by Mary Martel
“Fuck!” Chance swore. “I didn’t know you were serious. Next time let me in on it so I can lend a hand and you aren’t out here for anyone to walk up on. Shit, you’re a crazy girl.”
He wrapped his big arms around my middle and ripped me off of Belinda. I screamed like a banshee as I struggled to get out of his hold to no avail. His arms were like iron bands imprisoning me.
Belinda crawled out of the water while coughing and clutching at her throat. She flopped down onto the beach and curled her body into a tight, protective ball.
“Shh,” Chance murmured into my ear. “Quiet down and settle, girl. I have no idea what the fuck is going on, but I kicked out your guests when it started to rain. They were pissed, but I told them to take the booze with them, and they left happy to go and get drunk somewhere else. Your boy called to say they were on their way back, and he flipped his shit when I told him you followed some bitch you hated down to the beach. He told me to get my ass down here, and you’re lucky I made it to you when I did or she’d be dead.”
He didn’t get it. That was the whole point. I wanted her to be dead.
Dead just like Gin.
Who was never coming back.
Finally, I let it all out and broke down sobbing. My body went limp in his arms as I closed my eyes and cried like I hadn’t allowed myself to since getting that horrible phone call telling me she was dead. I threw my head back and screamed up at the dark, angry sky. No words came out, just a horrible sound that hurt even me to hear. It broke my heart, but I felt lighter for it.
“Fuck,” Franklin said as he appeared in front of me. “Get her back up to her house and out of this fucking rain.”
Chance’s hold on me changed, and he swept me up in his arms with my head cradled against his chest. I could see over his shoulder as he walked away from them.
So I saw when Riley picked Belinda up and carried her up the stairs right behind us. He never once looked down at her, his eyes stayed on me the whole climb up.
When we were at the top, Franklin stopped Riley and forced him to put Belinda down. She stood there cowering into herself and pleading with Riley.
Franklin looked me dead in the eyes and there was a glint there that made me tremble.
He turned back around toward Belinda, put a hand in her chest, and shoved her backwards. Her arms wheeled out uselessly at her sides as she searched for something to grab hold of that would save herself. There was nothing there but air, and even Riley didn’t step forward to attempt to save her.
Belinda fell backwards, and the rain drowned out the sound of her fearful cries as she tumbled down the stairs to her death while both Franklin and Riley watched.
I closed my eyes and rested my cheek against Chance’s chest.
Finally.
My sister might not be able to rest in peace, but I’d certainly found some peace tonight. And that was good enough for me, because dead girls couldn’t feel anything.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I’ll Be Back, Ginny
Gem
I looked back over my shoulder at the two men standing on the gravel lane. Franklin and Riley stood shoulder to shoulder with their arms crossed over their chests while they leaned against Franklin’s wagon.
They looked like complete opposites, with Franklin in his glasses and black suit with his usual white button up on beneath the jacket. There was no tie, but he didn’t need one to look sharp. I knew he wore a shoulder holster with a gun underneath his jacket. He’d taken to wearing it every day, putting it on before leaving the house. I didn’t need to ask why, his job was dangerous and even more so now with his father gone.
Riley had on jeans that were ripped at the knee, not because he’d bought them like that because it was fashionable, but due to being worn and washed so many times. His tight t-shirt, which made it obvious he was a fan of some football team I didn’t care about, clung to him like a second skin. And even though it was warm out, he had on a black beanie that covered up his blond Ken doll hair. His baby blues were hidden behind a pair of my Gucci sunglasses he’d stolen from me and fallen in love with.
They were each beautiful in their own ways, and they were both undoubtedly mine.
And they were both here to support me, because they knew just how hard this was for me.
I weaved my way around headstones until I found hers and dropped to my knees before it. I brushed some crusty leaves to the side and placed the massive bundle of white and pink roses down on the grass before my sister’s headstone.
Beside the flowers, I placed the trophy I’d bought online for my sister. First place for her home run. I left out the part about it being because she’d essentially banged a girl at a ridiculously young age, but it still had her name on it and everything.
I hoped it pissed my mother off if she ever came to visit. Petty, I knew, but I had to get my digs in when I could. Sue me.
“Well, Gin.” I stopped to clear my throat that was suddenly clogged with emotion. “I think if you could see me now you’d hate me. What I did to Belinda, which I don’t feel badly for—sick, I know—but I feel like you’d see it as unforgivable. But the thing is, my beautiful sister, I don’t think I care anymore, and that’s just the harsh truth. Whether intentional or not, you took yourself away from me and broke my heart, and maybe it’s you who needs to be forgiven and not me.”
All these words hurt to say, but they needed to be said all the same. Not for my sister, but for me, Gem. I was alive and Gin was not, and I needed to start living for me and me alone. The problem was, I didn’t know how to do that, because no matter that we’d been forced apart, I’d never really been alone before since I’d always been one half of a whole.
My sister’s death had shattered my heart into a bunch of broken pieces, and I was slowly trying to figure out how to put the fragile shards back together again. So far not much was working, but it was definitely worth trying.
“I’ve been a shitty sister, but so have you. It hurts to say it, it hurts to feel it, and it just plain ole hurts to know it, but here we are. Well, here I am left to deal with it because you’ve left me here on my own.”
The tears came like I knew they would, and this time I didn’t even try to stop them or attempt to even wipe them away. Instead, I embraced them. They weren’t a sign of my weakness, they were a sign of my strength. To love someone as much as I loved my twin didn’t make me weak, and it was not something I should ever be embarrassed of.
I traced my sister’s name on the cool stone with my fingertips as the last tear leaked out of my eyes.
“I’m not going to tell you how mad at you I am, because I have a feeling you already know. I’m not going to scream and break down, and I’m going to try and stop being so angry and hateful. Toward myself and toward you. I can’t promise I’m going to do any good with it, but I promise to try.”
I leaned forward and lightly brushed my lips across the G in her name before pulling away and finally brushing the wetness off my cheeks.
I sat there for probably an hour pouring my heart out to my sister and telling her every single thing that had happened in my life since she’d died. It felt great to get it off my chest, and I felt a million times lighter when I was done.
“I’ll be back, Ginny,” I whispered, as I kissed two of my fingers and pressed them to the stone. “Love you. Always.”
It didn’t hurt to walk away this time, and I knew it wouldn’t be long until I came back to visit.
But for now, I was okay. Every day it would get a little easier and maybe another piece of my broken heart would mend itself back together again.
I walked away from my sister’s grave and toward the two men who were my future and the reason those broken pieces of my heart might be put back together again.
The end.
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About the Author
Mary Martel is a Wall Street Journal and USA Today Times bestselling author who has written over twenty books.
She grew up in West Michigan, but has spent the last nine years living in the northern plains of North Dakota with her husband and two daughters.
When she’s not writing, she’s reading a good book, usually a reverse harem one, drinking wine, and enjoying the chaos that is life.