“I don't need counseling!” I shout. “I need Merrick!”

“You never needed him,” my father bites. “If it wasn't for him, you wouldn't be here!”

“You don't know him!”

“I met him!” He raises his voice at me. “I met him when he was on my doorstep explaining how he got my daughter kidnapped!”

Perplexed I whisper, “He came to you for help?”

Nodding, my father clears his throat. “He did. Because he loved you. He loved you enough to give you back to me.” Tears fill my eyes again and in a very concerned voice, as if his own tears are close by, he asks, “Why Jovi? Why would you run off and get married and not tell me?”

“Would you have listened?”

“You didn't give me the choice.”

“Like you ever have?” The argument causes him to look off. More tears try to suffocate me, so I shut my eyes again. “I'm not sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't wanna give him up...”

(And yet I had to anyway. Please tell me this pain in my chest will stop. Please tell me it's not permanent.)

The nurse enters the room and Nadie backs away slowly to give her space to examine me. Lifelessly I lay here, anything she says sliding in one ear and out the other.

(What could she possibly have to say that matters?)

Once she exits, silence fills the room. Somehow instead of finding peace in it, it seems to act as a megaphone for my heart that's beating too hard.

(Can you literally hear someone's heart breaking? Can you actually die of a broken one?)

“Jo,” my father's voice calls to me.

Opening my eyes I roll my head over to face him.

“The doctor will be in shortly. Then the police.” I don't object. I simply continue to stare. “They're going to ask you a few questions. I need you to answer them the best you can. Don't get frustrated. Chances are you won't remember much. The Devil-”

“Was the man with the tie?”

“He was.” His face stiffens, but he tries to push through his own pain. “He kept you heavily medicated the days you were there. On the market they call it 'A Clean Sweeper.' It's a combination of certain drugs, two legal, one not, that keeps the mind blank without harming the system. So, just...whatever you can remember, tell them that.”

I open my mouth to say something when it trembles instead.

“It's gonna be hard,” he continues, swallowing his own emotions. “But just do what you can and remember I won't sleep 'til we catch this son of a bitch.”

Shutting my eyes again, I feel more tears joining the others unsure how to do anything else.

(I was kidnapped, shot at, and lost the one person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. What else is there to do other than cry?)

Jovi

(Time has come and gone. Not sure how many days. I've spent most of them in my room crying. Violently at times. Hard enough to make me vomit at others. The pain is so harsh and real that I haven't made sense of what else to do with my life. How to move on? Do I get to move on? Do I...Do I want to move on?)

Nadie turns over her shoulder and asks, “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

I glance at the house I felt like I was just in for a different funeral. It wasn't more than a couple weeks ago.

(Amazing how quickly life can be taken from you, isn't it?)

“We don't have to go,” Hayli whispers from beside me, squeezing my hand tightly. “We can say our goodbyes later. When you're ready.”

“No.” I shake my head staring blankly at the house. “Now. I wanna be here for his send off. I want...I need to do this.”

The three of us climb out of the SUV and start towards the house. Each foot in front of the other is harder than the last. The air surrounding us, that's already hot, seems to be increasing in temperature, closing in around us at such a swift pace, I abruptly end up stopping dead in my tracks.

(Panic attacks. I'm told these are a panic attack. That they'll pass. That they're a part of grieving. I don't give a shit what they are. I need them to stop. I can't fucking live like this.)

“Jo,” Hayli's voice whispers, while I use my thumb to inch my ring up and down my finger.

“Let me walk her,” a male voice causes me to lift my head. My eyes meet with one of Triple D's. “Can I walk you?”

(I don't know which one he is. They really do look just the fuck alike.)

I nod, but Hayli looks skeptical. She hesitates, yet eventually hurries ahead to walk with Nadie. The two of us don't move until they're much closer to the house. He extends his arm for support.

Quietly I confess my confusion, “You're....which one?”

He cocks a soft smile. “Destin.”

“The one who's big into computer stuff?”

“That's me,” he sweetly acknowledges. “I was also the one who was closest to Merrick besides Ben.”

Hearing their names together again creates new solace at the same time a hint of peace.

(I tore them apart and put them back together...)

“Growing up Drew was so busy trying to be like Madden and Daniel was so busy trying to stand out that, I guess we just clicked in our own ways. Merrick liked to tag-”

“Paint,” I correct him quickly.

His face twitches a smile. “Paint. And I liked to draw for a while...”

“You don't anymore?”

With a guilty expression he shakes his head.

“Why not?”

“Racing bikes...the shop...working for...it all got in the way. I wasn't like Merrick. I wasn't determined to keep that piece of me. I let it fade. Made more room to learn the trade. Girls. Parties.”

Bluntly I remark, “Sounds empty.”

Destin's eyes cut to me. “You don't realize just how much until your family starts dying around you. It acts as the biggest wake-up call that maybe the life you were living wasn't worth shit.”

Hearing his confession moves my body into his. Sweetly he drapes an arm around my shoulder. Tears begin to gather quickly. Before they can choke my voice I cry out, “I'm sorry. This is all my fault.”

“It's not.” He stops us before we enter the house. Looking down at me he states. “I need you to get that before we walk back there. It's not your fault. It's not Madden's fault. It's no one's fault. We all like to believe if we would've done something different he'd still be alive. He did that with Ben. Fact is, if it wasn't trying to save you, it would've been something else. Probably something less honorable. Truth is Jovi, I'm glad he died trying to make his life better and fix his mistakes, rather than dying trying to fill his pockets with cash he didn't need. Remember that as guilt tries to destroy you, Jovi. He died for the person he loved and nothing else.”

(Is he right? Is that how I should be looking at this?)

The two of us walk through the house and out the back, taking the same path Merrick and I took for Ben. Walking around to where everyone is gathered feels surreal. The timing for this feels wrong. I shouldn't be here yet.

(I shouldn't be here until I'm seventy with grand children at my feet and children helping me stay upright. Not now. Not days before I turn twenty two.)

Destin brings us to the spot between the rest of Triple D and Hayli, who's curled up with Nadie. Looking around it seems like the expressions on their face are even more broken than when we buried Ben. My eyes can't stop from falling on Madden who is leaned on a shovel with his head down. In front of him is a headstone with Merrick's name on it. On a long deep breath, I try to make it through the tears that have arrived again. Destin pulls me in tighter. There's a lingering silence for a moment, but it seems to be more than enough to get everyone's emotions boiling.

Finally Drew, lifts the red can, and manages to say, “Paint the sky baby brother,” before his own emotions cut him off completely. He gives it a double tap and passes it to Daniel, eyes never leaving the hole waiting for his remains.

“If you tag a rainbow make sure God is looking the other way,” Daniel advises through a sniffle. “He probably isn't gonna see it as art like you always did.”