I can almost see her swipe her hand through the air as she answers me. “Nothing, Theo. I had a scare, and I want to spoil my grandbabies before I am too old.”

  “What scare?” I pause in the middle of the frozen food aisle as my phone beeps with an incoming call.

  “Nothing to worry of now.”

  My phone beeps again. “Shit,” I mutter, pulling it away from my ear and seeing Charleston PD flashing across the screen. “Mamá, I love you, but I’ve gotta go.”

  She sighs. “Babies, Theo, and a strong woman.” She hangs up before I can respond.

  Answering the incoming call with a snapped, “Burkhart,” I can hear ringing phones in the background.

  “Theo Burkhart?” a woman says.

  “Yeah, what’s going on?”

  “Do you know a Lola Bishop?” Placing the basket I’d grabbed on the ground, I turn around and start running for my car.

  “What happened?” It can’t be good if the police are calling.

  “There was an accident this morning, and we can’t reach her brother; she gave us your name instead.” The woman rattles off an address for me to go to, and I’m already in my car, speeding down the road and calling Ryder at the same time.

  “Hey, man.” He answers on the second ring as my tires squeal out of a sharp turn.

  I’m a block away, but I can see lights flashing. “Something happened to Lola. Don’t call Nix yet; I’ll keep you updated.” Slamming on the brakes, I’m barely out of the car when I start screaming her name. “Lola!”

  Officers, bystanders, EMTs, they all look at me like I’ve lost my fucking mind. “Lola Bishop!” I yell again.

  Spotting a girl wrapped in a dark-colored blanket with her head resting against the doors at the back of an ambulance, I do a double-take when I see her hair is covered in blood. Streaks of crimson are all over her face, and I feel sick.

  “Whoa, sir, who are you?” An officer stops me from going to her.

  When her eyes open and she looks dazed, I respond, “Theo Burkhart. I’m Lola’s man,” and rush to her. “Lola, baby, look at me.” I hesitate to touch her until our eyes meet, and I see the torture in her stare.

  “Theo?” Her voice cracks, and the flood gates open. She begins to hyperventilate and grows pale from lack of oxygen. An EMT comes running over and places a mask over her face.

  “Is she injured?” I ask him.

  “Physically, no.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” My words are clipped with irritation as I pick her up and cradle her in my chest.

  Before he can answer, a gurney with a black body bag is slowly being led out of the small house I’m just now noticing. “What happened in there?” I growl.

  “She found someone.” Son of a bitch. “She tried to revive him. It’s why she’s covered…” He waves his hand at her body, indicating the blood.

  “Excuse me, Miss Bishop?” A man in a suit, likely a detective, interrupts us. “I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “No,” I snap. “Lola’s in no shape to be answering anything.” I don’t need all the gory details to know my kind-hearted girl is broken up about whoever that is and whatever happened. “Give me your card, and I’ll call you in the morning to set something up.” Standing with Lola in my arms, the EMT takes the mask off her face as I hold a hand out to accept the card.

  He huffs before reaching into his wallet and giving it to me, with instructions. “I’d like to see Miss Bishop first thing in the morning. I’ll expect your call at eight.”

  “I’ll call you at ten.” I walk away before he can try to detain us. It wouldn’t work, but he could cause a hassle Lola doesn’t need.

  Ignoring the looks from everyone as we pass by, I head straight for my car, opening the passenger side and placing Lola in the seat. Her cobalt gaze is wide open and staring off into space. She’s become detached from whatever horror she witnessed in that house.

  “I’m taking you home, my girl. I’ll help you,” I whisper in her ear before placing a kiss on her temple.

  I've imagined this moment a million times over the last year, but not once did I think the reason I'd bring her home would be because of a dead body and the need for a safe place to decompress and recover.

  Quickly rounding the hood of the car, I slide in the driver’s seat and begin the twenty-minute drive home and call Ryder back.

  He picks up immediately. “She alright, man?”

  “She’s not hurt,” I say, glancing over at Lola's still form. I worry about her mental health, though. “I’m taking her home now. She’s gonna spend the night with me, but can you and Foster be here for ten? She’s gonna need all of us.”

  “Yeah, of course. Call me later and let me know if she needs anything.” I can tell he wants more info, but I don’t even know what happened, so I can’t give him anything.

  “Will do, man. Let Nix know that she’s alright, but the sooner he’s home, the better. For her sake.” I gaze over at my girl, eyes closed, curled up in the seat. My heart breaks for her.

  Hanging up with Ry, silence fills the car as my worry amplifies for the normally happy, bombastic, optimistic girl Lola has always been. She’s had so much tragedy in her short life that maybe this could be her breaking point.

  Whatever this is.

  “I’ll take care of everything, Lola. Just rest,” I murmur, unsure if she even hears me.

  Lola

  “Soft Dark Nothing" by Lily Kershaw

  Blood. So much blood. It’s all I can see behind my closed eyes. It’s a mirror in my vision I can’t break. I want to answer Theo as he talks to me, tries to reassure me, but I can’t. The words won’t come. My throat is so tight I can barely swallow.

  “Lola, we’re here.” His townhouse isn’t far from my tiny apartment, but it feels like years have passed from the time we left Sam’s to when the engine goes silent in Theo’s car. “Let’s get you inside.” I don’t move as I hear him exit the vehicle, nor when the breeze of my door opening hits my back, and he picks me up.

  I feel weighed down. My body has just given up any pretense of usefulness. All I have is my mind and the pictures of Sam’s lifeless body in the tub. Soaked in his own blood.

  I used to think Sam was the strongest person I knew, outside of my brother's team, because he never allowed anything to bother him. Or so I thought.

  I thought a lot of things about Sam.

  Now he’s gone.

  “Why would he leave me?” I whisper again. Nobody has answered that question, and I can’t comprehend it.

  “Sweetheart, look at me,” Theo’s husky voice whispers in my ear. With my head still resting on his shoulder, I open my eyes and realize that we've made it into his house, and he’s carrying me up the stairs.

  “Was I not good enough for him?” My chest seizes as I think of all the ways I’ve never been good enough for anyone. I’m always left behind.

  As we enter the bathroom, Theo leaves the lights off as he sets me on the counter, the marble cool against my bare legs.

  “Lola.” His eyes darken as he drops his fists on either side of my hips and leans his forehead against mine. “Fuck.” His breathing is deep as I struggle to find my own breath. “The truth is, you’re too good for him. For anyone.”

  I don’t get to retort as his lips slam over mine in a rough stealing of what little air remains in my lungs. He crowds my body as his hands grip my hips and drag me closer. His tongue slips between my lips, and for the first time all morning, I feel my heart beat again. Life flows through my body.

  Just as swiftly, it’s taken away and melts into an abyss of nothingness because this is only a physical reaction for him. I’ve loved Theo Burkhart since I was sixteen. But to him, I’m still his friend's little sister. This kiss, this first time of caressing this man's lips with my tongue as he retreats, cursing, is a fluke my fragile heart can’t bear right now.

  I feel cold without him touching me as he slowly backs away to turn on the shower. Steam immediately begins to fill the room and gives me a pseudo cloak to mask my tears as they flow freely down my cheeks.

  I watch every move Theo makes as he closes the sliding door, pulls a towel down from the tall rack that it’s neatly folded on, and places it beside me on the counter. When he begins to remove his shirt, I hold my breath.

  As he reaches for me, undoing the tiny buttons of my once pale-yellow blouse, now blood-encrusted, I have to close my eyes again. I can’t see it. Not yet. I’ll be dreaming of red rivers the rest of my life now.

  “I can do it by myself.” My words are quiet as he helps me off the counter and starts undoing my shorts.

  His voice is still husky, and his eyes are heavy as he meets my watery stare. “I know you can, kitten, but I’m going to do it anyways.” My clothes drop to the floor in a stiff, bloody mess until I’m standing in front of him in nothing but my underwear.

  The rest of our clothes fall away, and he’s guiding me into the warm water of the shower spray. “Eyes closed,” he directs as his hands gently work through my long blonde locks. The curls tangle when they’re wet, but he doesn’t pull through, his firm fingers begin to massage my scalp.

  As relaxation filters through my bones, my emotions begin to pour out of me, and I lean on Theo for strength as I sob against his muscled chest. His steady heartbeat is the only thing keeping me grounded and curling up into myself.

  “Count my breaths, Lola. Count and don’t stop.” The words come out soft, but I hear the growl in his chest, and I hold onto his take-charge attitude because it’s what I need right now.

  I get so lost in counting that it’s not until I feel bubbles sliding down my cheek that I realize he’s washing my hair. My mind is so fogged, lost in my own pain that I can barely focus.

  When the water shuts off, and the door opens, the cooler air attacks and before I can let out a full-on shiver, Theo’s wrapping a cushy body towel around me and stroking my arm. My eyes are blurry as they try to focus, and I drink him in for the first time.

  He’s almost as naked as me. Soaked boxers are plastered to his hips and thighs, but it doesn’t hide what he’s packing behind them, and my mouth waters a little. His entire body is tan and muscled. Only a dusting of dark hair covers his chest.

  I suck in a sharp breath as he swoops me up into his arms and carries me out without drying himself off. Gently placing me on the edge of a bed in what I assume is his room, he strides towards a dresser, opening the middle drawer and pulling out a large t-shirt that has Navy written across the front.

  He doesn’t say a word as he pulls me to my feet, drapes the shirt over my head, allowing it to fall all the way down to my knees before he takes the towel from underneath. I’m so focused on everything he’s doing that I momentarily forget all that’s happened today, and guilt immediately swamps me as he guides me into his bed.

  My body begins shaking violently as I silently cry, trying to hide my pain because he’s done enough for me.

  “Hey, hey, kitten, what’s this?” I’m facing away from him in a ball, and he leans over to see my face. “Ahh, Lola, baby, you’re killing me.”

  I try to stop, but the more I do, the worse it becomes, and soon, it’s all that I am. Slamming my eyes shut, I pull the blanket over my head and pray that he leaves to save myself the embarrassment of completely breaking down in front of him.

  Theo

  I knew she was trying to hold it together. Just like I knew, eventually, that the dam would break. And break it fucking did. Her entire life, she’s had to be strong. Her parents' death, Nix leaving on frequent missions, Ryder dying, Ryder coming back to life, and now? Now, she's found her best friend dead.

  I can’t even begin to imagine what she’s going through, but I do know she must feel lonely. So even though my plan had been to get her to rest so I could make arrangements for her over the next few days, I find myself switching out my boxers for dry ones and climbing into bed behind her.

  Even though her sobs are silent, they’re body-racking. She shakes fiercely with stuttered breaths, and I know she’s going to hyperventilate soon if I don’t get her under control.

  Flipping her frame over to face me, I pull her into my chest, “You have to calm down, or you’re going to pass out, kitten.” I don’t think she hears me. “Fuck.”

  Gripping her thigh, I drag it over my hip and tangle my legs with her free one. Wrapping our bodies together, I hope she will start mimicking my breathing.

  “Baby, you’re gonna have to breathe easier, or I’m taking you to the hospital.” Her head shakes, and her hands wrap around my back, gripping me with bruising force. Her nails dig into my flesh as she buries her head into my chest.

  “Is it always going to hurt like this?” she whispers, her breath warm against my skin.

  I want to tell her no. That tomorrow will be easier. But tomorrow will be worse. Tomorrow it will hit that the one person she was able to count on for every minute of every day isn’t going to be there.

  I want to tell her that it won’t hurt when she goes to call him only to realize he won’t be answering. I want to tell her that next week she’ll be able to breathe a little easier and the tears won’t come as frequently.

  But the truth is, I can’t.

  And I can’t because I’ve been where she is. The loss of a best friend is nearly as bad as, or worse than, a family member. Because they weren't just friends. They were brothers and sisters, confidantes, and when she realizes she no longer has that, she’s going to experience the hurt all over again.

  “I wish I could say no, kitten.” I gaze down at her as she lifts her head to meet my stare, understanding in her sorrowful eyes. “I wish I could take your pain away, Lola.”

  Fresh tears surface, and her chin wobbles as she nods her head.

  “Get some rest, and we’ll figure things out tomorrow.” It’s barely mid-afternoon by the time her respiration slows, and she stops crying enough to rest. I know that when she wakes, she’s going to need me again, so I slip out of bed and grab a pair of grey sweats on my way out of the room, a plan already forming in my mind.

  Silently heading downstairs, I reach for my phone and give Ryder a call. “How’s our girl doing?” he asks.

  I don’t sugar coat my answer. “She’s a wreck. She found Sam in the tub, his wrists slit, fucking blood everywhere.” I can’t imagine how she felt seeing that.

  “Jesus Christ,” he mutters.

  “Understatement. She dragged him out and tried to save him, but he was long gone.” I stare back up the stairs, wondering all over again how to fix this for her. “I need a favor from Codie, man.”

  “You know she’ll do it.” The woman has a heart of gold.

  “Can you see if her counselor knows of any grief dogs? I can say and do a lot of things for her, but I think this could help her as well.” Hearing a whimper from upstairs, I add on, “The sooner, the better.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see what we can do. I got a hold of Nix too.” The sound of his voice conveys just how I’m sure our commander felt upon hearing the news.

  “Is he able to find relief?” We take on the missions that few others legally can, so finding a relief detail can sometimes be impossible.

  “Yeah, Asher’s got a friend, Wilde West. He’s bringing his team down so our guys can come home. Nix and Weston should be here tomorrow morning. They’re coming straight to you.” There’s a warning in his tone.

  Ryder Morrison knows me better than anybody else. We’ve been best friends for years, so he realized without me saying a thing as to how I’ve felt about Lola these last eighteen months. One day she was Lola, my friend's little sister, and the next she became Lola, the girl I was falling in love with.

  I struggled with the new emotions for months before finally admitting to myself that she was the one for me. Soon after, I decided I’d wait until she was older and surer of what she wanted in life. Have her finish school before pursuing her.

  Now, I’m not so sure. She needs me, but I don’t want to take advantage of her either. She’s in a vulnerable state, and as much as it kills me to wait longer, when she’s in my bed sleeping, kissing her is probably a mistake I’ll make again.

  Ryder adds, “Codie’s working on the dog. They’ll have your number and be in touch soon.” After hanging up with him, I give the detective from earlier a call to let him know that we’ll be in tomorrow after Nix arrives. I know my friend won’t want to miss that interview.

  With nothing left to do at the moment, my gaze wanders around my house, and I see the mess I left behind after we got back from a mission in Iceland last week and then a vigorous training schedule the past few days. Today is my first R&R day, and I’d planned to grocery shop and clean up.

  Now seems as good a time as any to get on the cleaning. Already knowing that I haven’t got any food in my fridge, I shoot a text to Foster asking him and Evie to grab a few things from the store and then stop by Lola’s place for some essentials. We all have keys to her apartment, just like she has keys to all our houses in case she ever needs space away from the world.

  For years, Lola has been the heart of our team. To us, she’s not just Nix’s little sister, she’s always been ours too. She has been there when we've needed her for anything. A hug, a joke, a companion.

  She held us together when we thought we lost Ryder. Now, it’s our turn to band around her and provide all the support she needs to wade herself through the murky waters of grief. There isn’t a thing any of us wouldn’t do for Lola, especially now that she's in need. Whether she asks for help or not, she’s getting it.

  Lost in cleaning and wondering how she's doing, if she’s dreaming or resting, I don’t realize how long it’s been since calling Ryder and cast a glance at the clock when I hear a knock on the door.

  Resting the broom against the wall, I open the door to see a woman with a dog. “Theo Burkhart?” I nod. “I’m Kathy, and this is Emily.” She points to the golden retriever. “She’s a grief companion. Codie explained Lola’s situation, and we felt it best to come right away.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15