“No, Mommy, no,” I wailed and lunged toward the coffin, and my foot slipped on the icy snow.
My dad jerked me back by the hand and prevented me from falling. “Stop it,” he snapped in a low voice.
“She’s not dead! She’s not,” I sobbed.
“If I have to tell you one more time to behave yourself, you will be sorry,” he hissed through his teeth.
Whispers surrounded me, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was my mommy.
The wooden casket lowered into the ground. The motor stuttered and screamed. The man working the machine winced as my dad cleared his throat to show disapproval.
“My apologies, sir.” The white-haired man stopped and restarted the motor, and my mommy continued farther into the grave.
I whipped my hand out of my dad’s and crossed my arms over my chest. He may have been the only parent I had left, but I was angry at him for having her funeral five days before Christmas. He’d said it was better to get it over and done with before the new year, but I would never be ready to say goodbye to my mommy.
Red roses covered the top of the box. Mommy hated roses. I’d told my dad she didn’t like them, especially red ones, but he hadn’t listened. I glared at those ugly flowers and vowed never to look at another one for the rest of my life.
It was the coldest December day I’d ever experienced. My teeth chattered, snot froze in my nose, and my tears hung on my eyelashes like icicles. Maybe the extreme weather was typical for this time of year. Or not. Perhaps it had everything to do with my broken heart and empty soul.
“Thank you all for coming. My daughter and I appreciate you paying respects to Christina, our beloved, on this frigid morning.” Dad put his hand on my back. “Let’s go.”
I couldn’t leave her. Once I did, I would never see her again. “No, I have to stay with her! She’ll be all alone.” I dropped to my knees and crawled toward the grave, ignoring the snow seeping through my black tights.
“Jesus Christ. You’re making a spectacle of yourself. You deal with her,” my dad barked.
“My sweet, Brynne. Oh, my darling, I know how devastated you are.” Uncle Dorian lifted me off the ground and held me tightly.
I reached my hand toward the grave and cried, “Mommy come back.”
“Shh, love. I’m here.” Uncle Dorian kissed my cheek and carried me to the car. “I’m brokenhearted too. But I assure you, my sweet. I will always be with you forever and ever.”
Dorian’s sinister chuckle brought me back to the present, and a chill shot down my spine. He planned to make good on his promise of being with meforever and ever.
“Do you want to know what’s coming?” Dorian asked. “Warrants for murder. Have you spoken to Gina lately, Brynne?”
Gina? My eyes bulged. I tore myself away from Joseph and darted to the window with my heart in my throat.
I squinted but didn’t see police cars, although the sound of sirens got closer. Just as I blinked, there they were, several vehicles driving up the mountain in our direction. Pine trees surrounded the compound like a fortress. I loved being here. We were on top of the world, almost within arm’s reach of touching the clouds. It appeared we weren’t as safe as I’d thought. There was only one road up and down the mountain. How could we get away?
“You son of a bitch. We didn’t kill Gina,” Joseph shouted.
“Doesn’t matter. My reach is far and wide.”
Had Joseph killed Gina or one of the other bikers? Oh my God. What was happening?
“Goddamn it!” Joseph sidled up beside me and snaked his hand around my waist.
“One more thing,” Dorian said, and I imagined him smirking. “How’s your brother? Might want to check on him. I’ll be in touch with details later…” He ended the call.
“Jesus Christ! He has my brother… Our brother!” He turned on his heel and went toward the bedroom door to leave.
I grabbed his arm to stop him. “Did you kill Gina?” My stomach churned, and my heart raced. Would I even know if he lied?
“No. You were there. She was alive when we left.” He screwed up his face like he couldn’t believe I had accused him of murder. “Dorian’s men must’ve killed her. Do you believe me?”
“Right.” I nodded rapidly, which only made me feel lightheaded. “Right, I… I…believe you.”
“Good.” Relief crossed his face. “We gotta go.” He took my hand, and we rushed downstairs. All kinds of noise and shouting bounced off the log walls. “Dad! Dorian threatened Raymond!” he yelled. “Who has the kids?”