Chapter 122 Say It Sooner

Chapter 122 Say It Sooner
A/N: Quick warning, this is going to be an emotional chapter (or as emotional as I can make it anyway), so if you don’t do well with character deaths, you should probably skip the eulogy scene. But that’s besides the point…
I have some good news!
I decided to create a Facebook account where I can keep tabs with my readers. Nothing much will be happening there to be honest, but announcements of new books, story ideas and platforms I’m publishing on will be made there. As you all know, not all my books are available in a single place, so this would help my loyal readers be able to find my books whenever and wherever.
Page name is Author Aria. Feel free to check it out. (I’m open to DMs as well).
Now back to it!
~
Eli stands near the top of the grand staircase, his thumb tapping against the edge of his phone as the morning sun washes over the marble floors of the Reid estate. Staff members are moving quietly below, carrying wreaths of crushed lilies into waiting vehicles. The air smells of cut stems and expensive arrangements, but Eli’s chest is too tight to register the floral scent.
He glances down at the screen in his palm. The timer is running down.
The sound of soft footsteps against the floor make him lock the screen and slip the burner into his inner jacket pocket. He turns to find Lucia stepping out of her dressing room, dressed in a black tailored coat that makes her look remarkably beautiful despite the day. Her eyes are dark, heavy with the quiet grief she has been carrying since Zeke died.
“You okay?” she asks the second time, her hand finding his arm.
“Fine,” he says. “Just tired.”
Lucia narrows her eyes slightly. “You’re checking your phone every ninety seconds. If Marcus is giving you trouble–”
“Marcus is fine,” Eli cuts in, offering a small, reassuring smile that barely reaches his eyes. “Don’t worry about it today, Lucia. Focus on your speech.”
She hesitates, searching his face for another second, before giving a tight nod. Eli steps back, letting her head toward the front foyer to meet her parents.
His phone sits heavy in his jacket pocket, and every few minutes his hand drifts toward it without his permission, checking for a message that hasn’t come yet, and each time he catches himself doing it he has to force his attention back to the task in front of him… the chairs, the flowers, the closed casket being positioned at the front of the garden with a care that makes his chest tighten.
The moment she disappears down the stairs, Eli slips down the corridor, avoiding the main security cameras, and steps  behind the garage.
He pulls the burner phone from his pocket and presses it to his ear.
“They’re all going to be gone,” Eli says softly into the speaker.
A long pause as the voice on the other end of the receiver sounds.
“Yea. The guard’s funeral,” Eli continues. “The entire family will be there while the main security detail will be at the chapel downtown for two hours.”
Another beat of silence over the line.
“Yes,” Eli says into the receiver, watching through the archway as Lucia steps into the back passenger seat of the lead armored sedan beside her father. “The house should be empty.”
He ends the call without waiting for a reply, slides the phone back into his jacket, and walks out to join the tailing security vehicle.
The service begins at noon, the garden filled with rows of dark clothing, faces Elias half recognizes from months of Zeke’s presence at the edges of every important moment this family has survived.
Eli sits two rows behind the Reid family, his hands resting on his knees, his eyes fixed on the back of Lucia’s head as he tries to breathe through the guilt of what he just set in motion.
When Lucia’s name is called, she stands up. She catches Eli’s eye for a brief second as she steps into the aisle. Eli holds her gaze, feeling the subtle tremor in her eyes before she looks away and walks up the steps to the podium.
She adjusts the microphone, and the quiet murmur in the sanctuary dies down completely.
“Zeke would have absolutely hated this.” Lucia looks out over the rows of black clothing, the flowers, the bowed heads. “Seriously. Look at all of you sitting here dressed in head-to-toe black, crying into handkerchiefs, acting as though he isn’t going to walk through those double doors back there in about five minutes, roll his sleeves up, look around at all of us, and tell someone to stand up straighter.”
A quiet ripple of laughter moves through the sanctuary. Lucia smiles a little.
“I can actually hear him complaining about the flowers,” she continues as the laughter softens, shaking her head faintly. “Too many lilies… he’d say they’re impractical. He’d probably complain about the chairs too.”
Her fingers tighten around the edges of the podium.
“I spent five years calling Zeke my bodyguard.” She looks down as the room goes quiet. “That feels strange to say now. I mean, he was my bodyguard… of course he was. He trained me. Followed me around. Told me what I was doing wrong. Which, according to him, was apparently everything.”
Another faint laugh ripples through the crowd.
“But he was also…” Lucia stops. Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Eli watches her lower her eyes for a second, trying to collect herself. “He was also the person I trusted most in the world.”
The silence that follows is heavier.
“And I don’t think I ever told him that.” Her voice has changed now. Softer. “I think that’s one of the cruelest things about losing someone. You don’t just lose the person. You lose every version of the future where you finally say all the things you thought you had more time to say.” Lucia swallows. “I always thought there would be tomorrow. Tomorrow, I’d tell him how grateful I was. Tomorrow, I’d tell him that I knew he was more than just someone my father hired to follow me around. Tomorrow, I’d tell him that when everything else in my life felt like it was falling apart, I knew Zeke would still answer the phone. And then one day, there isn’t a tomorrow anymore.”
The sanctuary is completely silent now. She takes a breath and looks toward the casket, then back at the crowd.
“Jacob.” She turns and her eyes find the twelve-year-old boy sitting in the third row. His handkerchief is crushed tightly in his hands. “Your uncle was one of the bravest people I have ever known.”
Jacob begins crying before she even finishes the sentence.
“And I know people are going to tell you that for the rest of your life,” she continues, wiping quickly beneath one eye. “They’re going to tell you he was brave. They’re going to tell you he was strong. They’re going to tell you he died a hero.”
Her voice is fully trembling now and it takes every ounce of willpower that Elias owns now to climb up that podium and take her in his arms.
“And all of that is true,” Lucia continues, looking directly at the child. “But I hope they also tell you that he was funny. And stubborn. And completely impossible when he thought he was right.”
She chuckles a small wet laugh through her tears.
“I hope they tell you that he cared too much and pretended he didn’t. I hope they tell you that he would complain about people he loved and then spend the rest of the day making sure they were safe.”
Jacob presses his face against his mother’s shoulder.
“Because he wasn’t only a hero, Jacob. He was your uncle.” Tears are streaming freely down her face now. “A-and he was my family.”
She turns toward the casket and for the first time, she stops speaking to the room.
“Zeke, remember when you told me that if I needed you, I could just call?” The words seem to cost her something as her face crumples completely. “Well… I n-need you. God, I need you so much and y-you’re not here.”
The first sob escapes before she can stop it and she presses a hand over her mouth to muffle it. Eli’s entire body tenses in his seat.
“I keep thinking I’m going to see you tomorrow,” she continues even as her shoulders shake. “I keep thinking I’m going to turn around and you’re going to be standing there, telling me to pay attention or stop doing something stupid or get in the car because Dad is waiting.” She wipes her face. “And I know you’re not. I know that. But I don’t know how to make the part of me that keeps looking for you understand.”
By now, Lucia is freely crying, not even trying to hide it anymore.
“I don’t know how to stop needing you.” She looks at the casket. “And I think I’m terrified that I’ll spend the rest of my life learning how.”
Then she turns back toward the room. Half the garden is openly crying now, Elias included, something in his chest cracking open in a way he wasn’t fully braced for.
“And Jacob?” The boy looks up. Lucia takes a breath. “I promise you, for as long as I have breath in my body, your uncle will be remembered exactly the way he deserves to be. As the man who loved people enough to stand between them and danger. And as the man who never once made me feel like I had to face it alone.”
She turns towards away from the crowd.
“Thank you, Zeke.” A tear slips down her cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”
The silence is unbearable. Lucia steps away from the podium and walks toward the casket slowly. When she reaches it, she places one trembling hand against the polished wood.
For several seconds, she says nothing. Then she leans forward and places a gentle kiss to the coffin.
“One last job, Zeke,” she whispers with her eyes closed, her hand lingering for a moment before she pulls away and steps back down into the aisle.
She sits beside Eli, her shoulders tight, the emotional drain of the speech visible in the faint shadow beneath her eyes. Eli reaches over under the pew, takes her hand and holds it tightly in his lap as the closing organ notes begin to play.
As the congregation stands to let the pallbearers pass, Eli’s phone vibrates against his hip. He pulls the device out, keeping it low against his thigh, and reads the message.
Eli’s breath stops in his throat. The color completely drains from his face, his jaw locking tight as he stares at the message.
Lucia turns her head, noticing his sudden stillness.  “Eli?” she asks softly, leaning closer. “Who is it?”
Eli slowly pockets the phone and closes his eyes briefly, before opening them back up again.
This is it. There’s no turning back now.
“He’s inside,” Eli says quietly.
Without waiting for the rest of the congregation to clear the pews, Eli takes Lucia by the wrist and leads her out, nodding to David on the way, who nods to Marcus, and they all stand up.
The house is dark when they reach it, the staff and remaining security still stationed at the garden for the reception, and they all head straight to the small surveillance room off the west corridor.
Marcus pulls up the feed and the screens flicker to life.
Adrian is seen standing in the front hallway, followed by four armed men, moving through the empty house with the calm, unhurried confidence of a man who has already decided exactly how the rest of tonight is going to go.
The moment the last man steps across the threshold, Marcus presses a button and the doors slam shut behind the men.
A moment later, the lock engages.
The security indicator light on the monitor flips instantly from green to red, sealing every exit, window shutter, and point of entry from the outside.
On the screen, surrounded by locked steel doors and five floors of concrete reinforcement, Adrian stops in the middle of the dark entry hall, and looks up directly into the lens of the camera.