by Rebecca Shea
The car rolls to a stop at a red light as Sam ends his call.
Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “I’d like to see where Alex will be buried.”
Sam’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
My voice is soft but strong. “I need to do this. You won’t let me go to the service, but I need to know where he’s going to be. I need this closure.” Tears suddenly flood my eyes, and my lips begin quivering so badly I can no longer speak.
Sam watches me swat tears away and offers a tight smile. “Okay,” he says as we accelerate.
We make a U-turn and, within a few minutes, we’re pulling into the cemetery. The place is tucked away behind a sprawling neighborhood and hidden behind large trees. We pull in slowly, Sam carefully navigating the winding path. It’s an exquisite place—beautiful and peaceful. The grounds are immaculate and perfectly cared for. Large trees line the perimeter and are sprinkled throughout to provide a lush and shaded resting place. If I’d had a say in where Alex was laid to rest, I would’ve picked this place too.
Sam pulls off the paved path and kills the engine.
“Point me in the direction,” I tell him, and he nods and purses his lips.
“See that large oak tree? Just to the right, you’ll see the headstone for Emma Estrada. Alex will be laid to rest with her.” Sam’s voice is tight, and he turns his head to look away from his mother’s headstone.
I feel myself beginning to unravel; Alex’s final resting place is just out of my sight. I need to see it. I need to know where he’ll be. “I’ll be just a few minutes,” I say weakly as my shaky hand pulls on the door release.
The late afternoon sun is hot, but a light breeze whips my hair around my shoulders as I tread carefully across the plots, studying each headstone I pass. My heart races in my chest the closer I get to the old oak tree. Then, in front of me is “Emma Estrada” engraved in a large granite stone, with her date of birth and date of death. “Loving wife, mother, and friend” is scrawled beneath it. My mouth suddenly dries, and I can’t seem to swallow down the giant lump in my throat.
The opposite side of the stone is blank, and my stomach flips when I envision what will be written there. Under my feet lies the spot Alex will be laid to rest. I struggle to breathe as I look at the trimmed grass beneath my feet.
Without warning, I’m engulfed in a wave of heavy grief, and I fall to my knees, tugging at the soft grass as tears flood my eyes again. “No,” I cry to myself, to Alex, to anyone that can hear me. “You promised you wouldn’t leave me,” I stutter through ragged breaths. “You promised!” I feel anger mixing with my sadness like a poison, and I pound the ground with my fists. How dare he! He promised!
My cries are loud, and my vision is blurred when firm hands suddenly pull me up. “Em,” Sam says sympathetically. “I didn’t think this was a good idea. Not yet, anyway. It’s too soon.” He holds up my limp body when all I want to do is fall to the soft grass below and cry for everything I’ve lost and everything I’m missing.
“Let me go.” I struggle to free myself. It takes a moment, but he stumbles when I break free of him. Then I kneel at the headstone and begin praying through my tears. I pray for Alex, I pray for me, I pray for Sam, but mostly, I pray for my baby. I whisper prayers as quickly as they come to me. Sam stands behind me as I sob, pray, yell, and pray some more. I press my hands to the headstone, where Alex’s name will go, and warmth radiates from the marbled stone. Warm, just like his touch.
“Em,” Sam says gently as he kneels next to me.
“Why, Sam? Why did he have to die? Why Alex?”
His eyes are downcast. “I don’t know.” He rubs his forehead and looks at me. “But I think we should go.” He stands up quickly and holds out his hand for me.
Reluctantly, I reach out and he helps me up, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. We walk to the car, the warm breeze blowing on my face, drying my tear-stained cheeks.
Sam opens the car door for me, but before I can sit down, he pulls me into an embrace. His firm arms wrap around me; I’m enveloped in him. He’s not Alex, but I need his comfort right now. Breathing in the scent of him, I instantly begin to calm down. So much like Alex, yet so different.
Alex was my love—dark and dangerous.
But Sam is now my rock—my safe place.
And I need him. Probably more than I want to admit. “Thank you,” I say on a ragged breath as I pull away, and I can’t help but notice something in his eyes as he glances at the headstone one last time.
I WAKE UP to the smell of something cooking. I passed out on the couch when we got home. I’m so tired lately. Although I’m not sure grief and pregnancy were ever meant to be experienced together.
Stretching, I kick the blanket off of me and stumble into the kitchen to find Sam on his phone and stirring a pot of pasta. At the sight of me, a huge smile spreads across his face. He sets the spoon on the counter and pulls me to him, his arm snug around my waist. I struggle with Sam’s affection. On one hand, I love it, finding comfort in his closeness. On the other, it makes me uncomfortable, yet I’m a glutton for physical closeness and can’t turn him away. Shifting the phone to his other ear, he rests his chin on the top of my head.
Surprisingly, the food smells amazing. I had no idea Sam could cook. My stomach growls when I spot the garlic bread in the oven and the pasta sauce bubbling in a pan on the stove.
“I have no updates today,” he says into the phone.
Feeling funny that he’s still holding me, I wriggle out of his grasp and pick up the spoon, stirring the spaghetti noodles for him. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head before he steps away and finishes his call.
“Good timing,” he says as he sets his Blackberry on the counter. “I didn’t want to wake you up, but it’s getting late and we need to eat.” He leans against the granite counter, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up. He ditched his tie in the car earlier and the top two buttons of his shirt are now open. It’s interesting how his complexion is a bit fairer than Alex’s, but he’s perfectly handsome in his own way. How he’s not taken yet surprises me.
“It smells really good.” I offer him a smile.
“Well, I hope you’re hungry, because there’s enough to feed an army.” He chuckles and reaches into the fridge for a beer, popping the cap off and pressing the bottle to his lips for a long pull. My stomach growls again, causing me to blush.
Sam sets his beer on the counter. “I’ll take that as a good sign.” He smirks and opens the oven, setting the garlic bread on the counter. Just then, the doorbell rings, and he looks at me quickly before sauntering over to the front door. I recognize the voice instantly when Sam opens the door, and I momentarily freeze before turning to look at him.
“Jax,” I say and run over to him, leaping into his arms.
“How you doin’, sunshine?” He picks me up off of my feet and twirls me around.
“Wait, how did you know Sam lived here?” I look between Jax and Sam. Sam just smiles and picks up his beer.
“Had a visitor at the coffee shop.” He winks at me. “He thought maybe you could use some company.”
“Your visitor is very smart,” I joke in return.
“You’re right on time, Jax. Let me drain the pasta and we’ll eat. Have a seat.” Sam gestures to the kitchen table that I hadn’t noticed was set with three place settings. I need to learn to be more observant, I tell myself, then sit down between Jax and Sam.
Sam sets a large ceramic bowl of spaghetti in the center of the table and the pot of sauce next to it. In another bowl, he sets the garlic bread, and there was already a tossed salad on the table. Everything looks and smells amazing.
“So, sunshine,” Jax says as he plates some pasta. “We have a lot to catch up on.” He smiles at me. “Let’s do that after dinner, but I wanted to tell you how much I miss you. Megs, too. She’s going crazy without you.”
And oh how I’ve missed them too
, but it makes my heart swell to hear I’m missed. I’d grown to love Megan and Jax in the short time I’d worked at Café Au Lait. “I miss you both too. I’m going crazy here,” I tell him honestly, shooting Sam a look out the corner of my eye. “I’m used to always working, so spending the days sitting here—is hard,” I admit.
“I’m sure it’s for the best,” Jax says quietly as he serves himself a bowl of tossed salad.
“It is,” Sam interrupts, offering me a stern look.
We spend the next hour eating dinner, laughing, and catching up. Jax’s band landed a gig at a bar in Tempe near the University, and he’s over-the-moon excited. I smile as I listen to him talk about the plans he has with his band. I even tease him about his ponytail and the beard he’s grown. Even under all that hair, though, I can see his perfect square jaw. His smile is contagious, and my heart calms a bit in his presence. This is the most “normal” I’ve felt in days.
“Why don’t you two go out to the patio and catch up while I clean up in here,” Sam says, standing up.
“Sounds great.” Jax grabs his glass of red wine and heads for the French patio doors.
I shoot Sam a thankful look and grab my glass of ice water as I head out behind Jax. I flip on the little twinkle lights before taking a seat on the plush patio chair.
“So what’s going on, sunshine?” Jax asks, relaxing his arm along the back of the outdoor couch.
“I don’t even know where to start,” I say with a sigh. “So much to tell you.” I take a sip of my water and sift through what I’m allowed to tell him, what I can tell him while also still keeping him safe.
“Then start from the beginning. I’ve got all night.” His smile is comforting, and I know I can trust him.
“So… there are some things I’m going to tell you that you can’t share with anyone, okay?” I glance over my shoulder and through the glass French doors where Sam is still cleaning up.
“I’d never tell a soul,” Jax promises, then takes a sip of wine and sets the glass on the wood side table.
“So remember my roommate, Alex?” I ask hesitantly. It’s still hard to even mention Alex’s name and internalize that he’s gone forever.
“Roommate?” he says, raising his eyebrows at me. “You mean ‘boyfriend’?”
I roll my eyes at him and smile. “Fine. Boyfriend.”
“Mr. Tall, Dark, and, Dangerous?” He chuckles.
“What do you know?” I ask, feeling guarded.
“Only what I’ve heard on the news. Alejandro Estrada, notorious son of Antonio Estrada, the Estrada drug cartel’s leader, was shot and killed in a shootout in his upscale, Central Phoenix condominium complex.” He sounds like he’s the news reporter.
I shiver when he says Alex’s name and “killed.”
His eyes turn sad. “I’m sorry, Em. I didn’t mean to sound insensitive. I was just repeating what I had heard… and that’s it. They’ve been quiet ever since. No news reports, newspaper articles, nothing.”
“It’s because Antonio Estrada got away. They’re looking for him.” I speak quietly, as if someone other than Jax could potentially hear me.
“Shit,” Jax hisses. “So you knew all about the business? If you were dating him, why the hell were you working at Meg’s coffee shop? I’m sure he could afford to take care of his girlfriend.”
“It wasn’t like that. I didn’t want his money and I didn’t know until a couple of weeks before everything happened about his business. Alex finally confided in me. I didn’t know what to think. I tried to convince him to just leave, that we could go somewhere, anywhere… and start a new life. But he said you couldn’t walk away from a business like that.”
“You can’t,” Jax says abruptly.
“Everything happened so fast, Jax. He told me about the business, then he disappeared to Mexico for a week, and then he came back.” I glance over my shoulder, into the house again, to see Sam pacing the living room and talking on the phone. “He lied to me.”
“About?”
“A lot. He and Sam are brothers.”
“Holy shit,” Jax drawls.
“Yeah,” I whisper, still remembering how I felt when I found out. “I found out the day of the shooting.”
“How did you find out?”
“I found a picture on Sam’s dresser. Alex had the identical picture in his condo.”
“Hold up a minute. How did you find a picture on Sam’s dresser?” Jax leans forward, curious.
I sigh deeply. “I found some pictures on Alex’s computer. Pictures of me, my mother, my father….”
“What?” he asks, confused.
“I know.” My hands fidget in my lap. It’s unnerving telling him all of this, but it feels freeing at the same time. “I confronted Alex, and he claims they came from his father’s computer in Mexico. I didn’t believe him. I panicked and ran. Alex panicked about me being safe, so he called Sam to find me. I stayed at Sam’s house that night.”
“Jesus Christ, sunshine. Please tell me nothing—”
“No!” I say loudly. “And I know. It’s not like that though, Jax. I’ve always felt safe with Sam. He’s the law. I loved Alex, but he was the dangerous one. I fled to what was safe. They are polar opposites, but both made me feel—”
He nods in understanding. “Continue.”
“Anyway, Sam left the next morning for a meeting, which I later found out was with Alex. Alex was in the process of making a deal to turn in everything on the business over to the ATF, DEA, and FBI for immunity.”
“This is like a goddamn movie.” He shakes his head and picks up his glass of wine. “Keep going.”
“After Sam left, I saw the picture. I freaked out, Jax. I lost my shit. They’d both been lying to me. I took the picture and went to Alex’s to confront him.” I take a deep breath and a sip of water. “Anyway, when I got there, Sam was there. They told me everything. There’s so much more, Jax… Things about my dad, my mom… I just…” I pause, needing a moment. It’s still a lot to process, let alone talk about.
“You need something stronger than that water, sunshine. Here.” He holds his glass of wine out to me. “This is the craziest shit I’ve ever heard.”
I shake my head and decline the drink. “I can’t.”
Jax’s eyes widen suddenly. It takes a moment, and then realization sets in. “No.”
I nod, feeling the weight of my reality bearing down on me again. “Yes.”
“Unbelievable,” he whispers, shocked.
“I know.” I give a humorless laugh. “How much more fucked up can my life get?” My bottom lip begins to quiver.
He stands up quickly and sets his wine glass down. “Stand up.”
I set my glass of water on the table and stand facing him.
“Come here.” He pulls me into an enormous hug, and I find tremendous comfort in the embrace of my friend. “If you need anything, you know who to call, right?”
“I don’t have a phone anymore,” I sadly admit, “and I’m under strict instructions that I can’t leave here, or even go back to work until Antonio is found. Apparently, because Alex told me about the business, I’m at risk now.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He sighs. “You’ll always have a job at Café Au Lait. Don’t worry about that. You do what Sam asks you to do.”
I nod against Jax’s chest. “I’m scared,” I whisper, and he rubs his hands along my back.
“I know you are.”
“Did you two get a chance to catch up?” Sam’s voice is loud, almost angry.
“We did,” I say, pulling away from Jax.
“Good.” He looks pointedly at Jax. “Remember what I told you. No one knows Emilia is here. You never visited me at my house. You have no recollection of tonight.”
“Understood.” Jax looks at me cautiously. “Sam, I really appreciate you letting me come by.”
“Emilia needed a friend,” he says, his tone softening. “I imagine it’s not easy being confined to the house—”
; “Or losing the person she loves,” Jax interrupts him. His tone is condescending and he’s putting Sam in his place—reminding him it’s Alex that I love.
Sam’s mouth snaps shut, and he looks away. The tension in the air is palpable and I shift nervously from one foot to the next. “Or that,” he finally says, bringing his attention back to us.
“I’m going to get going. Thank you for the wonderful dinner and inviting me into your home,” Jax addresses Sam. He reaches out to shake his hand, but Sam won’t take it. He stands with his hands on his hips and blows a heavy breath of air through his nose.
Jax leans in and hugs me again, whispering in my ear. “Call me at the Café Au Lait if you need anything. Anything.”
I nod and squeeze him back, then Sam walks him to the front door, while I stay on the patio, sitting back down in the chair and enjoying the mild summer evening. The evenings in Phoenix are finally becoming more bearable as late summer turns to fall.
“Did you have a nice visit?” Sam asks, appearing with a bottle of water.
“I did until you made it uncomfortable,” I say, refusing to look at him as I focus on the stars in the dark sky.
“I don’t like him touching you like that.”
I snap my head to look at him, incredulous. “Like what? Hugging me? Because I hug my friends, Sam. I’ve hugged you, haven’t I?”
Sam’s jaw ticks in response. He doesn’t respond but takes a seat across from me. “Sorry,” he says on a deep exhale.
“Please don’t try to run off Jax. I only have two people now. Two. You and Jax.” My voice cracks. I hate that it takes so little for me to become emotional these days. I’ll have to learn to control that eventually. “Do you have any idea how lonely that is? Add in the fact that I’m confined to your house, I’m ready to lose it.”
“I know, Em. I know,” he sighs