Page 35 of Lady Sings the Blues

How could I let myself fall for his lies? I knew better. This town hates me and I walked right into it. Right into the belly of the beast.

Five looks over my shoulder later, I find myself ducking behind a large black walnut tree in the park across from the courthouse at the rumble of bike engines taking up the entire street, riding in the direction of Mark, I mean Beau’s house. Brimstone Lords, his club’s patches visible on all their cuts.

The sight of them heading tohimhas me so upset I almost blow my cover to yell at them. He wanted to embarrass me. Would I like it? No. But why did he have to break my heart? It’s five years ago all over again. I hardly had any heart left, and he destroyed it.

My eyes. My throat. My lungs start to burn as I know I’m about to lose it. I know I’m about to lose it, and I know I don’t want to which means once the street clears, I hump it away from the park, out of the center of town keeping a low profile the three miles it takes until I find myself standing in the parking lot behind the funeral home.

What do I have to lose? Nothing. Literally nothing left to lose for me in this town anymore. So with that thought weighing heavy and nobody around to stop me, I tug on the handle of the back metal door. It actually opens for me to walk inside. The spring on the door strains and snaps back closing me in the foyer at the mouth of a dimly lit hallway.

Situated running perpendicular not parallel to the back door, the first room I come to has a flat stainless steel table and next to it sits an open cosmetics case. They’ll most likely bring my dad in here before his showing in the morning. Lord knows I can’t stay here.

The next door to open smells strongly of bleach and has shelves with open bottles of various cleaners, an industrial mop bucket with a couple of mops inside it, leaning against one shelf. Since the place is closed now, I figure they’ve already cleaned for the night and drop to the floor resting my back on the wall next to the shelf, pulling my earbuds and phone from my purse.

Listening to Vivaldi, trying to calm my nerves, I close my eyes and hope for sleep to find me. I’m tired. My body. My mind and my soul are all more tired than I think I’ve ever been in my life.

Vivaldi surprisingly does calm me enough to fall asleep despite laying on the cold, hard concrete or knowing I’m surrounded by dead bodies.

Though I don’t know how long I’d been out for, I find consciousness again at the sound of a woman crying. Each eye pops open independently, foggy and full of crust. I’ve woken with a kink in my back, in my neck and a severe headache.

No one sees me peek out of the closet or move down the hallway to where the crying grows loudest right outside one of the salons. When I poke my head inside, it’s Hadley I see crying over my father’s body. Her tears, her pain—it’s all real.

Seriously, I never thought I’d ever do this but I go to her, taking her in my arms and just hold on while she grieves the loss of her love.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

“He’s my dad.” I shrug. “I never hated you, Hadley. I know how much you love him. We never had to be enemies, even when he chose his love for you over me. We never had to be enemies.”

She stares as if I’d grown two more heads.

“I’m not staying for the funeral,” I tell her. “You don’t need to deal with the town drama today. So if you don’t mind, I’ll talk to my dad and be on my way.”

“I’ll leave you then.” She moves to the doorway of the salon.

“Thank you. And Hadley…” She looks at me like it’s the first time she’s seeing me. “Thank you, you know, for taking care of him.”

She blinks, walking then out the door without saying anything in response, leaving me to stand with my dead father.

“Hey dad,” I say to him, reaching out my hand, but stop short dropping it to my side because I can’t get myself to touch him. He looks like he’s sleeping. Clean shaven. Just like the last time I’d seen him five years ago. Though slightly older. We look alike. The same sandy blond hair as my natural color. The same eyes I can’t see because his lids are sealed.God, damn it. How did we get here?

I have to grip the side of the coffin to stabilize myself, and take in a few shuddering breaths to clear my head. I have things to say, and he’s going to hear me out. Even if he can’t actually hear. “I don’t understand why it had to be her or me. You knew why I couldn’t come back here. I just don’t understand why you couldn’t come to me, not once in five years. I lost you the same day I lost Logan and Beau. But I always thought that as long as you were healthy, I wouldn’t be alone in the world.

“Never thought I’d lose you in such a freak accident. Made a fool of myself with the town again. Beau this time. So yeah, I really am alone in the world.” Finally tears fall freely for my father, but crying gets you nowhere. “Oh, and now I hate chocolate, too.”

Scrubbing my hands down my face, I collect myself. “Love you anyway, dad. Always will.” Even though it creeps me out, I complete the reach inside the casket patting his arm before going, wheeling my bag behind me. Because I know if I didn’t I’d regret it for the rest of my life.

When I slip outside the backdoor, Hadley leans against the side of the building smoking, sucking back long nervous drags until she sees me and drops the cigarette, snuffing it out with her toe.

“If you ever need anything, call me, okay Hadley? And I mean it.”

She smiles, but it’s weak, and nods. “How will you get home? Heard about your car.”

“I’ll walk until I reach a Greyhound.”

“It’s too far.”

“I’ll be fine. You take care now.”

But before I can get two steps, Mr. Delavigne stops me. “That was very sweet of you. Jimmy, my custodian, will drive you to the bus station.”

It was very nice not to mention super helpful of Mr. Delavigne to have Jimmy drive me to the bus station since the closest stop was the next county over. We saw some of the Brimstone Lords out riding, and I couldn’t help wonder if Beau had them out looking for me since the best part of his revenge plot had been spoiled. They didn’t see me because who would think to look for me in a funeral home van?

Since I’m on my way home now via bus, I’ll have to figure out another car. Perfect. Another thing to worry about. But ain’t that just my luck? I’d only finished paying that one off two months ago. I guess dropping another twenty grand on a new set of wheels is a small price to pay for not having to see Beau Hollister or his club ever again.

And I hate that I can’t stop thinking about him. Attacked because of him. My heart broken because of him. I’m the laughing stock of Thornbriar and had to avoid my own father’s funeral because of him. Yet the way he held me. Like no time had passed. Like he was stillmyBeau.

Get it out of your head, Elise. He was using you.

Logically I know he was. But when does the heart ever concern itself with logic?

---