Page 38 of Coff

He leaves, and while I’m happy the bullet didn’t hit anything, either, it turns out it was more serious than the initial grazing I thought it was. And that bought me an overnight stay in the hospital.

Sitting in this bed has left me a lot of time to think. Too much time. I grab my phone from the table and search. Of course, Rocky is having a large funeral. In two days. As long as I’m sprung from this place tomorrow, I can make it. I know my brother said not to go, but I’ll disguise myself. I just need to see her one more time.

* * *

I stareat the phone in the passenger seat, debating if I should answer it. My brother is calling, and I know why. Today is Rocky Manzia’s funeral, and he wants to make sure I’m nowhere near it. And since I’m parked at the cemetery, it’s a call I don’t want to take.

Everyone is still at the church, but I thought I’d come here early and scope it out. I grab my phone and get out of my rental car. I told my boss, Reed, I needed a couple of days of vacation while here in California, and he okayed it. Of course, I’m supposed to be resting and relaxing on a beach, not stalking the former love of my life.

I pull the hood of my sweatshirt up over my head and make my way toward where there is a tent set up. To my surprise, there are already a handful of people here. Instead of walking into the crowd, I find a grave nearby and kneel. As soon as I see her, I’ll leave.

Two black sedans pull up near the tent. A woman steps out of one. It’s her. I’d know her anywhere. Delaney. Her head stays down as another man comes around and takes her hand.

It’s her husband. I looked him up and found some photos of him. Strangely, she doesn’t seem to have any social media accounts or photos that I could find.

They walk toward the tent with another man behind them. Duke. His hair is thinning, and he appears much older than what twelve years would do.

Look up, I urge her. She does but not in my direction. And seeing her again causes all those feelings I’d buried deep inside to rise again. I’m angry at her for choosing her father, but I feel for her and the pain she must be going through.

I squeeze my eyes shut. The meds the doctor gave me must be messing with my head. Then I open my eyes and take another look. The woman is still gorgeous, with her long dark hair flowing down her back. Even with a somber expression, she still captivates me. Now I should leave, but something compels me to stay.

Duke glances in my direction, and I turn away. Shit. If he saw me, he might recognize me. Although I’m not the clean-shaven, clean-cut boy of twenty-one that he used to know.

I turn to walk to my car. Between the sounds of the preacher’s words, the wind in the trees, or my own thoughts, I don’t hear them coming.

A bag is placed over my head, and what feels like a gun is pressed into my side. Fuck, how did he get the jump on me? No one does that.

“Don’t say a word.” It’s Duke.

He shoves me into the backseat of a car. Without my vision, I don’t know what I’m up against, so I choose not to reach for the gun strapped to my right ankle or the knife on my left.

The other backseat door opens, and someone gets in. “Let’s go,” he says, but I don’t recognize his voice.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“You ruined everything!” Duke yells.

“You killed Rocky,” the other man says.

“No, I didn’t.”

“But you know who did,” Duke says.

I sigh. “I do.”

Duke pushes the gun harder into my side. “Tell me.”

“Rocky shot me in the shoulder. He was about to shoot me again when my teammate fired.”

They don’t say anything for a minute.

“Which shoulder?” Duke asks.

“Left.”

The other man yanks down my sweatshirt, ripping it to expose the bandages. He pushes the hoodie back on my shoulder, making sure to apply pressure to the wound, which hurts like hell.

“First, we’ll take care of you,” the man says. “Then we’ll hunt down your teammate.”

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