Malum: Part 1 (The Elite King's Club 4)

Two hours later, everything that meant something to me is packed away in insignificant boxes. That’s all I have left of my daughter.

“Have a shower. We’re leaving here in forty minutes.”

I go to say that I don’t want one—that I don’t care. Instead, I walk straight for the bathroom, slipping in and out of the shower when a silver bracelet on the floor catches my eye. It’s the one Nate bought for her on our family day. It was supposed to be the first of many. I take the bracelet and squeeze it in my fist, my eyes coming to the mirror. I’ll keep this forever. It will be the anchor I use to remember who I used to be.

The drive to the cemetery was long because the Malum plot of land is on the other side of New York. I didn’t ask why she was going to Malum and not Riverside. I figured Nate is doing what he thinks he needs to do and if it was Riverside, then it would be Riverside. The line of cars is a little excessive. I’m pretty sure I had never met these people before, but again, Nate probably had. Who knew, The Elite Kings Club have hearts.

I climb out of the back of the car, Nate, his mom, Madison’s dad, and Madison were in and start walking straight for the pit.

I need this day over with. I cannot take it for much longer. I need to put her to rest. The closer I get to putting her to rest, the more my blood pumping through my veins feels like poison.

I stand the closest to the empty pit and wait.

And wait.

People eventually crowd around, and the casket is finally sitting on the top of silver poles. I watch, zoning everyone else out as it slowly lowers into the ground while the minister sputters off lines from the fucking Bible. Since she has gone, I feel like I’ve died one-thousand deaths, only every time I die, I wake up and she’s still not here. I pick up a tulip and press my lips to the smooth petals before throwing it down.

“Mama loves you, baby girl. Forever and for always.”

I turn and walk away. I’ll wait for them in the car.

I wait for an hour before Nate and his family start coming back. He’s wearing a suit fit for a king. I giggle to myself at my thoughts. King. Tailored to fit every single inch of him perfectly, and a pink tie.

Pink. Her favorite color. Well, at least I assumed it was. Nate joked once about it because she would always grab my hair.

I take another sip of whiskey as the doors to the limo all open.

Everyone slides in, but it’s a blur. I’m hot, sweaty and bothered. Everything aches. I’m sick of being in pain. I want my daughter back in my arms. The thoughts are crippling. I slam my eyes closed and bring the rim of the bottle to my mouth, taking large gulps.

Elena sits beside me on one side and Nate sits beside Madison opposite us. I don’t look at him because I can’t. The drive home is far longer than the drive there and every single mile feels like the air is being extracted out of the car.

I feel reckless.

I feel lost.

But most of all, I feel nothing like me.

Tillie

We’re all in the pool house later that night, most of us blinded from top-shelf alcohol.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” I slur, standing on the middle of the coffee table. Nate and Brantley are behind me stretched out on the sofa and Bishop and Madison are in front of me on the lazy boy. Hunter, Jase, and Eli were here but disappeared, probably when they saw how dark we all were feeling. People mourn in different ways, yes, but I also feel like it depends on the ferocity of the hole that person leaves in your life. The bigger the hole, the bigger the mess.

I lift my arm high, tears slide silently down my cheeks. Not an obvious tsunami like earlier.

“Shut up, Tillie,” I hear from behind me, and I don’t have to turn to know who it was.

I ignore Nate and continue dancing to “Deuces” from Chris Brown. The slow song possessing every limb of my body. If only music could seize every thought too, turning them into simple music notes instead of the ghosts that meet me behind my closed eyes. I will never recover from losing her. Not ever. There’s no point in me living the rest of life within boundaries. It’s time to shove those to the side. I just want to feel good. Sweat slides down between my boobs as I continue to dance until I trip and fall, subsequently landing on Brantley’s lap. “Talk that Talk” by Rihanna starts playing next. I lick my lip, my eyes dropping to Brantley’s mouth.