Ends Here

  “You look beautiful, Mia Pia,” she whispered, silently hoping the term of endearment would stir a memory inside of me.

  It didn’t.

  My whole family did this, more times than I cared to count. Thinking it would jolt my memories free from the black hole in my brain. All it did was the exact opposite, making me feel more frustrated and alone.

  “Thank you,” I simply stated, turning my face away to avoid the disappointment in her eyes.

  “No matter what. I’m always here for you. Please tell me you know that, sweetie?”

  I nodded, knowing she was being sincere.

  She spun me to face her, taking hold of my chin to make me look at her. “You don’t have to do this. No one expects you to be there if you can’t, Mia. The last thing we want is to cause you any more distress.”

  “If that were the case, all of you would have to stop looking at me or talking to me,” I blurted, regretting my words immediately. Causing her to jerk back and let go. “I’m sorry, Momma, that wasn’t fair.”

  “I know...” she paused taking a deep breath, her eyes welling up with tears. “It’s only been a week since you were discharged from the hospital. This whole situation is new for all of us. We are learning together how to cope. I look at you and see my daughter, the Mia I remember... the happy little spitfire, the one I know will come back to us. It’s just going to take some time. I’m doing the best I can as your mother to protect you, help you get over this hurdle life pushed in your path. We need to take this one day at a time, sweetheart. I’m just so thankful you’re home.” She pulled me into a tight hug. “I love you, baby. I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too.”

  She whispered all sorts of reassuring things to me before we left my bedroom together. I barely remember any of it, choosing to tune her out. It was easier than pretending to be someone I no longer was. My dad was waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs, taking me into his arms when we reached him. Holding onto me for dear life before pulling away and kissing my cheek. Not saying a word as he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. He escorted me out to the town car, never once letting go of my hand as if he was terrified I’d disappear again.

  I blankly stared out the window the entire drive, watching cars blur by. The rain coming down from the heavens, mimicking the tears I knew I’d shed. It felt like all I did was blink and I was walking up to my baby’s closed casket at the front of the church. Feeling random arms wrapping me in their embrace, offering condolences I didn’t want to hear. While tears streamed down their faces, breaking down, bringing me right along with them. I couldn’t tell if I was mourning the death of the baby I knew nothing about, or if it was just the whole situation becoming too much for my emotions to overcome.

  It was one thing right after the other.

  I blinked a few more times, going through the motions when I suddenly felt the cool wood of the pew hit my skin as I sat between Mason and Bo for the service. My parents’ sat to our right, my mom breaking down in my dad’s arms. My aunts, uncles, and cousins filled the rows behind us.

  I looked around noticing some unfamiliar faces scattered throughout the church. I assumed they were extended family or close friends of my parents’. I just didn’t recognize them. My eyes continued to roam while the priest went on about the baby going up to the good Lord. Reading verse after verse from his Bible, muffling the sounds of the sobs echoing off the vaulted ceiling.

  I continued looking around the open space when a woman dressed in all black, sitting in the last pew on the opposite side of the church, caught my attention. She was the furthest away from us as if she was trying to blend in or hide. Sitting by herself with what looked like a rosary in her grasp, her head bowed like she was deep in prayer. At one point she looked over at me with tears streaming down her face, giving me a slight smile. I wasn’t sure who she was, but something about her presence gave me a strange sense of comfort. I made a mental note to ask my mom who she was after the funeral.

  For most of the service I sat there in a trance-like state, feeling as though my entire family’s eyes were focused solely on me.

  Waiting for I don’t know what to happen.

  My parents’ kept the service small, not wanting to overwhelm me. They had yet to understand that anything and everything overwhelmed me, no matter how big or small. During one of the readings the priest quoted Helen Keller, “The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart.” For some reason, his words pulled at my core and brought tears to my eyes. I needed to get some air. I was suffocating in a sea of everyone else’s despair, about to drown in my own. I excused myself to use the restroom, holding back the tears that threatened at the surface. Surprised when no one followed me out, but grateful nonetheless.

  I made my way outside instead, craving to feel the sunshine on my face and the fresh air in my lungs. It seemed to be the only things that calmed me these days.

  I pushed through the heavy wooden doors, hearing a loud thud on the other side. Followed by a man’s voice, rasping, “Oh, shit.”

  Blocking out the sun with the back of my hand, I immediately looked up, blurting, “I’m so sor—” His eyes bared into mine, rendering me speechless. Locking me in place, I couldn’t move even if I wanted to, and for the first time since seeing yet another unfamiliar face, I didn’t want to.

  His tall, muscular body towered over my small frame, looking down at me with the same longing in his solemn expression that my family wore every day. There was something about him, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from. A magnetic pull I was instantly drawn to.

  As if he could read my mind, he murmured, “Mia...” just loud enough for me to hear.

  I cocked my head to the side, narrowing my eyes, feeling as though I knew him. It evidently wasn’t from him knowing who I was.

  It was from something deeper.

  More meaningful.

  A connection I couldn’t explain was happening. It was as though we had a link that was severed and one look was all it took to start mending it. The familiarity in his intense gaze made me weak in the knees. I hoped he didn’t notice, although he seemed like the type of guy who would notice everything. Neither one of us said a word, but it didn’t matter. Our eyes spoke volumes on their own.

  “Yeah... that’s me,” I nervously stated, stepping further outside, wiping away the one tear that had escaped from my eye. Allowing the door to shut behind me. “I umm... I don’t know... I mean... I don’t remember who you...” I loudly sighed, giving up. Showing him I was getting frustrated. “I don’t have the best memory these days.”

  He smiled, chuckling, “I know, pretty girl.” Setting me at ease.

  I genuinely smiled back for what felt like the first time since I’d woken up in the hospital. Maybe it was the light blue shade in his eyes that was so damn enticing, or his smile that lured me right in. He was extremely handsome in that rugged, hard edge kind of way.

  I took in his black suit, questioning, “Are you here for the funeral?”

  His smile abruptly faded, making my stomach drop right along with it. Thinking I had just said something wrong once again. I hated that feeling. Especially knowing I was the reason for the hasty look that pushed away his beautiful features. Replacing them with the same pained expression I seem to cause everyone anytime I open my mouth.

  He peered down at the ground, kicking the dirt around with his shoes like he was contemplating what to say next. Finally, he faintly nodded his head. Silently answering my question, but he still didn’t look me in the eyes.

  “You’re not like my brother from another mother, right? Because I guess I already have one of those,” I shyly laughed, trying to lighten the mood again. Hoping it would work.

  He grinned, glancing back up at me through the slits of his eyes with a certain gleam hiding behind them. “I look like someone who could be related to you?”

  My gaze shot to the tattoos taking over his neck, peeking out t
hrough the collar of his black button-down shirt. Continuing down to his hands, quickly realizing his body was probably covered in ink.

  Making my stomach flutter for entirely different reasons.

  I needed to change the subject, so I asked, “What’s your name?” Wanting to know who he was.

  He arched an eyebrow, wavering for a few seconds before he responded with, “Noah. But you used to call me Rebel.”

  “How do we—” The double doors to the church flew open, cutting me off. Both of us came face to face with my parents’ as they walked out of the service, followed by my family. They stopped abruptly when they saw us together. Peering from me to Noah and back to me again, as if their eyes couldn’t settle on one of us for very long.

  Except my father's, his never shifted. They stayed murderously narrowed in on Noah.

  “You little sh—”

  “Lucas!” Mom interrupted in a harsh, demanding tone, grabbing hold of him. Stopping him dead in his tracks from stepping any closer to Noah. “This is not the time, nor the place!”

  “Half-Pint—”

  “Don’t you Half-Pint me! You calm yourself down, now! Unless you want to take it up with me later!”

  My eyes widened, taken aback by my dad’s actions. Confused by the turn in events. Wondering why he wanted to go after Noah in the first place? Where did all this unexpected hostility stem from? I was more in shock by the fact that my dad reluctantly listened to my mom. Causing her to let out a sigh of relief.

  I was about to ask why he was behaving that way. Anxiously needing to know the answers to all the questions that were suddenly plaguing my mind. But the clicking sound of heels came up from behind me, pulling my attention to the same woman who was sitting on the other end of the church. She walked right up and stood beside Noah.

  At least one of my questions was finally revealed, I no longer had to wonder who she was. It was obvious she was his mother, they had the same piercing blue eyes.

  She didn’t waver. “I read in the paper that the service for the baby was being held today. I apologize if our presence has caused you anymore grief, Mr. and Mrs. Ryder,” his mom sincerely expressed in a sad tone, making me even more confused by what the hell was going on. She looked over at me with the same comforting smile her son had shown me minutes ago. “It wasn’t our intention to hurt you either, Mia. I’m sorry if we did.”

  “Not at all,” I reassuringly replied, still completely caught off guard. “I was actually enjoying Noah’s company.”

  “Sweetie, do you remember him?” my mom questioned, bringing our attention to her.

  I hesitantly shook my head no, knowing Noah was staring right at me.

  “It’s alright, Mia,” Noah chimed in. “Just means we gotta make all new memories. That’s if it’s alright with your parents’, of course.”

  Before I could give what he was saying too much thought, his mom added, “That’s why Noah chose to stay outside while I paid respects for the both of us. I wanted to at least be able to say goodbye for him. He didn’t mean any disrespect.”

  “It’s okay, Mrs. Jameson. Noah has a right to be here. You both do,” my mom interjected, pausing to let her words sink in. “You are welcome to come to the burial service, too. We will be heading over to the Oakdale Cemetery over on North Fifteenth Street in a few minutes.” She stepped forward, standing directly in front of Noah. Her face frowned, taking him in for a few seconds before she softly said, “I’m so sorry, Noah. I know you’re hurting. The baby was just as much a part of you as she was of Mia. It wouldn’t be right to keep you from finding your peace as well.”

  I jerked back, my eyes widening. Finding it hard to breathe, feeling as though my chest was caving in on me. “Oh my God...”

  Noah and I locked eyes as if we were the only two people standing there. Everyone else just faded into the background. Out of sight. Out of mind.

  Uncovering the one answer I wanted to know the most all this time.

  It all made sense now. The expression on my family’s faces when they saw us together. The look that was still in my father’s eyes, glaring at him. The way his mom provided me immediate comfort when we were inside of the church.

  Especially, the instant connection I felt with him. The second we laid eyes on each other.

  Every last look.

  Every last feeling.

  Every last emotion he pulled out of me.

  “It’s you...” I finally breathed out, breaking the silence between us. Never realizing I was standing with...

  The father of my baby this entire time.

  “Missing Oak Island native, Mia Ryder, who was found two weeks ago will be laying her newborn baby to rest this Saturday at the Oakdale Cemetery at noon...”

  Now the day had come to lay Madison to rest. At the exact same cemetery where Autumn’s memorial was located. The irony was not fucking lost on me. I hadn’t slept all night, staring at the obituary I held tightly in my goddamn grasp. Spending the entire evening at the clubhouse in the darkness of my room, drowning my fucking regrets in a bottle of Jack. I knew they’d eventually say their final goodbyes to baby girl, but what bothered me the most about that obituary, was that no one knew she had a name.

  Not even her mother.

  I spent all morning telling myself I’d pay my respects to Maddie after the funeral, when everyone was gone. When it was just her and I, but the heart wants what it fucking wants. For hours I battled my own worst enemy inside, wanting to be there for Mia. Needing to be there for Mia, even if she didn’t remember what I meant to her.

  I remembered.

  “Who are you?”

  “Pippin, what do you mean who am I?” I questioned, thinking this couldn’t be fucking happening.

  She weakly shoved her hands onto my chest, trying to push me away. Shaking her head to break free from my hands that were still placed on the sides of her face. “Pippin? Who’s Pippin?”

  Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself pulling up to the cemetery just after one with a new set of fucking demons strapped firmly on my back. Failing miserably at keeping my shit together. I parked my bike as close as possible to where the burial was being held, still trying to stay out of sight, though. The last thing I wanted was to fuck up any more of Mia’s life, but I needed to see her at least.

  It had been too fucking long since I last laid eyes on my girl in her hospital bed, two weeks ago. Picturing nothing but her face as I backed away from her without even putting up a fight. McGraw had kicked me the fuck out of her room, having one of the officer’s escort me out of the hospital, threatening me to stay the fuck away from her.

  Or else.

  I jumped on my bike and left, even though it took everything in me not to haul ass back into her room and make her remember who I was.

  It took McGraw less than a day to call the MC into the police station for questioning, after Mia woke up. I walked in with the club’s lawyer, refusing to answer one goddamn question. That’s what I was paying Leo a fuck load of money for. He was Martinez’s bitch when he was alive, and if he could get him acquitted for all his bullshit, our case should be a breeze. Leo could lie to them all he wanted, but I refused to do it anymore.

  Trust me, McGraw wasn’t fucking thrilled about it, but he was aware I knew the law as much as he did. I had every right to let my lawyer speak for me. Especially, since none of us were under arrest or detained for anything. We were just there as law abiding citizens, doing our part to solve the case in Mia’s disappearance.

  Much to McGraw’s fucking disapproval.

  By the time I made it to the funeral that afternoon, the parking lot was empty. Most of the guests had already left. Only a few remained scattered around, more than likely trying to give Mia some privacy while still trying to be there for her family. Knowing they’d probably need their support. After about five minutes I saw the last guest say their goodbyes. I didn’t see Mason or Bo anywhere, not even her cousins, just her uncles and her Aunt Lily. The paper had mentioned t
here would be a luncheon at the Ryder home after the funeral. I assumed it was where everyone headed, needing to get shit ready for the guests. Knowing it would only make Mia even more unsettled.

  It was blatantly obvious she was hanging on by a very thin fucking thread. Standing out in the rain, staring at the small casket in the ground. She looked so confused and helpless, so overwhelmed and exhausted. So fucking tiny and frail. As if she hadn’t slept since the last time she was in my arms. Laying in my bed at the safe house. Giving me hope that maybe in the back of her mind, in the dark place where she had imprisoned my existence, she might have missed me, too.

  The nights had been the fucking hardest for me. Lying in bed wide awake with nothing but darkness all around me. Yearning to have her in my arms, pressed up against me. Mostly, missing the way I could kiss her whenever I wanted, smelling her addicting fucking scent of vanilla mixed with plain ol’ Mia.

  As much as I tried to stay busy, too consumed with revenge, she was never far from my thoughts. Neither were her words from the night she fucking finished me off.

  “Baby—”

  “Don’t call me that... Who are you? You’re scaring me... Where am I?”

  “Jesus Christ, babe—”

  “Let go of me... I don’t even know you... Get out of here... Now!”

  Those were the last words I heard come out of Mia’s mouth before her mom and McGraw walked back into the hospital room. She calmed down as soon as she saw them, evidently knowing who they were. I stood there in a state of shock, realizing it was just me she didn’t recognize.

  I shook off the memory as I sat on my bike in the rain at the cemetery, watching from afar. Wanting to remember everything about this moment. The way her hair blew in the wind, the way her small frame tried to keep it together. Except, I could physically feel the way she was breaking apart inside. She was no longer the girl with the big, bright smile or the contagious fucking laugh. She was as empty as I was, alone and lost. For the first time since we met, we were now one and the same. Making me hate myself even more for that. Maddie may have been the one they were putting to ground that day, but Mia was already ten feet under.