Secrets That Bind | Book I

29 // making sense of it all

𝘈𝘯𝘢𝘺𝘢

I've been playing the scene over and over in my head—the bullets piercing the air, Ryan's body falling over, his breathing shallowing as I hold onto him for dear life, hoping to the universe that he makes it—I play through all of it as cries of the clouds give me company.

Even mother nature knows that the world has lost a good soul—a pure soul.

Ryan's coffee-colored lifeless eyes are all I see as I blankly stare at the patch of grass inches away from his casket. The clouds continue to mourn—harder—water pelting down on my shoulders as my eyes go up to see Ryan's family hugging each other, grief-stricken that their oldest son is no more.

It should've been me. It should've been me. It should've been me.

An arm snakes around my shoulders, pulling me towards a tall figure. I don't bother looking because I know it's Max. He doesn't say anything, nor do I. We stand there amongst the small crowd that's circled around Ryan's burial vault.

As his casket is lowered into the ground, the mental wall that's been keeping my tears back crumbles to the ground. Seconds later, my vision is blurry with salty tears as the wooden casket disappears.

The finality of the situation settles in when my eyes fall on Mrs. Wu, Ryan's mom. Ryan is dead and nothing can undo that. Nothing can bring him back.

I feel Max nudge me to turn around—to head back to his car—but I remain unmoving. There's something weighing down on me, keeping me rooted in place right by Ryan's grave.

If I was walking just a foot more to the left, I could've blocked the gunshots from hitting Ryan, but I wasn't.

Now I'm here, when it really should be Ryan.

I look over to my right where people from the agency are standing at. Jeff and Charlize at the front, Alex and a group of my former colleagues behind them. Gritting my teeth, I tear my eyes away from them. The audacity Jeff has to stand here astonishes me. If he listened all those months ago when I brought up the mafia, we wouldn't be here—Dom and Ryan would still be alive.

How many more people are going to die just so he can get an extra buck?

"I'm surprised he isn't fired yet," I mumble.

"Who? Jeff?" Max asks.

I nod my head, my eyes briefly going back to the salt and pepper haired man. "Ryan told me Charlize was interviewing his replacement. That's why she's still here."

Max snorts. "Wouldn't make a difference. They'd probably get another corrupt person to replace him."

I don't reply, my eyes going back to the hole in the ground, the top of Ryan's casket glistening under the rain.

"I never thought the FBI would turn out to be filled with dirty agents—thought it was a Hollywood thing."

"Money talks."

///

The soggy, black fabric of my dress clings to my body as I silently watch the city fly by me. I can feel Max's eyes frequently flick over to me—as though I'm a ticking time bomb or a glass statue.

We climb out of his car and head up to my apartment. I haven't been to my apartment after Frank's untimely visit, so I know Max is in for a treat.

"Are you going to tell me what you two were doing at the park at five in the morning?" Max asks, his voice coated with exhaustion as he turns to face me.