A Beautiful Funeral

  "You lied?" Shepley cried, consoling his parents.

  "Why?" Tyler choked out.

  "I don't care why," Taylor said, rushing to hug his brother. Tyler did the same, and then we all crowded around Thomas, hugging him and sobbing.

  The living room was quiet except for the hushed humming of the ceiling fan and the hiss of the sprinkler outside. We comforted the kids and promised to explain later, sending them upstairs to play. They were hesitant but knew the grown-ups needed to sort it all out.

  Olive remained downstairs, standing in the corner bouncing a fussy Stella and patting her back. Falyn stood next to her, trying to help. The rest of us were either on the couch or in dining chairs pulled from the table. Everyone's eyes were red and puffy from sobbing; Deana was still sniffing and pulling tissues from the box.

  Thomas sat in a chair next to his dad, holding his hand. Jim was smiling; his relief permeated the room. The shock and relief from the others had faded, leaving the brothers confused and angry. Thomas looked prepared for anything, and I could tell he was sorry for the pain he'd caused before he'd ever said a word.

  "You knew about this?" Shepley asked Travis.

  "Yes," Travis said.

  "Who else?" Taylor asked.

  "I knew," Liis said.

  The brothers' faces contorted in anger.

  Tyler's face flashed red, one eye squinting. "You looked my dad straight in the eye, knowing his health, and told him his son had died?"

  Liis nodded.

  "She didn't want to," Travis said. "We didn't have a choice. There were too many people who could possibly make a mistake, and we were being watched. Closely."

  "There had to be another way," Ellie said.

  "There wasn't," Thomas answered. He squeezed Jim's hand. "I wish there was. I wish I didn't have to miss the first month of Stella's life, but we knew if we staged my death and Liis announced she wasn't going to pursue the case, that coupled with Mick's disappearance might cause them to back off."

  "You did all of this for a might?" Tyler fumed.

  "We had to act quickly. Hitmen were on their way to my house. They had already run Travis off the road thinking it was Abby. We needed to buy time. Maybe if we had more time to form a better plan, we could have thought of something better. Maybe moved you all to a safe house, but we didn't. They were in position to hit every one of you. Once they caught wind of my death, they backed off."

  "Why didn't you fake Travis's death?" I asked.

  Abby shot me a look. "Because he killed the men that came after him and walked away in front of a crowd of people."

  "You knew about this, too, didn't you?" I said, seething. I'd never been so angry at Abby before.

  "Yes," Thomas said. "And the agents we've been using for security and the director. That's it. No one else."

  We all looked at one another, shaking our heads in disbelief. No one seemed sure how to feel--whether to be happy Thomas was alive or angry that they had put us through so much hell.

  Wren touched his earpiece and looked out the window. "Sir," he began. Thomas stood and smiled. "It's Trent and Cami." He helped Jim up, and they walked outside to greet them. The rest of us followed.

  Cami was standing outside the passenger side of her Toyota Tacoma, holding the door open and leaning in, trying to coax Trenton out. She paused, turning to see us all staring at them. She walked up to Thomas and then hugged him, closing her eyes. I glanced at Liis. Olive was standing behind her, still holding Stella. It wasn't hard to understand their strange predicament, but for fuck's sake, I'd expect Camille to show some restraint.

  "Okay," I said, approaching them. I pushed Thomas back, and he looked relieved. "You owe us a better explanation. You owe us an apology. All of you," I said, pointing at Travis, Abby, Liis, and the agents.

  Thomas gestured to his colleagues. "Could you give us a minute?"

  "Sir," Wren began.

  "Please," Thomas said. It wasn't a request, and the agents understood and obeyed.

  Camille tucked her silver hair behind her ear. "He's ... It took me a long time to talk him into coming here. The only reason he agreed was so that we could check on Dad."

  Thomas nodded, and Travis brought Jim forward. Trenton stepped out of the truck and walked over, trying his best not to look at anyone else but his father.

  "You okay?" Trenton said.

  Jim reached out to Trenton. Once he got a good grip on his shirt, he yanked him in for a hug. "You stop this. He's your brother. You may not understand why he did what he did, but you don't have to. That's not what's important." He released Trenton and looked around at his family. "What's important is that you have each other. I've said it a hundred damn times. Together, you boys are capable of anything. But you can't let those bastards tear us apart. That's what they tried to do with guns. Don't let 'em do it with lies."

  Trenton couldn't bring his gaze up from the ground. Jim hooked his arm around Trenton's neck. "I'm okay, now that I know he's okay. Now, I need to know you're all okay. Hug your brother. Tell him you love him."

  Trenton didn't move.

  "Now, goddamnit," Jim commanded.

  Trenton blinked, and then his eyes trailed up from the ground to Thomas.

  "I'm truly sorry," Thomas said, his eyes glossing over. "You have to know I would never purposely hurt any of you. I had to take a bullet and leave my newborn daughter for five weeks to keep everyone safe, and by God, I did it. Because I love you. I'm sorry I got into this. If I could go back and change it, I would."

  Trenton stared at his brother for a while and then looked at Travis.

  "Trent," Travis said, shaking his head. He held out his hands. "I'm sorry, man. If we had another choice, I woulda taken it."

  Trenton stumbled a few steps and then hugged his brothers. The twins joined in, too. A tear toppled over Jim's cheek, and the wives were a blubbering mess. An arm shot out from the huddle and grabbed Shepley, pulling him in, too. I covered my mouth, half crying and half laughing.

  In the next moment, one of the brothers grunted, and Thomas flew out from the group holding his midsection. Travis and the twins separated, and Trenton went for Thomas.

  "No!" Camille cried. "Trenton, stop!"

  "That's your one," Thomas said, dodging a second swing from Trenton.

  The twins looked at each other and smiled, flanking Thomas and attacking. Travis jumped in to fend off the twins from his oldest brother, and the once-hugging pile of Maddox boys was now swinging and bleeding with smiles on their faces.

  "Oh! Lord!" Deana said, looking away.

  Shepley held up his hands, trying to make them stop while ducking swings and dodging fists.

  "Stop!" Ellie screamed.

  "Taylor! Stop it!" Falyn said.

  Taylor looked at his wife for half a second, only to get nailed by Travis in the jaw.

  Falyn cupped her hand over her mouth, and Abby shook her head in disbelief. "You're idiots," Abby grumbled.

  Tyler swung and hit Travis square in the mouth, and blood spattered Abby from forehead to waist. She simultaneously jumped, closed her eyes, and held her hands up, her fingers splayed.

  Travis looked at Tyler. "That's your one." He licked the blood off his lip, unbuttoned his shirt, and handed it to his wife. "Just like old times."

  I rolled my eyes. "Oh, gross."

  The brothers finally slowed, standing with their hands on their hips, panting.

  Jim shook his head, and Abby grinned, wiping the blood from her face. "Oh, those Maddox boys."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  THOMAS

  ONE SIDE OF MY BUTTON-DOWN had been untucked during the brawl, so I pulled up the bottom hem and wiped the blood from my knuckles before reaching for my dad. I cupped his cheeks and looked into his eyes. He'd been crying happy tears since I'd walked into the house, and now, we were standing on the front lawn.

  My brothers and I were covered in blood, dirt, and grass stains like when we were kids, playing outside and either fighting someone else
or one another.

  "I'm sorry I put you through that," I said.

  Dad puffed out a breath. "You don't owe me an apology, son. You did what you thought was the best for the family." He put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm just glad you're home."

  I brought him in for a hug, surprised at how much weight he'd lost since the last time I'd seen him. He coughed and then wheezed, letting me go to hold his fist to his mouth.

  "Maddox," Val said, rushing toward me. "Headquarters just called. They found Lena. She's dead."

  "What?" Abby shrieked. Tears spilled over her cheeks, and she grabbed Travis's shirt. "Our Lena?" She let him go and took a step back.

  Travis held his wife. "She was undercover," he said, numb. "It happens."

  "It happens?" she seethed. "She's dead, Travis! What happened?" Abby's eyes danced while she put together what information she had. "Her full name. Cocolina," she whispered. She glared at Travis, her eyes wild. "Lena is Coco? The one you said the other day you'd lost her location?"

  "We needed intel," Travis said, still processing the news. He looked at Val. "Did she go quickly?"

  "Blunt force trauma and a gunshot wound to the head," Val said. She peeked at Abby and then continued, addressing only me. "We have reason to believe it was Chiara."

  "Chiara is Mrs. Carlisi's bodyguard, right? Gi ... Giada's?" Abby asked. "Why would you send her to the Carlisis, Travis?"

  Travis's expression sagged. "It was her new assignment."

  "You married her off to that monster?" Abby cried.

  Travis looked at me, desperate. I nodded, and he spoke. "Her assignment was to gain the attention of Angelo Carlisi and to infiltrate the family. That's how we knew we would be safe once Thomas got home. She's been keeping tabs on them."

  Abby's mouth hung open. "Lena was his new wife? Are you insane? He's an animal!"

  "Was an animal," I said. "He's dead."

  Abby jerked away from Travis, and he reached for her, but she pulled away again. Travis sighed. "She was his type, Abby. She spoke the language. She was the one."

  "Well, now she's dead," Abby groaned. She looked down and away, unable to look Travis in the eyes.

  "Did you not hear me?" Val snapped. "Giada and Chiara have been spotted in Eakins. Everyone needs to get inside."

  I nodded. "Let's go. Everyone in--"

  Dad narrowed his eyes, looking at the road, and then he lunged for me. "Everyone down!"

  A slew of bullets pelted the front of the house, the vehicles, shattering the windows. Wren was already outside, aiming his handgun at the black Lincoln passing by. Hyde stood next to him, emptying her semi-automatic pistol's magazine before kneeling down to reload.

  I scanned the yard, seeing my family on the ground. "Everyone all right?" I yelled. I looked at Dad, and he nodded. I patted him on the shoulder. "Once a cop ..."

  "Always a cop," Dad grunted, pushing himself up off the ground.

  Stella began to wail, and Liis shrieked. "Olive?" Liis peeled our daughter from the pocket Olive had made between her body and the ground.

  Falyn screamed, and rushed over, falling to her knees and grabbing at Olive's limp body. "Olive?"

  One side of Stella's face and body was drenched from the crimson pool she'd been lying in on the ground. I reached down to touch Olive's neck to feel a weak pulse, growing more faint with every passing second. I held my wife and daughter close, glancing back at Val and Wren, who were on alert.

  "Ew?" Trenton said, crawling over.

  "Is Stella okay?" Olive whispered.

  "Of course, she's okay, baby, you saved her," Trenton said. "That's what Maddoxes do."

  Olive managed a small smile and then her face relaxed as if she fell asleep.

  Falyn shook her. "Olive?" she cried.

  Trenton sat back on his knees, touching his palm to his forehead. He looked up at me, and when I shook my head, he fell forward, holding Olive's ankles. "Oh, God, no. Please no. Please no!"

  Camille sat next to Trenton, tears streaming down her face. She touched his back, not knowing what else to do.

  "Someone call a fucking ambulance!" Falyn screamed. "Why are you just standing there? Do something!"

  "She's gone," Liis said, sniffing.

  Taylor sat behind Falyn, holding his wife while she rocked Olive and brushed back her daughter's stained hair. She let out a combination of a groan, growl, and scream, a sound of utter rage and devastation, one I was sure only a mother who had lost a child could make.

  Ellie covered her mouth and then ran inside. Tyler followed her.

  I gestured to Val. "Check on the kids."

  Val nodded and jumped over the stairs to the porch, yanked open the door, and ran inside.

  "Everyone inside!" Wren called. "They're coming back!"

  Liis ran in with Stella, bringing Abby with her.

  "Travis!" Abby called, but he stood next to me, pulling out his sidearm and getting in position.

  "No!" Falyn wailed when Taylor tried to pull her away. "No!" Taylor struggled to pick up his wife and Olive's lifeless body, attempting to carry them both inside.

  "Leave her," I commanded.

  "Fuck you!" Falyn spat.

  "I'll stay," Trenton said, looking down at his best friend.

  Camille nodded, holding Trenton's hand and then Olive's, closing her eyes, pressing fresh tears down her face.

  Taylor finally pulled Falyn away, wrestling her inside as she kicked and flailed, reaching for her daughter.

  The Lincoln raced toward us. Chiara sat in the passenger seat, aiming a semi-automatic rifle. Vittoria, now a Carlisi widow, was behind the wheel. As the car came closer, I reached for my sidearm, but it was gone. Dad stepped out in front of me, holding up my gun and aiming it at the Lincoln.

  "Dad, get down!" I yelled just as Chiara squeezed the trigger.

  Bullets sprayed the yard and house again, but Dad continued to walk forward, shooting at the Lincoln once, twice, and a third time. One of his bullets hit the tire, and the Lincoln swerved, hit the drainage ditch, and cartwheeled into a boat and truck in the neighbor's yard across the street. The engine caught fire, and we stood, watching it burn.

  Dad fell to his knees, and Travis and I yelled his name at the same time. As the fire burned in the background, we helped our Dad to the ground. I pressed my hands against the red circles growing larger than my palms and spreading across his shirt. He'd been hit twice in the chest, once in the abdomen.

  My gaze met Travis's. He looked as panicked as I felt.

  The rest of the family filtered outside, spread out and watching the chaos in disbelief. Trenton crawled over to Dad, and I realized he'd been shot in the calf. Falyn fell on her knees beside Olive, cradling her once again in her arms, her cries piercing the air as she suffered unbearable pain. Camille sobbed next to Trenton, Travis, and I. The twins came outside and rushed over.

  Val was on the radio reporting the scene and requesting ambulances and the fire department. Hyde ran to the Lincoln, but the heat forced her back. She ran into the neighbor's home to see if anyone had been hurt and soon came outside waving both arms, signaling the house was clear.

  "The ambulance is coming, Dad, hang in there," I choked out.

  Dad smiled. "I'm pretty tired. And I'd really like to see your mom."

  Travis let out a breath, his bottom lip trembling. Trenton used the heels of his hands to wipe his eyes, and the twins stood by, quietly crying.

  Dad reached up to touch my cheek. "Stay together. Love one another. I mean it, damn it."

  One side of my mouth curled up, and I felt a hot tear slide over my mouth and down to my jawline. "We love you, Dad."

  "We love you," Travis said.

  "Love you," Trenton whimpered.

  "We love you," the twins said in unison.

  "I love you," Camille cried.

  "Thank you for being our dad," Abby said, managing a smile.

  His gaze drifted to each of us, and then he whispered, "My heart is full." A single tear formed in the
corner of Dad's eye, and fell away, running down his temple and pooling in his ear. He exhaled for the last time, and he stared into oblivion.

  The summer breeze carried the plume of black smoke drifting up from the Carlisi's Lincoln into the yard, filling the neighborhood. Sirens wailed, matching the pitch of Falyn's cries, but the roar of the fire stifled both. The heat danced from the flames, creating waves in the air like an afternoon under the desert sun. It looked more like a war zone than the site of my childhood home, the grass soaking up the blood of the old and young.

  Camille tore her shirt and tied it around Trenton's leg, but he barely noticed, holding Dad's hand to his lips. "Is he gone?"

  I looked down, coughing out a sob, and my brothers did the same. My bloody fingers pressed against Dad's wrist, the absence of his pulse the only stillness amid the chaos surrounding us. He was gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  JIM

  "JIM?" DIANE CALLED FROM THE KITCHEN. She was holding open the door of the icebox, frowning and looking beautiful in a black sweater and brown suede skirt with big, black buttons. "I think ... I think we're going to have to call a repairman."

  I couldn't help but smile, watching the two lines between her brows deepen. "What makes you say that, love?"

  "Well, it's not that cold, and ..." She opened the milk, took a sniff, and her face twisted. "Yep. Spoiled."

  I chuckled.

  "It's not funny! We just bought this house. How are we going to afford a repairman? What if he says we'll need a new icebox?"

  "Then I'll work extra hours, and we'll buy a new icebox."

  She closed the door and sighed, perching her hand on her hip. "James," she said. She only called me that when she was grumpy with me. "You can't just work extra hours and buy a new icebox. They're at least two fifty, and..."

  "Honey," I said, walking across the kitchen to take her into my arms. "I'll take care of it."

  "Good, because there's something else."

  I raised an eyebrow.

  "I'm pregnant."

  I took her in my arms, squeezing tight, probably too tight, feeling happy tears well up in my eyes.

  "Is that okay?" she asked close to my ear.

  I let her go, chuckling and wiping my eye. "Is it okay? Like we can take it back?"

  She jutted out her bottom lip.

  "Mrs. Maddox," I said, slowly shaking my head. "A baby is way better than a busted icebox."