Read Online The Keepers Book Two of the Holding Kate Series by LaDonna Cole - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: LaDonna Cole
Tags: Science-Fiction, adventure, Romance, Fantasy, YA), Action, Time travel, Sci-Fi, Twilight, Young Adult, Suzanne Collins, Harry Potter, ya fantasy, Hunger Games, Relationships, teen relationships, teen marriage, Divergent, jk rowling, Veronica Roth, troubled teens, stephanie meyer, ya novels, young adult novels
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Kate needed me. Should I make a scene, storm back in there and claim my wife out of Trip’s possessive arms? No, not the time to do that, Kate seemed beyond the ability to recognize who held her. The way she clung to him reminded me of our last moments together. She had been desperate for me to stay, but put on a brave face.
What would happen if she came back to reality and found me missing? That made my decision. I opened the door and quietly stole into the room. The family lined up to go into the service. I slipped into line beside Kate and took her hand. Trip reluctantly released her but she grabbed at his hand, demanding he come with her.
She slowly scanned up to my face and a tiny flash of recognition registered before she returned to the world of ghosts and shadows. We walked into the large cathedral from a side door and four caskets lined up side by side sent a jolt through me. Flowers covered every space of wall and floor around them. My heart sank. Kate’s trembling progressed to a shudder and her legs gave way. Trip and I both held on tightly. Kate’s father, lost in his own grief, stared at the small silver casket.
Jimmy. Kate’s little brother.
“No,” Kate whispered. “No.” Her body wracked with anguish. Trip quickly wiped tears from his face, and I glanced away.
My jump family sat midway in the auditorium. Sorrow elongated their faces. We settled into the pew. Trip and I sat on either side of Kate. Her father gave me a scathing look, then drew a path from Kate’s hand clinging to mine to Kate’s other hand wrapped in Trip’s large paw.
He looked back up as the minister took the podium.
A marathon of heart wrenching moments, the service progressed. The line-up of caskets raked through the mind, violating all sense of rightness. A very present assault to the senses of the violence of loss they represented. Four loved ones gone in a moment. Wrong. So very wrong.
My own parents died that way, suddenly. I’d flown to Italy to attend their funeral two years ago. They were practically strangers to me, though. We weren’t close. A nanny and staff raised me while they jetted around the world. So I couldn’t imagine how Kate felt. She, her mom, and brother were very tight. Grammy and Pops were iconic in her life.
I knew them intimately, though we had never met. Kate talked about them extensively in our pink clouds. She adored little Jimmy, felt protective of her mom, and cherished by her grandparents. Scanning the row of caskets, the hideous representation of the grief she bore, I determined to get her the best therapist and mental health care available. We were going to get through this. Together.
When the service ended, the funeral director opened the caskets and allowed the guests to walk by to view the bodies. One casket remained closed, Kate’s grandfather, his body too mangled to make viewable.
The funeral guests filed by the caskets, then out, and they closed the doors. Only family and Trip remained.
Kate’s dad stood up and approached me. “We will talk,” he growled. He took the elbow of his new wife, and they approached the smallest casket. Kate turned a confused expression to me, and I kissed her brow. We started at the other end with Kate shakily supported between us. Kate stopped at her grandfather’s casket and placed her cheek on the cool bronze metal.
“Pops? Pops?” she whimpered and ran her hands along the smooth surface. “Pops.” Her voice mutated on the last word. It deepened and yawned out of her, dredging raw sorrow up into her throat.
My soul ripped out of me to hear her so distraught. I would have done anything to trade places with her to take her agony into myself and hide it from her. I kept a hand on her arm and another around her waist, willing her pain to move into me.
We inched to the open casket of her grandmother. Kate lost it when she saw her. “Grammy, oh no.” Her knees buckled, and Trip and I steadied her. She calmed enough to lean forward over
What would happen if she came back to reality and found me missing? That made my decision. I opened the door and quietly stole into the room. The family lined up to go into the service. I slipped into line beside Kate and took her hand. Trip reluctantly released her but she grabbed at his hand, demanding he come with her.
She slowly scanned up to my face and a tiny flash of recognition registered before she returned to the world of ghosts and shadows. We walked into the large cathedral from a side door and four caskets lined up side by side sent a jolt through me. Flowers covered every space of wall and floor around them. My heart sank. Kate’s trembling progressed to a shudder and her legs gave way. Trip and I both held on tightly. Kate’s father, lost in his own grief, stared at the small silver casket.
Jimmy. Kate’s little brother.
“No,” Kate whispered. “No.” Her body wracked with anguish. Trip quickly wiped tears from his face, and I glanced away.
My jump family sat midway in the auditorium. Sorrow elongated their faces. We settled into the pew. Trip and I sat on either side of Kate. Her father gave me a scathing look, then drew a path from Kate’s hand clinging to mine to Kate’s other hand wrapped in Trip’s large paw.
He looked back up as the minister took the podium.
A marathon of heart wrenching moments, the service progressed. The line-up of caskets raked through the mind, violating all sense of rightness. A very present assault to the senses of the violence of loss they represented. Four loved ones gone in a moment. Wrong. So very wrong.
My own parents died that way, suddenly. I’d flown to Italy to attend their funeral two years ago. They were practically strangers to me, though. We weren’t close. A nanny and staff raised me while they jetted around the world. So I couldn’t imagine how Kate felt. She, her mom, and brother were very tight. Grammy and Pops were iconic in her life.
I knew them intimately, though we had never met. Kate talked about them extensively in our pink clouds. She adored little Jimmy, felt protective of her mom, and cherished by her grandparents. Scanning the row of caskets, the hideous representation of the grief she bore, I determined to get her the best therapist and mental health care available. We were going to get through this. Together.
When the service ended, the funeral director opened the caskets and allowed the guests to walk by to view the bodies. One casket remained closed, Kate’s grandfather, his body too mangled to make viewable.
The funeral guests filed by the caskets, then out, and they closed the doors. Only family and Trip remained.
Kate’s dad stood up and approached me. “We will talk,” he growled. He took the elbow of his new wife, and they approached the smallest casket. Kate turned a confused expression to me, and I kissed her brow. We started at the other end with Kate shakily supported between us. Kate stopped at her grandfather’s casket and placed her cheek on the cool bronze metal.
“Pops? Pops?” she whimpered and ran her hands along the smooth surface. “Pops.” Her voice mutated on the last word. It deepened and yawned out of her, dredging raw sorrow up into her throat.
My soul ripped out of me to hear her so distraught. I would have done anything to trade places with her to take her agony into myself and hide it from her. I kept a hand on her arm and another around her waist, willing her pain to move into me.
We inched to the open casket of her grandmother. Kate lost it when she saw her. “Grammy, oh no.” Her knees buckled, and Trip and I steadied her. She calmed enough to lean forward over
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