Page 177 of Toxic Salvation
Pavel reaches around and pulls out a chair for me. With a sigh of defeat, I sink into it, and my aching legs flood with immediate relief.
“No, V. He’s thepakhan. He needs to be the one to talk to everyone, to reassure everyone. This is his job, and it’s not an easy one. That’s why it takes a strong man to handle it, and Kovan is the strongest man I know.”
“But should he have to be strong all the time?” I plead.
Pavel looks taken aback by the question. Like I’ve asked him why water is wet or why the sky is blue.
“Yes,” he says simply. “He’s thepakhan.”
“Well, screw this. I’m going to bring him some food and water, make him sit down for ten minutes and?—”
Pavel steps directly into my path before I’ve even fully risen from my seat.
“Would you excuse me?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“No, I will not,” he says politely but firmly. “You can’t be seen taking care of him, V. I told you: He’s the one in charge here. He needs to be seen taking care of everyone else.”
“But—”
“He needs to show strength now. And that’s hard to do when his wife makes him sit down so she can hand-feed him grapes and dab the sweat from his brow.”
I shoot him a withering look. “That’s not what I’m trying to do.”
“I know,” he says. “Look, I know you’re trying to help. But trust me—this is not the way to do it.”
Biting back my frustration, I listen to Pavel and stay in my chair. But I keep my eyes trained on Kovan the entire time, watching him work the room with the skill of a politician and the authentic care of a man who actually gives a damn about these people.
“How much longer is this going to go on?”
“For as long as it needs to.”
My knees threaten to buckle with the fatigue of this endless day, and I’m the one sitting down. I can’t imagine how Kovan feels right now.
But looking at him, you’d think he was carved from granite. There’s no crack in his armor, no sign that he’s going to slow down anytime soon.
I desperately want to go to him. Want to wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and hold him until the tension finally leaves his body.
But Pavel has a point. Everything in this world is about power. About perception. About never letting them see you stumble.
Kovan leaves the widow and her son, ruffling the boy’s hair before moving toward the front of the room. He approaches the raised platform where pictures of the fallen men are displayed among elaborate wreaths and garlands. Flowers I had custom-made, specific to each family’s requests.
I’d felt proud of myself in the days leading up to this funeral. Proud of my small contribution.
But now, standing in this room filled with grief and rage and desperate hope, my flowers seem so insignificant. A pretty bandage on a wound that will never fully heal.
Kovan takes the platform and the entire room falls silent. Every eye is locked on him. He’s always had that effect on me, but now, I realize I’m not special.
He’s managed to make everyone in this room fall a little bit in love with him, too.
“This day is about remembrance,” Kovan begins. His voice carries easily across the massive parlor, aided by the pin-drop silence. “This day is about appreciation and gratitude. Five men lost their lives in my service, and we are here to say goodbye to each of them.”
He pauses. I can feel the room holding its collective breath.
“But none of that is why I’m here today.”
The silence becomes absolute. Not even the sound of breathing.
“I’m here today to make a promise. To the five men who died in my service and to their families, I’m here to tell you that I will not let these deaths go unanswered. There will be retribution for what we have lost.”
