Chapter 06

ODETTE

If there was one thing I loved in this world, it was food. And, I loved different types of food. My father had taught me everything I knew about cooking since mom had passed. For someone who worked more than he spent time at home, it surprised me just how many memories I made with him. He made sure to instill every skill I would need to survive in me in case he ever had passed, too.

Only, now all those lessons seemed useless. I couldn't cook anymore. Let alone eat, I couldn't pick up a spoon or fork and I definitely couldn't use a knife. The more I tried to do daily tasks, the more I failed at them. I needed help with a bath this morning. Was I embarrassed that my best friend had to help to do such simple tasks? Yes. But he handled them so well and it made my heart ache because it only proved what a gem of a person he was.

He didn't look down on me or treat me differently but there were moments, split seconds of weakness, where sadness would brush over his features before he covered it up with a mask of concentration. At night, when he left his room and I was left in mine, I would cry. Sob really. Until my throat turned scratchy, my eyes burned, and my pillow was soaked through with tears. I pitied myself. My mind only got darker and darker as each day passed and I didn't know how to stop myself from falling into the black pit of depression and misery.

The more I tried and failed, the more I just wanted to give up and end it all.

"Open up," the sound of Jericho's voice had me snapping out of my spiraling thoughts.

"Huh?" I asked, confusion coloring my tone. My gaze bobbed between the spoon of soup he held up and his face, "you don't have to."

"Odette," he tersely said my name with a warning glare, "don't fight me on this. Please."

I sighed and relented without another word, "Fine sweety, but you're honestly doing too much for me now."

"Nothing I ever do will be too much," Jericho pointedly said while feeding me the soup I had been trying to drink for the past half an hour, "want me to reheat it?"

"No, it's fine. I just want to get this done so I can go to bed," I muttered, taking another slurp. And another. And another.

Slash curled up beside me on the couch, his head propped on my lap with my hand resting atop. I wished I could have felt his silky smooth fur between my fingers. If I knew I would never have felt it again I would have appreciated it more when I had the chance. He was quieter these days, following me everywhere with his ears down. The last time he wagged his tail was the day I arrived at the apartment. I had a feeling he was picking up on my energy and it was affecting him. My presence here was the dismal cloud hanging over Slash and Jericho's heads.

"You sleep a lot lately," Jericho mused when I was halfway through the bowl of soup, "You wake up late and I take you to your sessions then you're right back in bed. If you don't need to be anywhere you don't even get up to have a shower. I know you're uncomfortable with me helping you so I was thinking of getting a nurse to help you in the meanwhile until you're able to do things on your own again."

"No, no," I quickly shook my head, hating the idea of a stranger seeing me naked in the shower or trying to feed me or do anything else for that matter, "really, I prefer it to be you rather than someone else. It's just..." I licked my chapped lips and prepared myself to utter my next set of words, "I just don't see the need to do things anymore. I'm not exactly a ball of rainbows and sunshine to be around right now and I feel like I'm hindering you from living your life."

Jericho scoffed, "I never had much of a life, to begin with, Odette, so I don't mind taking care of you," when he fed me the last spoonful he placed the bowl on the coffee table and turned to face me fully, "let me ask you this. If the roles were reversed, would you be doing the same for me?"

I didn't even have to think too hard, "I'd do whatever I could for you."

"Exactly," he agreed with a curt nod, "so, I'm doing the same. Don't insult me by thinking you're putting me out of my way. I want to do this."

"Aren't you uncomfortable doing these things?"

"Not in the least bit," he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead, "you're my ride or die. We support each other because that's what best friends do."

The corner of my lips lifted into a shaky smile, "You're an amazing human being. I wonder how you're even related to Gunnar and Ace sometimes if I'm being honest."

"I'm related to total idiots but I love them," Jericho laughed and it sounded strained, forced even. He was laughing for my sake and not because he wanted to.

"You are," I mumbled in quiet agreement before saying on a softer note, "you're also best friends with an idiot."

"Yeah, why do you think I'm the smart one from the lot of you," he taunted just as a knock sounded at the door. A long, deep groan rumbled in Jericho's chest as he stood to his feet, "that better not be my idiot brothers again. Honest to God, I'm thinking of moving to a remote island just so they don't find me."

He was already making his way to open the door when I yelled back, "Trust me, they'll still find you."

"You're probably right," Jericho chortled a real laugh this time that warmed my insides.

His laugh made it on my list of reasons to not give up. Right now, it was only his laugh on that list so I was basically hanging on by a thread. 

"Jericho, son," a gravelly voice greeted at the door, a voice I recognized all took well.

"Mr. Gibson, it's good to see you again. I didn't know you were going to drop by," Jericho stepped aside and gestured for my father to enter the apartment.

"I had some free time so I thought I'd check in on my girl," my father said, his stern manner of speaking automatically making me sit up straighter while squaring my shoulders.

Slash bristled and leaped off the couch to greet my dad. They had been partners for a long time when Slash was still on the force which meant they built a strong relationship over the years. Their bond was built on a foundation of trust. I always wanted to be part of the K9 unit. It was the one unit I was certain my partner couldn't fuck me over.

"I'll give you two some alone time," Jericho said. Slapping a hand twice on his thigh, he ordered, "Slash, come on. We're going for a walk."

Slash barked and trotted his way to Jericho's side.

"I won't be long," Jericho reassured, hooking a leash onto Slash's collar.

"I'll be fine," I rolled my eyes at his concern even though it was the sweetest thing anyone had done for me, "my dad is here."

"I know," although those were his words, Jericho still looked reluctant to leave.

"I appreciate you looking out for my girl but you don't honestly think you have to protect her from me?" My father incredulously asked.

"No sir," came Jericho's immediate response, "I'll get going now. Come on, boy."

We waited for the apartment door to close and then an extra two minutes after that to make sure Jericho was out of earshot before speaking. My father rounded the couch and dropped down beside me, arm resting behind me on the backrest. He looked tired and his age was finally showing on his face with the silver hairs mixing with his blond and the wrinkles that etched themselves into the canvas of his face. He had hazel eyes that could pass off as green at first glance, whereas I had mom's dark green eyes.

"How are you?" My dad finally broke the silence with words that were softer than a whisper.

"Alive," I supplied unhappily.

"My little girl," dad rasped, pulling me into him, "I'm so sorry this happened to you. But, you're a fighter. You know that. You're half me and half your mom. She may have been killed on the job but she went out a fighter. I fight every day to stay alive. You're doing the same. If anyone can recover from this, it's you."

"I don't believe that daddy," I admitted, letting the tears silently roll down my cheeks, "I can't do anything for myself."

"I know," he cooed, running a comforting hand up and down my arm, "and I'm not exactly thrilled that Jericho is here to help but, at the same time, I wouldn't trust anyone else. He's a good kid."

"The best," I choked on a half sob and half-laugh.

"I'm going to be free this weekend. Maybe you could stay with me so Jericho can have some rest. He seems on edge," dad suggested but I knew Jericho so I knew that would be a bad idea.

"He would be more on edge if he doesn't have eyes on me."

"That's not normal."

"Who said he or any of that boy's brothers were normal?" I asked sarcastically.

"Point taken."

"Dad?"

My father hummed.

"I know you're now allowed to talk about open cases but I need to know what you're busy working on," I knew what my father was about to say when he pulled away for me and opened his mouth so I beat him to it, "look, you're working on something that deals with the Italian mafia so don't even try to deny it."

"What do you know about it?" My father sat up with a frown twisting his features.

"I don't know much about it but I know you're digging into something you shouldn't," I accused but I wasn't mad at him. This was his job and he was damn good at his job.

He sucked on his teeth as he contemplated whether or not to tell me what he knew. I saw the exact moment he caved in when his shoulders arched forward by an inch, "Four and a half years ago the head of the mafia died. He was shot in what was said to be a drug deal gone wrong. He had no family to take his place so his second in command, Eddie Marino, took his spot at Capo. The one that died, I have a feeling he has something to do with Jericho's father's death."

"He does, dad," I breathed, figuring that telling my father what I knew wouldn't hurt anyone, "it's a long story but he did have something to do with the death of Jericho's dad. But, they've put that behind them. Let's not dig up the ghosts they've finally buried."

"They never found a body. None of them will ever fully find closure," my father, being the man of law and honor that he was, was adamant about this.

"They've moved on. That guy is dead. It's time to let it go. Please," I begged.

"Some records found their way to me. A book noting down all the locations they used to bury bodies. Or, wherever they disposed of the bodies. I think I can find their father and get to the bottom of this."

"Dad..." I shook my head, trying to figure out the best way to get him to drop this case, "you're not dipping your hand in a can of worms. You're dipping it into a sea of bloodthirsty sharks who'll waste no time in ripping you to shreds. All three of those brothers would rather you stay safe than do something foolish. Don't do—" I was cut off by the sound of the door opening.

Jericho trudged in with an apologetic grin, "Sorry. Ace called and he needs my help with something so I had to come back quicker than I expected. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, son," dad said, shooting me a pointed glare, "I'll see you soon. We'll continue this then."

I offered my father a tight smile, "Think about what I said."

"I will," he leaned down and pecked my cheek, "love you."

"Right back at you, old man," I called out as I watched him leave.

"He looks tense," Jericho mused once the door closed behind my father, "Is everything okay?"

I felt like the shittiest friend on the planet but I had no choice other than to lie, "Yeah, it's just stress from work," I felt sick to my stomach when I went on to say, "it's nothing he can't handle. We don't need to be worried about him anyway. He'll be fine. Just fine."