to place it gently on top of his casket. She saluted him, swiping her arm down, and turning sharply, taking her place back at her seat and lowering herself on wobbling knees into it. The flag sat cradled in her lap.
Their entire row took their turn, Jenkins hardly able to stop himself from audibly crying as he laid his rose down…and then it was his turn.
Athan glanced back at Sarah, who dabbed her eye with a tissue as she smiled, and dipped her chin. He took a red rose—blood red. His hand remained flattened against the casket and for a short moment, all the images of being locked inside a casket in Baltimore flashed through his mind. There wasn’t hell raging under this lid. There was peace. His captain would never suffer through anything again, and somewhere up there, he had to know how loved and respected he was.
“Thank you, sir…” Athan whispered, saluting him. His hand swiped out, and he returned it to his side as he made his way back to his chair. The branches of a tree that towered over the funeral tent knocked together as a gentle breeze washed through the congregation, and as he joined his partner, and his comrades…he could swear he felt him answer.
The pipers replayed a single verse as the casket was lowered into the vault. Every person…human and otherwise…remained still and silent until the very end. With Sarah latched onto his arm afterward, they all mingled with old colleagues, and he introduced her around, making small conversation with this person, and that person. Rhaena finally decided that she couldn’t take anymore and prompted them all to start wrapping it up. Foster approached him, with Sykes and Leigh.
“I can only hope to have at least one soul at my funeral if the time ever comes,” she smiled. She looked nice, too. Sarah snorted, and shoved her in her shoulder.
“I’ll come. If for no other purpose than to make sure they add a few nails.”
“Yeah, well…don’t forget to dance. I might have to come back and haunt you,” Foster grinned. “Hell of a service, detective. He’d be proud.”
“You know,” Sykes said, staring off at Foley’s fresh grave. “I’ve never actuallybeento a funeral before. You guys set the bar pretty high.” Sarah scoffed, and clutched Athan’s arm.
“The first one, you watched like a creep from across the street. The second, you conducted all by yourself.” Her tone was harsh, but Sykes accepted it with grace. She raised her eyes apologetically to Athan.
“I really am sorry. After all that’s been said and done…I really appreciate the invitation, Kane.”
Athan smirked at her. “I didn’t extend it. That was your cousin.”
Foster nodded towards Athan, urging Sykes to tell him something. Ryan smiled. “Dear cousin, Rhaena…is trustingmeto take Ashina back to the west coast. We leave tomorrow with Foster, and the team. Rhaena would like me to ah…‘feed her to the wolves’.”
“Guess you don’t have much of a choice now, do you?” Sarah asked.
Ryan shook her head. “Nope. And I’m happy to do it. Without an elaborate explanation, I’ve basically become her second in command. She’s gonna lead her own kind of pack…I’ll take care of our people out west. I promise not to be a thorn in your side ever again.” Ryan’s lips turned up cunningly in the corner, and she wagged a brow. “Although, I’ll miss the hell out of the elaborate peep show you two put on in that apartment.”
“Jesus, Sykes,” Foster griped, rolling her eyes, and tugging her by the sleeve. Ryan grinned, winking at them, and nodded towards Leigh, who stayed back a moment longer.
“This is what you want, Leigh?” Sarah asked. Leigh’s head hung sadly, but she smiled anyway as she raised her eyes to them both.
“I love her, Sarah. I know I don’t need to ask if you understand. I talked to Wren about it. She’s left her door open to me if anything ever changes…I just don’t think it will. Sarah, you know what it feels like to be the outcast. We were all outcasts together…you and Wren found your place. This is mine.”
“The band of misfits,” Athan smirked. Leigh nodded.
“I’ve done enough damage here. I need a fresh start somewhere else. I hope you guys understand, and…I’m never gonna forget Malcolm Foley. I’m so sorry, Detective Kane.”
Athan extended a gloved hand, and Leigh hesitated, looking him over with a confused expression before guardedly taking it. They shook firmly. “You were never supposed to be in the middle, Leigh. I knew my captain. He’d never see it as anything other than an accident, and even if it weren’t…he’d gladly die to protect and serve. That’s what we swore our lives to. There’s nothing to forgive.” A rogue tear flew down Leigh’s cheek, and she gently smiled through it, lip quivering. “Go chase life,kid.”
Sarah glanced up at him, and the sad smile she wore bled everything she felt for him.
“Always misfits?” Leigh asked.
“Always,” he smirked.
Her pink hair blew in the light breeze as she disappeared into the throng of leftover mourners. Rhaena crept up in her place, holding Foley’s flag close to her chest. “Ready to go?”
