Page 27 of White Raven
It was over.
She was truly gone.
He was wholly alone now.
It was cold as death out here. Fitting. The massive grave marker she hid behind did nothing to shield her from the biting wind as Wren watched the service for Brent’s mother a safe distance away. She couldn’t make out a word, but it didn’t matter. He saw her. She knew the moment his face turned in her direction. She could almost feel that stare. Fuck it…shedidfeel it. In all its soul-eating grief. The melody of the hymn that the pipers played echoed off of every stone in the cemetery—haunting and beautiful—and Brent’s face crumpled and hid behind his fingers.
She had done the right thing, hadn’t she? Telling him to stay away? It was best for both of them. It had to be. Mistake or not, they weren’t ready for this kind of drama. She wasn’t ready to be doused in the stench of anything romantic. Even if she was…the fact that it was someone she hated…
It didn’t do her any favors…this lying to her fucking self. She didn’t hate him anymore. She couldn’t. Wren knew better than anyone at this point that sometimes it took hittingrock bottom to knock the sense into you. Acknowledging that wouldn’t hurt her…but anything more than that…
She lit up a cigarette and leaned against the freezing stone, watching as the crowd dispersed and talked amongst themselves. Sarah eyed her and nodded, turning towards Athan while Brent stepped away and made to cross the broken pavement of the path that circled around the graveyard. She didn’t miss all the wandering eyes—and photographers that did little to remain hidden around worn blocks of memorials. If she let him get close, they’d be made into another spectacle for the tabloids…and how wonderful would that be? But he was…broken. There was a decision to be made, and she had about five seconds to make it. Turn away and send the message that she didn’t care…or meet him halfway and throw her fucks to the wind to let him know she was grateful for all his sacrifice.
Wren tossed the cigarette down, snuffing it out with the toe of her combat boot and shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie as she started down the slope towards the path. She could feel every eye watching them as she approached him, and he paused in the middle. That look in his eyes. That pain he set free that he told her he’d continue to lie about. He wasn’t okay. They stood about a foot apart and he dropped his arms to his sides.
“Hey, bitch boy,” Wren smirked. Her voice broke, and she barely recognized it. Brent’s blonde hair danced over his brow in the wind. He forced a smile, but the dimples that peppered his chin as his face drew up in anguish set her off. She lunged forward, throwing her arms around his neck and he collapsed around her, burying his face in her hood. Brent’s arms tightened around her middle, and she squeezed as she rocked back and forth. There was nothing she could say. Nothing that needed to be said. He forcefully sobbed, and she broke rightalong with him, shutting the rest of the world out for a moment and being the outlet they both needed.
That was it…
That was the moment she realized she might have always been in love with BrentfuckingStratford.
“Did you know?” Athan asked as Sarah inconspicuously watched the interaction between her ex and her best friend. The irony of the situation was laughable, but what her heart felt when they’d walked in on the two of them sucking face in that hospital was a far cry from what her heart felt now. It broke for them both and seeing them together like that after all they’d been through…a warm tear raced down her cheek. “Sarah…” His thumb swiped over the unwelcome display of emotion, and she flinched, looking up at icy blue eyes that understood.
“No. I didn’t know. She seemed pretty hell-bent on not coming out of that bed.” She sniffled and wound an arm around him. “Why the fuck does this feel so much more intense?”
You’re still learning how to live in this body, Sarah. Everything will always be twice as much.
His hold on her tightened, and he glanced over to where Wren and Brent had finally pulled apart. Even with her heightened senses, she couldn’t tell what they were saying with all the commotion of parting mourners around the tent.
“When Mom died, I had no one. My old boyfriend had been such a prick when I decided to sell the house. I met Wren at the coffee shop where she used to live. It was my third day in Boston.” Sarah smiled. “She had just moved there a month or so before from Denver.”
“I thought her parents lived in Andover?” Athan pointed out, scrunching his brows.
“They do. I think the move was a big reason why Wren and Peggy had a big falling out. That and plenty of other shit. Peggy didn’t approve of Wren’s career choices, or practically anything else. They moved there to be closer to her. Which was the last damn thing she wanted.”
“Are you okay?” he asked, glancing back at her before his eyes flashed behind her shoulder and his brows lowered. She knew that look. Something was up. Sarah turned to see a strangely familiar-looking woman in a dark red peacoat, watching them from the steps of the chapel with a phone on her ear and a cigarette between her fingers.
“Who’s that?”
“That…I don’t even wanna get started on,” Rhaena offered, arm-in-arm with Brandon, who shined up like a new penny in his three-piece suit.
“Her name is Ryan Sykes. She’s Fleabag’s new partner.” The coy chuckle through Athan’s nose earned him a hard punch to his arm and Brandon got himself one too, for giggling.
“I hope you’re happy, jackass. She’s gonna be following me everywhere because of you.” Rhaena cut eyes at Athan, and Sarah narrowed hers at the new girl. “Laugh now, but I don’t wanna hear shit when that dainty little nose is all in your business. Especially when you hear what I have to talk to you about after this funeral.”
“She’s on our case?” Sarah asked, suddenly very uncomfortable with that notion.
“Unfortunately, I wasn’t really given a choice,” Rhaena answered, rolling her eyes. Captain Foley made his way towards them and Sarah caught a mistrustful look in Rhaena’s eyes as she lowered her voice. “Not here.”
Foley approached, raising a thumb over his shoulder. “When did that happen?” he asked, nodding towards Brent who was walking back to the tent alone with his hands in his pockets. Wren was nowhere to be seen. “I thought they hated each other.”
“I think you were there when that happened, Cap.” Jenkins answered, keeping his voice down.
“Really?” Foley asked in disbelief. “I guess that makes sense. Didn’t see that coming. Good for them.” He turned his attention to Athan. “It was moving…what you did in there. I’m ashamed for not thinking of it myself.”
Athan shook his head. “She did Boston a service. One that deserves to be recognized. I don’t want recognition for that.”
“Well, you’ll get it anyway. At least from me,” Brent cut in, offering his hand to Athan. Something in Sarah’s chest tightened as they firmly shook hands. “Thank you, detective. It means a lot.” He shot his attention around the group. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all of you being here…and carrying her out. It couldn’t have gone better.”
