I grab onto the metal, warm to the touch and climb up, wondering if it’s going to break. This has to be some sort of old fisherman’s boat, but why something this big is in Nashville and not out in the Atlantic I have no idea. I mean, besides the fact it’s a damn rust bucket.
I glance around the boat, not seeing a soul in sight, nor do I hear even the slightest whisper. Once Seamus and Kyle board at the stern, I have Enzo stick with me and the other two head down the opposite side where we’ll all meet at the bow. We need to clear the boat, and see just what we’re dealing with. Once the outside perimeter is cleared, I’ll authorize us venturing inside.
The sun blazes down overhead of us, causing me to sweat profusely. The longer I’m here, the more eerie I’m beginning to feel. I see something move quickly out of my peripheral, and when I glance back I see that it’s just Max.
“Almost shot your ass” I comment, taking in a quick breath before turning around to see Seamus and Kyle.
I turn back, opening the door to the boat and enter. It creaks loudly as I push it open, obviously needing good bit of WD40.
“We in some horror movie shit right now?” Enzo asks, and I can’t help but wonder the same thing.
We’re in some sort of equivalent to a living area, there’s a bench on one side, a few cabinets for a small kitchenette and a set of stairs that lead above us. Off to the back there is a set of doors. “Kyle, Seamus, go check out upstairs. Max, stay here. Enzo come with me” I walk to the door, placing my hand on the knob and turn it. When it opens before me, a set of stairs going down is revealed to us. I flick on the light switch with my index finger and head down the stairwell, and when I do…I notice the built-in beds attached to the boat before I see her.
Her neck is pulled back with what looks to be cable, red hair falling behind her. Her eyes aren’t shimmering with light, or any reflection of the woman I know.
There’s just one thing – nothingness.
An empty void.
A shell.
I can’t make a sound, or speak. I can only stare at the woman I love, tied up like an animal with her neck broken. I think about every single thing I’ve ever said to her…about my last words. What did I even say? Fuck!
I rush over to her, kneel down against her body and pull my knife free, cutting her from these fucking restraints. I wrap my arms around Celine, holding her close to my body, and as the familiarity of peppermint doesn’t hit my senses…my reality hits me full force.
Celine is dead.
My perfect fucking Celine is dead.
“Holy fuck” Is the last thing I remember, coming from my own brother’s voice. After that, I don’t remember a fuckin’ thing.
Epilogue
Kyle
I’ve never seen Reed like this. Depressed doesn’t quite cut it. Instead, it’s like a piece of him died and to be honest, I don’t know if we’ll ever get it back. It’s been three months since Celine was murdered, and each day since then he’s become more and more driven and focused. I suppose it’s not a bad thing, but not once have I seen him smile. He hasn’t laughed, or cracked a joke.
He may have lost Celine, but what if we’ve lost Reed?
I’ve had enough, and I’ll be the dick if I have to be. I fit the part so well. Reed is playing pool with Seamus, and just as Seamus get’s a point, Reed grumbles.
“Nice to see you up and about today, brother” I comment, iciness laced through my tone. He needs to know somethings up, so he can get back to being the man we all respect. It’s time for grieving time to be over. Dwayne fled the fucking country and Reed hasn’t been able to pinpoint where he is, but there’s no time for sulking, not when we’ve got other shit to be worrying about. I made a shit Prez, but I’d like to think I’m a good brother.
“Have something to say to me, Kyle?” Reed turns around to face me, eyes as dark as midnight. I wonder when’s the last time that he got some good sleep, and then I remember…probably when he finished that bottle of Jack Daniels two days ago.
I’m not gonna be preachin’ to him. We’ve all got our own demons. But you don’t get to have demons when you’re the Prez, I fuckin’ knew it and it’s why I decided that the role wasn’t the best for me. If Reed wants to keep doin’ the shit he’s doin’, drinkin’ himself into the ground…by all means, keep doin’ it. Just don’t wear that Prez patch.
“You’re damn right I do, and you’d best listen to me, brother.” Reed raises an eyebrow at me, doin’ that shit he always did to rile me up when we were kids. I pay it no mind, though. I don’t give a fuck if he doesn’t want to hear it, he’s gonna listen to me. “Celine has been dead for three months, and while we’re all here for you. You need to move on. She’s dead, bro. You can’t do a damn thing to save her now, and all you can do is gain revenge as soon as you’re able to do so. Stop pickin’ up the damn bottle to drown your sorrows and start actin’ like a man –“ I
