The Wild Finale (The Wild Boys #3) - Erin O'Kane Page 0,1

picture of the burnt rehearsal space where he died. Every time I see it, all that pain floods back until I can’t breathe, never mind function. It makes trying to find closure pretty fucking difficult.

It’s strange. Some moments, it’s almost like it isn’t real. I expect him to walk through the door with a smile and a welcoming hug, that drawl of his calling me ‘kid.’ To have our morning coffee together and joke about something one of the guys did. Other moments, his loss slams into me, reminding me he’s gone.

I will never see his smile again.

Never see his face.

Never hear his voice.

I will never do another show with him, never joke with him. His life is just…gone. One moment, he was here, a soul so big, he impacted our whole company. Now, the tendrils of his life are drifting down in ashes.

I barely hear the service, I don’t speak. I can’t. Neither can the boys. I hear them crying, and when I glance up, Blake has silent tears streaming down his face, his hand clenching mine desperately. I want to kiss him and make it all better. They knew him far longer than I did. He was part of their lives for such a long time, and I wish I could do something.

But I can’t. And when those eyes turn to me, so filled with pain that it rips through my soul, I know we will never be the same. How could we be? We are a broken family missing our heart. Guilt riddles mine so badly, it’s hard to breathe, never mind look at the men I love.

People start to stream outside, but I can’t move, can’t unglue myself from the pew. If I do, he’s really gone, and I’m not ready for that right now.

“Gabby,” Emmett rasps from behind me, leaning his forehead against my shoulder. “We have to go out and-and see—”

“I know,” I whisper. “But they are all there, all those cameras waiting to capture our pain and sell it for fucking amusement.”

“I know,” he murmurs brokenly. All of them are looking to me for guidance, but I can’t. I know I was their manager before and I led them in situations like this, especially where the media was concerned, but right now, I can’t lead them. I can’t make decisions. How can I? I feel like I’m drowning, lost at sea without an anchor or a ship.

“For Mark,” Kingston says quietly and gets to his feet, straightening his suit. He stands tall, unashamed of the tears still in his eyes and the ones dripping down his face.

One by one, we slide from the pew and head outside. I put on my sunglasses, still clenching Blake’s hand as the flash of the cameras start, capturing each and every moment of the second worst day of my life.

We turn away and follow the procession to the cemetery around back. We wander over the cobble path, the sun beating down on us. We pass carved headstones, the closest ones so old, I can hardly read the writing, and as we walk farther, they become gradually newer. Some are shaped like angels, some are embellished with gold, and others are plain. Some graves are even unmarked.

It’s depressing.

Some say it comforts them to have a place where they can go and visit their loved ones. All it does for me is remind me Mark is truly gone, in the ground, rotting and absent.

Just like my brother.

Because everyone I love leaves me.

We stop before a freshly dug hole, the soil piled over to one side, ready to entomb him forever.

We stand together, The Wild Boys and me. The whole crew is here, spread around, somber and grieving, but we stay away from them, knowing one of them killed him.

Took him from us.

One of them is a murderer.

Behind my shades, I scan the area, meeting each and every eye as the vicar reads more useless words. Someone here, someone pretending to be in pain, killed him. How? How could they do that?

How could they betray us? How could they kill a man who never did anything wrong but love them, treat them with respect, and offer them a chance at a better life? What’s worse is I can’t even tell. Everyone looks so upset, so in pain, that whoever did it is a very good fucking actor, and this irritates me even more.

The police have no suspects, they are fucking useless, and the person who did this is free, walking