Defying Gravity: Shattered Cove Series Book 3

by A. M. Kusi

  “You need a shower,” Bently said, helping Belle inside her house. They were supposed to be at his tonight, but that was a crime scene now. She’d never be able to return there without the reminder of what happened. He wouldn’t either.

  Belle didn’t respond. She hadn’t said a word since before they left the hospital. She was like the walking dead.

  His heart lurched. He picked her up, needing to have her in his arms. He wanted to take on all her pain for her. He’d carry her until she could find her footing again. And then, when she was ready, he’d walk away so she’d never have to be hurt by him again.

  Taking one step at a time, he climbed her staircase. After switching the shower on with one hand, he set her down. He stripped off her clothes, leaving his own blood-stained uniform in a pile on the floor. Bently helped her into the shower. The hot water rained down on them. He pulled her against his chest, not knowing what else he could do except hold her while she broke apart.

  The water washed away the blood from his skin, but it could never take the regret. Belle trembled, staring off vacantly as he washed her body with the one bottle of soap they’d left next to the basin to use as they went back and forth. Thankfully Mia had been kind enough to rush to his house and pack Belle some things in a suitcase that was now sitting in her bedroom. A bottle of soap rested against the tile. He squirted some into his hands and lathered it over her body, taking care to wash her gently.

  “I’ve got you.” Bently tried to soothe her.

  His own eyes burned. His stomach was hard and his chest felt as though he’d had open-heart surgery without pain medication. It tore him up to see Belle this way, nothing he could do could fix it. He obsessed over all he could have done to prevent it.

  He’d raced home, praying to a god he didn’t believe in that TJ’s truck wouldn’t be there when he arrived. Fate was never that kind. He’d charged inside. Vargas had tried holding him back as he barked orders. Parsons had been standing next to the body. TJ’s arms had been handcuffed even though he no longer resided on this earth. Even in death, Parsons deemed him a threat. Bently’s stomach had roiled. The next thing he’d known, Parsons was underneath him and his fists were heavy, pounding into the man’s face until the satisfying crunch of bone rattled through his arm. Vargas and Owens had to pull him off and handcuff him until he’d calmed down enough to ride in the ambulance.

  He’d probably lose his job, but what did that matter when TJ had lost his life while heating up a bowl of mac and cheese, listening to music? TJ had been a hero. And no matter how Bently tried to look at it, his gut told him that Parsons would not have barged in and shot an unarmed boy in the back if he’d been White.

  When the water ran cold, he shut it off. He grabbed a towel that Mia had most likely left for them. He bundled Belle up and carried her to the bed.

  The suitcase sat on the floor with a few bottles of water, a box of tea, a few cans of soup, and a bottle of tequila. A pang stabbed in his chest. Belle had a lot of people who cared about her, whether she knew it or not.

  My family is her family.

  Bently pulled back the covers and laid her down gently before sliding in next to her. Silent tears leaked from her eyes as she stared off into space. She was lost in grief and devastation. Come back to me, Angel.

  He wrapped his arms around her and held on tight as if he could will her back to life. If her heart was too damaged to beat, he’d do it for the both of them. He’d take care of her. He’d be here for her no matter the cost. He laid his hand across her chest, counting her heartbeats until he fell asleep.

  ***

  Bently jolted awake. His heart raced and sweat trickled down his brow. The room felt empty. A sick feeling twisted in his chest. Where is Belle? He shot out of bed, not bothering to grab his clothes as he left the room in search of her.

  He opened the door to TJ’s room and breathed a sigh of relief. She was curled up on his mattress. An old quilt lay over her. He backed out of the room and went for a pair of sweatpants that Mia had packed before going down to the kitchen.

  He carried the cup of chamomile tea upstairs once it was ready. The sunlight was only starting to peek over the horizon. He walked into TJ’s room and swallowed hard. It still didn’t feel real that TJ would never enter through those doors again. He’d never smile again, or laugh.

  Bently blinked away the warring emotions that rose up as he rounded the bed. Belle’s eyes were open and unfocused. He knelt by the side of the mattress, next to her face.

  “I brought you some tea.” He gently caressed her forehead, tucking the mess of curls aside.

  “I don’t want anything. What’s the point? He’s gone.” Fresh tears streamed from her swollen red eyes.

  “You have to take care of yourself. Even though it hurts.” His voice softened and his heart broke more.

  “I have no one left.” Her voice was so quiet he barely heard her.

  “You have me. You’re my family now.” Didn’t she understand just how much he loved her? How much she meant to him?

  A spark lit her dark eyes. Anger blazed in Belle’s pained gaze as she sat up. “You’re one of them!”

  Her words were a shot to the chest. She blamed him. Because I could have prevented this somehow. Maybe. “I’m sorry—”

  “Sorry doesn’t bring my brother back.” Her voice was cold and dead like she must have felt inside.

  This time, his soul cracked and splintered with it. Blinding pain shot through him, breaking him apart.

  “Leave me alone. I can’t even look at you.”

  “Angel.” It was a prayer. A plea with the universe.

  “Go, Bently. GO!” she screamed.

  Bently stood, his hands itching to reach out and touch her one more time. Torment eviscerated his insides. He’d lost her for good. He’d been clinging on to a false hope and empty faith. All good things must come to an end. He should have known better than to believe he could have more. After all, he was Paul Evans’s son. The one who’d failed to protect those he’d loved. And he’d done it again.

  He staggered back before he turned and ran out of the room, down the stairs, and out into the ice-cold twilight. It didn’t matter that he was still shirtless in the January morning because he was already frozen and numb inside. The tether between Belle and him cinched and tightened the farther he walked away from her. He struggled to gasp in a breath. One more step and it would snap. He’d be separated from her for good.

  He took one last glance towards her duplex, the finality of it all weighing down heavily on his shoulders. He lifted one leaden foot and walked away like she’d told him to do. He clutched his chest. Searing pain slammed through him. He staggered backwards as he fell to the snow. Desolation poured over him as his heart pounded against his rib cage. The red predawn sky glowed above.

  Even the heavens were bleeding.

  Chapter 46

  Belle

  What did I just do? It wasn’t Bently she was mad at, but the system that had taken her brother from her. She was furious at the cop who had pulled the trigger. At society for fearing her smart, amazing brother who’d overcome more adversity than most of them would ever know in a lifetime, all before he was eleven years old. He had been going to save lives and change the world. Now he was a hashtag.

  Belle sucked in a pained breath. Every cell in her body ached, down to the marrow of her bones. Devastation wracked her. She was locked in a prison of grief. Hot tears stung her chapped face as the weight of everything crushed her. She was suffocated by anguish, asphyxiated by anger, strangled with regret.

  Could she ever live with the fact that the man she loved was a cop? That he’d vowed to uphold unjust laws that had racism pounded into their very fiber?

  She gasped for air.

  I just blamed him for an entire country’s fault.

  And now he was gone when she needed him most. She’
d pushed him away.

  She let out a guttural scream and began to sob until no sound came out. She pounded her fists into the mattress. Her lungs depressed, locking in place, burning. She couldn’t breathe. The edges of her vision darkened.

  The bed dipped and a cold, hard body melded against hers as two strong arms held her.

  “Shhh. It’s okay. Just breathe. In one, two, three, four. Now out, one, two, three, four. Five things you can see. Name them,” Bently’s voice commanded gently.

  “Window. Wall. Hand. Bed. Blanket.”

  “Five things you can feel.”

  She listed off sensations as he guided her back from her panic attack. He held her while she calmed down, the emotional strain overwhelming her with exhaustion. Her heavy eyelids drooped closed.

  “I’m here. Sleep, Angel. I’m not going anywhere. Not when you need me.”

  Her heart beat for what felt like the first time since she’d seen her brother’s body. But just once. A flicker and then it was gone.

  Bently’s voice rumbled in his chest. “I can’t leave you like this. Give me your hurt. Give me your anger. Cast it all on me. I can take it. I can be strong for the both of us for now. Hate me, but let me love you.”

  Chapter 47

  Belle

  Belle pushed the eggs around on her plate. More food she wouldn’t be able to stomach. Her appetite was as absent as her brother.

  Bently’s pacing was the only sound in the otherwise silent room. The worry in his eyes was always aimed at her. He hadn’t left her side in days—making calls, taking care of the funeral arrangements.

  Her inhale was shallow, her chest aching too much to take in a full breath. Her eyes felt like sandpaper. And her muscles ached from all the tensing she’d done while she sobbed into TJ’s mattress night after night. She had no energy left. She was depleted of everything. Her life had been snuffed out along with her brother’s. Her reason for fighting through the pain was gone. What was she doing here?

  Why bother if life is more painful than death? Why not just lie down and never get up again?

  She was exhausted from fighting to see another day. Everything she’d ever done was for TJ to have a better life. So she’d not repeat the mistakes her mother had made. And what good had it done her? TJ was dead.

  The floor creaked under Bently’s weight as he set a cup of tea in front of her. He’d been careful to keep his distance, only touching her when he absolutely had to. Like when I need to shower. Or when I cry so hard I can’t breathe. Or when the panic attacks come.

  He’s my lighthouse in the storm. My gravity. And I fucked it up.

  Was he here out of obligation now?

  She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. His shoulders sagged, as if he carried the weight of the universe on them. Overgrown stubble was now more of a short beard on his jaw. He ran a hand through his messy and unkempt hair. The dark rings under his bloodshot eyes would have caused her heart to ache, if she was capable of feeling anything anymore but grief. She was paralyzed with it. Disbelief that TJ was actually gone switched to anger, and then hopelessness. A constant erratic cycle that consumed her. Sucking her into this dark pit of despair. It was as if she was being buried alive. There was no light here. No oxygen. No hope.

  But he was here with her through it all. She’d screamed at him. She’d blamed him. She’d pushed him away. But he’d stayed.

  Her gaze met his as he sat across from her at the table.

  “How about some soup?”

  She shook her head. She’d just throw it up anyways. There was no point.

  “You gotta eat something. He wouldn’t want this.” Bently’s voice was gentle and true. A compass in the desert. A guiding light in the darkness.

  “I can’t.”

  “What about the tea?” He motioned to the mug.

  Her stomach rolled. Her mouth was parched, but it didn’t feel right. She couldn’t go on without TJ. He was more than her brother. He was like her child. She’d lost him.

  “Just a sip,” Bently pressed.

  She reached for the handle, sealing her lips to the edge of the ceramic as she sipped the dull liquid. Food had lost its taste. The day had lost its brightness. Color had lost its vividness. Nothing was the same. And everything was wrong.

  Bently relaxed in the seat, his shoulders lowering. He didn’t deserve this. I don’t deserve him.

  Knock. Knock.

  Belle’s head swiveled to the front door as Bently stood. He cleared his throat and walked over to open the door.

  “Dios mio. Bently, I’m so sorry.” Mia’s accent drifted in as Bently widened the door. She walked in with Andre trailing right behind her.

  “You doing okay?” Andre asked.

  Bently nodded before glancing to her. His friends turned their gazes on her. She didn’t want company. She wanted to be left alone. Irritation boiled.

  “Belle, sweetheart.” Mia came over to her, setting a bag on the table before she wrapped her arms around her.

  Belle’s chest tightened and her eyes burned.

  Mia released her and sat in the chair next to her, gripping her hand. The gesture provided a flicker of comfort.

  “You guys, give us some privacy,” Mia called to Andre over her shoulder.

  Bently’s brows formed a triangle, looking to Belle as if to make sure she’d be okay.

  Belle nodded as Andre wrapped his arm roughly around his friend, pulling him outside the door.

  “Not hungry?” Mia asked.

  Belle shook her head.

  “This will get better. I know you’re in the thick of it right now. It’s all so fresh. But I promise you, it will get easier.” Mia patted her hand.

  Anger rose, heating Belle’s veins. “How would you know? All my life I’ve fought for something better. I finally got there. TJ was about to start a life on his own and—and—” Belle choked on the words.

  Mia pulled out a bottle of clear tequila and two glasses. She poured them each some and pushed one cup to Belle. “My father was killed in front of me when I was a child by the cartel. My mother . . . she died a little over a year ago, violently, by the hands of the same group. I know what it is to lose someone. To wonder why you should even bother to go on with life. To want to give up.” She shook her head. “But then I realized how selfish that was. That the best way to honor their lives was to live my life to the fullest for them. To laugh three times as hard. To wake up each morning and greet the sunrise for them.” Mia leaned forward. Her brown eyes peered deep into Belle’s soul. “It will take time, but you’ll get there. You’ll want to live again. You’ll feel again. But only if you process this grief. Only if you give yourself the chance to heal.”

  Belle was speechless. She’d had no idea that Mia had experienced such loss herself. “It hurts so much.” Belle’s voice cracked.

  Mia wrapped her arm around her. “I know, sweetheart. It will for a long time. Some of that hurt will be with you for the rest of your life, but someday you will be able to turn that pain into something beautiful. The ones we loved and lost don’t leave us completely. Every time you feel the sunshine on your skin, it’s him embracing you in a warm hug. Every time the wind rustles through the trees, it is TJ letting you know he’s there. He’s all around you, but most importantly, you are carrying him inside your heart. You loved him. He is a part of you. You’ll always have him with you.” Mia squeezed her shoulder.

  Belle blinked back tears. Was he still with her? She’d never been one for religion, or fairy tales of golden gates. But something lifted inside her. The weight bearing on her shoulders lightening just a fraction at the thought of TJ’s spirit watching over her, staying close. “When will it stop hurting?”

  Mia gave her a sad smile. “That depends on you. Grief is different for everyone. But the only way to get past it is to go through it.”

  �
�I’m so scared. And so tired. I don’t think I can do it,” Belle admitted, utterly defeated.

  “You have a guardian angel watching over you. Let him carry you when you’re too weak to stand. Let him hold you when you fall. Eventually, you won’t need to lean on him so much. But for now, let him be there for you.” Mia’s voice was understanding.

  “I can’t feel him here. I’m all alone.” Belle shook her head.

  “That man is not going anywhere. Andre dragged him out to make sure he was getting a good meal and some support. He’ll be back.”

  Bently? Mia had meant let Bently be here for her, not the ghost of her brother. But he couldn’t. “I don’t deserve him.”

  Mia chuckled. “Of course you do. You deserve the world. And that man wants to give it to you. You have to make a choice. Are you going to let this tragedy rip you apart, or use it to make you stronger as a unit?”

  Belle remained silent as she contemplated her life. Everything she’d fought through to get here, all the things she’d sacrificed. If she gave up now, they would all be in vain. She imagined TJ sitting in the empty chair next to her, his headphones in, scribbling in his notebook. His goofy smile as he looked up at her, admiration shining in his eyes. Her chest squeezed. She wanted to make him proud. She needed to make his sacrifice count. She’d do right by him. “I want to live for TJ.”

  Mia picked up the glass and lifted it to her with a kind smile. “To TJ. May he rest in peace and never be forgotten. We celebrate the time we had with our loved ones. May we honor them with our lives.”

  Belle picked up her glass and clinked hers with Mia’s before swallowing the liquid. She coughed as the liquor burned her throat.

  “Another?” Mia asked.

  Belle nodded. She’d drink to TJ. She’d take another breath for him until she could do it for herself. She’d push forward and never give up.

  And she wouldn’t let his death be in vain.

  Chapter 48

  Belle

  The hot water sluiced over Belle’s raw skin. She stood, pushing through the aching emptiness with the hope that someday it would dull. For now, she’d allow herself to fall apart. Then, she’d get back up. Just as she’d always done.