Afterglow

harsh

Staring at the dark circles peppering my eyes, I sighed and applied yet another glob of concealer to hide the fact that I was completely and utterly exhausted, though not from lack of sleep.

My mind was tired, from the running and the crying and all the damn pain that I'd had to endure in less than a year's time.

"Hey, you almost ready? The funeral starts in two hours and it's an hour drive to get to the funeral home."

I bristled at Lachlan's words, the reality of them spoken aloud made all too real.

He was dressed impeccably, black suit jacket pristine despite having been stuffed in his backpack not twelve hours before. The crisp white undershirt was absent of a tie, and his matching black slacks and dress shoes completed the look. He was classic and elegant, while I just felt out of place.

I was adorned in a black dress that I'd snatched from my mother's house, short capped sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, ending just below my knee, paired with black heels. I'd fixed my dark hair into a side fishtail braid, curling the pieces that framed my face while the braid ended a few inches above my stomach.

I'd kept my makeup light, despite the concealer to hide the evidence of my inner turmoil that was trying to etch itself onto the outside of me, and it was doing a pretty damn good job of it.

There wasn't enough room in my brain to cope with the things that had been thrown my way, so I focused on one thing at a time, and at that moment, it was figuring out how to not look like I had no eyes without wearing mascara.

"Blythe wanted me to give you this," Lachlan said as he approached the vanity where I sat contemplating how to best stave off a panic attack because of not knowing what to do with my face.

It was a waterproof mascara tube, and that slight little action made me want to double over and cry off the makeup I'd so expertly applied already.

I gratefully accepted the makeup and began to apply it, feeling much better because if my makeup was perfect, then the inside had to match, too. It had to.

"Taylor, Lincoln, Sloane, Holden and Blythe are all going to stay back at the hotel while Vera goes with the two of us to the funeral. They're going to try and pinpoint your birth father's location, and I was able to get my hands on this while you were sleeping," he said, and pulled out a gun.

Black, glinting metal shone back at me from his hand and my eyes widened in surprise.

"Where did you get that?!"

"Brandon helped me get it. I told him I was worried about safety in the city and he knew a guy. This way, if your birth father comes anywhere near us, we'll be protected."

He cocked the gun and emptied the chamber while releasing the magazine and tucked the magazine into one side of his pants while putting the gun on the other, tucking them both neatly underneath his suit jacket.

It was unnerving to have something so lethal so close by, but I had to admit that watching him cock that gun was attractive, especially with the way that his tattoos peeked out from underneath his long sleeved jacket as he did so. And then I felt guilt for even thinking something like that on the day that Ian's family was burying him.

The harsh thought that he was going to be lain to rest six feet underground was like a splash of cool water on my face, and I simply nodded at Lachlan's words, focusing on fixing any stray hairs and not letting my mind wander any further than it already had.

"I'm ready, we're grabbing breakfast first right?"

"Yeah, we can grab the continental breakfast downstairs with everyone else."