Chapter 6

Elena

Carol’s hazel eyes widen as I continue. “…and I was there.”

Her jaw lacks and she leans into the table to grab my hands. “Oh honey. How? Are you okay?” Before I can comprehend anything, she drags her chair next to mine and wraps her arms around me. “Oh, sweetie,” she chokes.

“I’m okay, I think.” It’s what I keep telling myself every morning in that same monotone voice.

“Oh honey, how did that happen?” she asks in disbelief.

I take a deep breath, there’s no going back now. My eyes find her sad ones as I explain the whole story. Her mouth drops, a few tears leak out, her eyes close and she shakes her head as I tell her every detail from when I opened that video message.

“So, as you can imagine, I never want to see Michael again.” Deep down, I know that’s a lie, but I need to ignore that part of myself if I still want to hang on to any shred of dignity. “I am so torn up about two different things, I feel so conflicted and lost. I don’t even know how to grieve or what to grieve. I mean, I witnessed my father be murdered.” I feel that uncomfortable lump in my throat grow as I start to cry. “The whole reason I thought he took this job was to get away from heavy crime – to do his job more safely in a sleepy town. He lied to me too! I wanted him to get away from the possibility of being shot to death and…” I sniffle. “…and that’s exactly how he died!”

I wipe my nose with the sleeve of my shirt as tears trail down my face. Carol sits close to me, rubbing my back as I let it all out. “I saw it happen and I can’t get the image out of my mind. My heart hurts and it feels broken at the same time because of what your son did. I was just a job to him!” I yell in frustration. Frustration from crying, from hurting, from the fact that my life just sucks. My watery eyes find Carol’s glossy ones. “I don’t know how I should feel, it’s like, Michael shattered my heart into a million pieces…and on top of losing my dad, I… How am I supposed to move on from this? How am I supposed to grieve?” My voice breaks even more to a whisper, “What do I do?”

Carol places her hands on either side of my face and says, “There is no way I can understand how you’re feeling but know that I am here for you. Right now, all you can do is take one day at a time. I refuse to believe that you won’t heal, okay?” I take a long blink and nod my head a bit in her hold. “This will take time, but you will overcome this,” she says with determination. “As long as you stay here, I’ll do everything in my power to keep my son away from you until I’m told differently.”

I nod again and weakly thank her. She grips me into a hug and for once, since everything, there’s a microscopic piece of me that feels like I might be okay…eventually.

******

Standing here at my father’s casket, I take in how incredibly different he looks. His face is almost a grey color with a light peach powder reflection. His beard is trimmed, his dark hair is brushed back. He never wore it brushed back. Without realizing it, I pull down a few dark strands over his forehead – like it was when I last saw him. I’m glad they didn’t try to hide some of the grey hairs in his sideburn, mustache, and beard.

He’s dressed in his navy detective’s uniform with the badge over his heart. His arms are across the upper portion of his stomach with his hands overlapped. I don’t think I’ve seen his fingernails so clean before.

Oh Dad.

It’s an eerie feeling to see someone you love to be presented like this. It’s like they’re here, but they’re not.

I’m not sure when it happened, but the church is more packed than I thought it would be; I only thought that a small handful of people would be here to share their condolences. It seems as though more than half the town is here.

My head feels dizzy. At one point, Carol just guides me to a seat, probably picking up the fact that I won’t be leaving my zombie state for a while. My fingers fidget with the fabric on the pew beneath me as I reflect the past few days; it’s all a blur. Somehow Carol managed to take care of all the funeral arrangements – which I’m thankful for. I wouldn’t have been able to make any of the decisions that had to be made:

Cremation or burial?

What kind of flower arrangements would I like?

Open or closed casket?

Is there a slideshow of pictures I’d like to display?

Am I speaking the eulogy or is someone else?

Do I have a pastor for the funeral?

People have come up to me to pay their respects and give hugs – I don’t know any of them except for a select few. There are a few students from school that I recognize, Ovid being one of them. She came here with her sister, Rose.

Do they know?

“Hi, Elena,” Rose says quietly as she reaches for a hug, I give her one. “I am so sorry for your loss,” she says.

Ovid hugs me next. “I’m so sorry, Elena.”

“Thanks,” I say meekly.

“If you ever want to talk, just call me, okay?” Rose offers. I’m sure she’s just being polite, but I will definitely call her.

“Thank you,” is all I reply as they move on to take their seats.

As everyone finds their spots in the pews, Reverend Viper takes his position at the podium in front of the church.

“Thank you, everyone for coming today in remembering Detective Elijah Cochran.” The reverend speaks to the congregation while sliding his bright blue eyes on me throughout his speech. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him, myself, and I’m glad that we had an opportunity this last Christmas Eve to catch up.” My brows furrow at that statement.

Reverend Viper knew my dad?

“He was a good cop, detective, and I have no doubt he was a wonderful father.” His eyes drop on me at the father remark; I hold his gaze as he continues. “Elijah was a man of integrity, grit, and loyalty. He was a man that any of you could have counted on. He loved with all he had.” His eyes break away from mine. “Elijah was a man of honor, wisdom, and courage. When we were younger, we would hang out and if there was any sign of trouble around us, he was the first one to jump in for the rescue.” A ghost of a smile lands on my lips – that sounds like Dad.

As the preacher continues the eulogy, I can’t help but wonder why Dad never mentioned that he knew a Viper.

Viper. That’s an odd name for someone… almost sounds like a biker name.

Tattoos. The man at the podium has tattoos up and down his tan arms. Was he a part of the Outlaws with my dad? With Mike’s dad?

I frown at the fact that Dad held so many secrets. Secrets that I’ll never be able to get to the bottom of because he’s gone.

During my silent pity party which drowns out Viper’s words, I feel a twinge of something prick the back of my neck. It’s the feeling of being watched. I drop my left shoulder a tad and sneak a peek to see if anyone is watching me through the sea of faces.

I see him.

He’s in the far corner of the church with Paul, Tick, and someone else from the club standing with him. Those green eyes zero in on me like a predator. The features on his face show his feelings of solemnness, worry, guilt, and shame.

Good.

His normal clothing of black jeans, boots, and a black t-shirt with his faded leather vest seems fitting for once – given the fact that he’s in all black and at a funeral.

A funeral so nice that I have no idea how it was paid for. I snap my gaze away from Michael to land back on Viper as he closes the ceremony with a prayer. A prayer asking for comfort and healing for the ones Elijah left behind.

Translation: Me. A prayer just for me. I have no idea where my grandparents are, they have never been a part of my life. Neither of my parents have siblings.

I'm the only one left... 

**Whew! I made it to another three chapters since last week! Score! What do you think of it? I feel so bad for Elena. Will Mike ever get back on her good side? Will she ever trust him again?

I hope to have another few chapters up sometime next week!**