Page 88 of Bartered Innocence

“Rian,” my wife whispers behind me, her own grief cracking in her voice.

Aodhan’s hand curls over my shoulder in support and I glance at him. “Call the doc.”

* * *

My father’s funeral is set for the following week, allowing everyone the time needed to travel if they want to. Aodhan and my father already made preparations during the many months that Aodhan stayed home, and I’ve never felt more appreciation for my brother. It didn’t surprise me that my father chose to be buried in the same place as my mother.

The car is unusually quiet, odd for when Cillian is driving since the menace can never stop causing trouble. But Isabelle holds my hand as we drive through Jersey City to the cemetery, and a long parade of cars follows behind us.

“When we get there, I need you to wait in the car for a bit until we know it’s secure,” I tell Isabelle.

She frowns. “I can’t go with you?”

I shake my head. “Since it’s a public affair, we’re all like sitting ducks, and I want to ensure we’re safe before having you at my side.”

“So you’re the bait? I don’t want you to get hurt either.”

My thumb rubs against her skin. “If there is anyone here that poses a threat, they're less likely to attack me outright…showing my face first is a sign of strength.”

“Whoever attacks at a funeral is deplorable. Where’s the human decency?”

Cillian snorts from the front seat at Isabelle’s exclamation and a smile twists on my lips. I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss it right on her tattoo. She shivers and I glance at her, images of last night flashing through my mind. Her back arched as I pounded into her from behind, my hands sliding to rub at her belly, knowing our heir is growing in there. Isabelle tsks, as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“Rein it in, you pervert.”

A low chuckle rolls out of my throat. “I can’t help it. I love that you’re carrying my child, just thinking about it makes me hard.” I find comfort in her body, a distraction from the grief that’s threatening to take over.

She rolls her eyes. “Wait until I’m large and barely able to move. We’ll see how you feel then.”

“I bet the sight will be even more enticing.”

The humor drops off as we park behind the hearse and my heart jerks at the sight, knowing my father is lying inside. He chose a polished black casket with silver lining and handles. I swallow down the emotions and let go of Isabelle.

“Cormac will come get you, okay?”

She nods before grabbing my face and then pecking my lips. Her eyes shift between mine. “I’ll be waiting, husband.”

My mouth quirks. “See you soon, wife.”

Aodhan and Cillian follow me out of the car and I stand straighter, walking to the hearse where I speak to the priest for a few moments as we work out the logistics. By the time we discuss the path and guide the crowd where we want, the rest of the brotherhood has shown up. I glance over my shoulder, catching Isabelle standing beside Cormac patiently. She nods and I blow out a breath.

The ache clawing inside me as I grab the cool metal on the side of the casket grows as I watch my brothers surround all sides and we lift as one. I blink away tears as we start carrying my father to his final resting place. The eerie silence besides the crunch of the dirt with our steps as we walk is ringing in my ears.

Years of missions and dangerous situations that they’ve saved me, but I’ve never felt closer to the men walking beside me as I do right now. As soon as we place the casket on the lift, we step back and stand shoulder to shoulder, staring down at the man who raised us.

“Go n-éirí leat,”Cillian says hoarsely, and low laughter breaks out.

I shake my head, thankful for him as we break apart. I feel her presence beside me. I breathe a little easier with her there.

She’s like a queen, standing strongly at my side. Her hand is wrapped tight around my elbow as we listen to the priest say his blessings over the casket. Aodhan, Cillian, and Cormac stand at my back. The only one missing is Aisling, but I can feel her presence so I know she’s near.

If Aoife hadn’t just given birth last night, I know that Declan would be here too. There’s a small crowd gathered on the other side of the open plot, most of the families paying their respects but keeping their distance. Isabelle’s curious gaze roams over them, probably trying to see if she recognizes any of the men that randomly stop by our home sometimes.

It’s a gloomy day, the sun barely peeking out from behind the clouds as it looms over us. It would have been poetic if it was raining, and my father would have been laughing from beyond at all of us miserably standing huddled under umbrellas. The thought has a small smile pulling at the corner of my lips.

As the priest moves onto the rest of the traditions, I barely pay attention. My stare doesn’t stray from his casket, and I think about how much heavier this is than my mother’s funeral. Granted, I was only eighteen and full of anger more than anything else, but at least my father had been at my side that day. Somebody who understood the depth of my grief.

Movement to my left catches my eye and I watch curiously as Sebastian James sidles up to my side. I hadn’t expected to see him, and I’ll have to ask how he got through my men without a word back to me.

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