Page 26 of Keeping Collette

The silence dragged though, longer than was usual when having a conversation with the former Delta.

“What’s going on?” Deal attempted to keep his voice light so as not to worry Collette, but he didn’t miss the glances she was sending his way, all interest in her food forgotten.

“Fuck, man.” Irish sighed. “We found Courtney.”

Deal gripped his phone a little tighter, trying to keep the tension out of his body. “Right, and?”

“It’s not good. Hound and Jag are already on the scene. They’ve called the cops. I figure it’s best Collette hears it from you and not anyone else.”

Fuck!

“Okay.” Deal faced the front door, unable to look at Collette, knowing he was about to break her heart. “Send me the details?”

“Will do. I’m sorry man.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Deal disconnected the call and took a deep breath. His phone pinged with an incoming message, and he opened it, studying the details quickly.

How did he tell Collette her sister had been found?

“She’s been found and she’s dead, isn’t she?” Collette was right behind him.

He should’ve known that nothing would’ve gotten past her. He turned and grabbed her hands. Tears were already streaking down her face. Her visible despair cut him deep. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

Chapter Thirteen

I’m so sorry, sweetheart.

With those four words, Collette’s world shattered. Even with Deal holding her, her knees buckled and she collapsed to the ground as sobs tore from the depths of her soul.

Loud.

Harsh.

Painful.

Deal’s arms closed around her and held her tightly. Not saying anything, just being there for her.

Her sister was only eighteen. She had her whole life ahead of her. And now it was over.

Why couldn’t it have been her? She would trade her place in this world for her sister to continue to have her own life. She’d lived enough. There were still things Collette wanted to do, but she would give it all up if it would give her sister another chance.

Yet, that was impossible.

This wasn’t a fictional story where people were reincarnated, or a soap opera where characters were killed off and then a month later come back to life by some miracle.

Courtney was dead.

“She’s gone,” she wailed. The words useless. Stupid words. Words that should’ve stayed locked down, but somehow erupted out of her.

“I’m sor⁠—”

“Stop,” she yelled, and pulled out of Deal’s arms, scrambling across the cool tiles of her small entry way. “Don’t say you’re sorry. Those words are pathetic. They don’t provide comfort. They’re empty platitudes.” Her breath hitched between each sentence.

Part of her was aware she was lashing out at Deal. Throwing her anger with the situation at him, when he’d done nothing to deserve it.

“You’re right.” Instead of letting her wallow on the ground, he crept over to where she’d retreated, scooped her up, and walked over to the couch. He settled down with her on his lap.

Grief and shock held her immobile. A numbness freezing her ability to move.