More Than Lies (More Than #1)(75)

“Stop acting like a child Taralynn.” My mother scolds. Why does she have to be such a bitch, all the time? “I’m burying my son today, and I need his friend to step up to the plate today and do this.”

“Katherine.”

“I won’t—” My dad and I both speak at the same time, but I’m not able to finish because Shawn cuts me off.

“I’ll do it.” He bites out the words. “Tara is right. My brother is in no shape to be a pallbearer. I’ll do it in his place.” His voice softens, but I can tell he’s angry with my mother for even wanting Shane to take on that responsibility. Shane’s barely holding it together as it is.

“Thank you, Shawn.” It’s my dad who speaks it. “Katherine, we need to head to the chapel.” My father turns, walking away without my mother. She glances at Shawn before peering back at me.

“I expect you to be in the chapel within fifteen minutes for the service. Until then, please take yourself to the lady’s room and sort out your face. Show your brother and everyone that came to show him respect some decency and go make yourself presentable.” With her harsh words, she turns and stalks after my father. And I bolt, yanking myself from Shawn’s grip.

I’m out the door from the main lobby within seconds. The blast of cold wind hits me in the face with a smack, but I don’t care. I don’t know where I’m headed. I just know I can’t do this; not today, not ever. Trent is gone, and I feel utterly lost. He didn’t do anything to deserve to die.

“Tara.” At the same time Shawn says my name, his arms wrap around my waist, halting my movements away from the funeral home. I twist in his arms, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. I’m holding on for dear life. I know it, and I’m sure he feels it too.

“I can’t do this.” My words are mumbled as my face is buried into his neck. With my four-inch heels on, I’m just an inch below Shawn’s six-foot-two stature.

“You have to, and you will.” He snakes his hand further around my waist as the palm on his other hand glides up my back, stopping at the nape of my neck. “For Trent, you can.” He squeezes the area of my neck reassuringly, and I pull back, sniffling the snot that wants to roll down my nose back up.

I nod my agreement. He’s right. I have no choice; this is my last moment to see my brother. Even if he is lying in a box that will seal shut and never open again.

“I got you. I promise.” His words are like a healing balm to my shattered soul.

About the time that I’m going to release him, a soft hand graces my shoulder and squeezes. I disconnect myself from Shawn, turning to find Eve and Chance standing next to us.

“Hey, baby girl.” I practically leap onto her. I’m a few inches taller than Eve Matthews, but she is no ordinary petite woman. Like Kylie, Eve makes up for her size in attitude and spunk, not to mention color. Eve is a lot to take in the first time you meet her. Chance calls her his living, breathing canvas. Colorful ink adorns her entire body. She really is a beautiful, breathtaking sight as are the photographs she makes.

“You came.” They’re the only words I can get out. The tears are starting to pour. The harder I try to hold them in, the more intense they seem to want to flow. I pull back from her and nod to Chance. He and Eve are best friends practically connected at the hip. They both grew up with my brother and were all really great friends, but Chance and Eve dropped out of high school early in high school. Eventually, Eve and Chance left Mississippi and moved to Las Vegas, Nevada to pursue their art. I know Chance has tried to get Shawn to move out west. I’m not sure why he never took the opportunity. Sure, the studio is doing great, but Shawn would get a lot more exposure in a big city like Vegas.

Eve’s voice brings me out of my thoughts.

“There aren’t many things that could get me to come back to this state, but I could never forgive myself if I didn’t come to say goodbye to him.” Eve is strong; I’ve often said she seems bigger than life. Emotions I’ve never seen her display are written loud and clear on her face. Her eyes are rimmed with red, and her lip tremors slightly when she breathes out.

Chance latches onto my wrist and pulls me into his warm arms for a brief hug.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Chance cups my face, applying a small amount of reassuring pressure, and then looks deep into my eyes briefly. He’s equally as striking as Eve with all the ink decorating his skin. The majority of his tattoos are covered by the dark suit he’s wearing, but a dragon’s paw with its claws digging into the skin on his neck is peeking out of his collar. Chance has jet-black hair, tanned skin, and a pair of stunning diamond blue eyes. He belongs on the cover of one of those tattoo magazines . . . or maybe on a billboard. “He got you?” He gestures in Shawn’s direction, and I nod. Chance does the same and releases me. “We’re going to head in.”

Shawn pulls my back into his front once again, and I soak up every ounce of affection he gives me. “We need to do the same,” Shawn whispers. “Please go see him one last time.”

Trent.

My head bobs. It’s the best I can do. I need to do this.

Lord, please give me strength.

And He does.

Moments later, I find myself standing in front of the shiny black casket, peering down at the body inside. It’s not him, not really. I know that, but it doesn’t stop me from wishing he would open his eyes, making this all one cruel joke.