feeling.
But I couldn’t muster more than pity.
“We’re here today to celebrate the life of Jackson Hill,” the pastor said, opening a small booklet.
Landon muttered something under his breath. I wasn’t not sure what, but I could fill in the blanks. There was no way he wanted to celebrate anything about his father.
“Jackson was a loving husband, a doting father, and a long time member of the Orting Community.”
A muscle ticked in Landon’s jaw, and his grip on my knee tightened.
“His wife, Mrs. Melinda Hill, is here to give his eulogy.”
I raised a brow. I thought of his mother as meek, too quiet to stand in front of a crowd and speak. Where the pastor was in his comfort zone, she seemed to shrink as she mounted the steps, stood behind the podium.
But then she spread out a sheet of paper and stood tall.
“Thank you all for joining me here today. My husband would be grateful.”
I was frozen, staring at her and waiting for an inevitable train wreck. I could barely breathe, couldn’t feel anything but Landon’s strong grip on my knee.
“Jackson was taken from us much too early, and will be dearly missed, by myself, his son, and the men he worked with at the mill.”
I scanned the crowd, watching a group of men nodding. They must’ve been his coworkers.
“Jackson was the sort of man you could always count on. He was there through thick and thin, providing for his family. After nearly thirty years at WaPac, he still only missed a handful of days. That was Jackson, in a nutshell. Reliable. Honest. The kind of guy who would show up to change your flat tire in the rain, and ask for nothing in return.”
“Bullshit.”
It took me a minute to realize it was Landon who spoke.
The room fell silent, his mom’s eyes growing wide.
Landon stood, but I was rooted to the seat.
“This is all bullshit.”
A guy two pews back stands. “It’s not bullshit. He did that. He showed up with a jack and helped me change my flat.”
Landon whirled around, and if not for me grabbing his arm, standing up next to him, he might’ve closed the distance between the two of them and gotten in the guy’s face.
“Yeah? And then what? Let me guess. You guys went out for a beer. Maybe seven. And then he drove home drunk.”
“Landon,” I whispered.
“And then he got home, and he was in a mood, and if he wanted to smack you or me—“
“Landon! That’s enough,” his mother said. “You don’t need to make trouble.”
“Make trouble? You’re in denial. That’s not a Eulogy on that paper, that’s a fairy tale.”
“Landon, shut up,” Matt muttered, from the pew behind us. “You’re just making it worse.”
“Shut up?” Landon said, raising his voice and turning on his best friend. “You know damn well what kind of man my father was. He was a fucking asshole and we’re all here acting like the world’s not a better place without him.”
“Seriously,” Matt said, standing. He implored Landon with his eyes. “Just shut up.”
“Matt,” I snapped. “This is not your fight.”
“And it’s yours?” he said, pointedly glancing down at where my hand still rested on Landon’s elbow.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I said.
“Don’t deny what you’re trying to pull,” Matt said.
“Deny? You want to talk about denial?”
He narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth to retort but pausing. As if he realized what I was digging at.
But now my fury had built to an explosion. Matt, high and mighty, once again judging his best friend and everyone else instead of looking in the mirror for once. I spoke again, loudly. “How about the fact that you have fucking cancer, and you haven’t told me or Dad?”
Matt went pale, gripping the pew and staring at me as the room fell silent.
“Fuck you,” Matt said, as he moved toward the aisle. “You two deserve each other.”
And then he was gone, and all that was left was the silence.
END OF BOOK 4
Part V
Filthy Rage (Second Chance With My Brother's Best Friend, Book Five) by Paige North
Chapter 1
Landon’s shoulders were stiff, his hands balled up as he watched my brother stalk out. Matt shook his head, refusing to look back as he stormed away, as if he couldn’t believe what I’d just done to him.
I’d just spilled his secret, the fact that he had cancer, in public. Yelled it at the top of my lungs, essentially.
My heart climbed up my throat but I couldn’t place the emotions swirling in my chest.