Page 63 of Sugar Coated Lies
Everleigh stares at the lifeless form as if trying to see through the sheet. Apart from the noise around us, the room—space—is quiet. Oddly peaceful.
Everleigh’s cold fingers brush mine and one latches onto my pinky, her gaze still on Miles. “I want to see him.” It’s a whisper.
I swallow deep in my throat but step to the bed and try to catch her gaze. “It’s okay to remember him how he was.”
That’s what my mom said to me at my uncle’s funeral. Actually, she said, “It’s better to remember how he was instead of seeing the condition he’s in now.”
Her focus remains steadfast on his covered face. “I need to see.”
I fear doing so will make things worse for her, but I obey. Carefully, I pull back the sheet and fold it below his neck before stepping away.
Heartache contorts Everleigh’s features the moment she sees his face, but she remains silent with her tears. She inches forward and looms over his lifeless form, which looks oddly at peace, too.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” she murmurs and quietly breaks down.
I feel gutted seeing her suffer like this, helpless to take her pain away or make this easier for her. I don’t even know I’m crying, too, until something wet slips down my cheek.
I wipe away the tears and fight the urge to join Everleigh in her onslaught of grief when she bends to kiss his cheek the way she does whenever she says goodbye to him.
“I love you,” she murmurs. “Say hi to the family for me.”
Fuck. Her tender goodbye hits me like a side sweep of the legs, and my body quivers. How is she standing?
She straightens, wipes her cheeks, and finally lifts her gaze to mine. The sadness in those cobalt eyes hit me like a tank. “Will you take me home?”
I’ll take her anywhere, do anything. All she needs to do is ask.
Carol joins us in the car back to Honeycomb. Neither she nor Everleigh speaks on the drive to her house. We park outside her small home.
“I’m so sorry.” She squeezes Everleigh’s shoulder. “If you need anything, I’m here.”
“Thank you,” Everleigh says, her first words since we left her grandpa’s side. “And thank you for always being there for us.”
“Of course.” Carol gets out of the car and walks to her husband, who waits by the front door.
I turn the car around and head toward the trailer park. When we’re almost at the entrance, Everleigh says. “I don’t want to go home. I can’t. Can you take me somewhere else?”
“Yes.” I pass the trailer park and keep driving, my brain racing. I don’t want to take her to my parents’ house. She needs privacy, not cleaners and staff. The hotels around here aren’t nice enough for her after all she’s been through, and I want to bathe her in luxury.
It comes to me.
“Up for a drive?”
She gives a long slow blink, her gaze unfocused, and yawns. “Sure.”
Decided, I drive to the one place I know where we’ll be alone. A place that will help distract her and give her a space to heal.
Chapter17
Everleigh
The sun setsas we drive to wherever. I don’t care where. I doze off, waking a few times to rain pattering the windows. The soothing sound and motion of the car rocks me back to sleep.
Lights shine behind my closed eyelids. I don’t want to open them and see where we are. I don’t care.
I doze off again and am roused from my sleep by soft fingers across my cheek. “Everleigh, baby, we’re here.”
I force my eyes open. We’re in a parking garage. “Where is here?” The words scrape my dry throat and a dull ache throbs behind my eyes.
