Don't Bury Him Yet Novels & Stories

A deep, aching pull I don’t understand. Am I broken? Or have I buried the truth under so many expectations, I can’t even feel it? I curl beneath the covers, eyes still open. The celebration is over. The mask is off. But the questions remain.

I felt his pain as he forced those words out of his mouth and it was a…humbling experience. “I am only saying you should take a bath. Nothing else. You don’t have to bring up your past. I am not asking you about it.” I would never force him about it. He heaved a sigh and went to the window, looking at the scenery outside. From where we were, we were facing the flower garden. “I will never leave you. I don't want to bury anyone again.” Did he bury Zenith? Or did he burn her body just as he instructed before?

He wanted to drive to the cemetery right now and dig until he knew for certain. Instead he stood there gripping the counter, breathing. His wife slept peacefully in the next room. The woman who had given him the first real peace he'd ever known. The same woman who might have emptied his brother's grave. Jose looked at his own reflection and felt something ugly shift in his chest. Part of him didn't care. Part of him just wanted to keep the life he'd built no matter what crawled out from under it. He deleted the messages. Then emptied the trash folder too.

“Keep searching.” “We are searching, Don, but—” “I said keep searching.” Marco stepped in. “Kayson.” I turned on him. “Did you not hear me?” The rescue diver coming in from the water pulled off his mask and said bluntly, “Don, there’s nothing left to save.” That was the moment something inside me gave way. I stared at the wreckage piled under the floodlights, at the twisted metal and burned scraps dragged out of the sea, and my legs nearly went out from under me. Marco caught my arm before I hit the ground.

Makes the jon a little less messy. “Bury her.”

“She wouldn’t want us sitting here. Not like this. She gave her life so we could move forward. Don’t let her efforts go to waste.” Steph’s tears spilled over. “I don’t know how to move forward without her.” Charlie’s voice cracked, sharp but trembling. “None of us do. But we have to try.” I stood then, slowly, Taylor’s jacket still clutched in my arms. The weight of it felt like a promise. “We bury her today. Not in silence. Not in despair. We bury her as the spark that lit this fire. And then we carry her torch. All of us.”

The truth was still the same—he was in control, and I could do nothing about it. Damien chuckled, like he could see every thought running through my head. "Well, I guess you're not ready. Have a good day, Myla," he said, heading for the door. But then he paused, turned back to me, and smirked. "And… do not forget to invite me for their burial.” No.

Damian wasn’t just back from the dead. He had come to bury us for good.

Her mind was a little sluggish in the way that spoke of major blood loss, but that was fixable, given enough time. “We should just throw the body off a cliff. Be quicker that way. No one would find it,” someone said in broken English with a broken accent of native speaker. “Someone who shouldn’t might find it and then we’d have the Americans all up our ass again. It’s not worth the risk. Better to bury it deep.” Wonderful, Kira thought tiredly. Guess I get to cross off buried alive on my Situations I Have Been In And Wished I Weren’t list.

Do you want him to be resurrected or not? "I know, but my brother was an outcast before he killed himself; he was linked to killing a few other kids, so he was buried in a cemented and cloaked tomb, and I can't get him out unless my mother does, so my only priority right now is my mother." "All right, I understand; I'm not judging; let's get moving; we'll use my car, and I hope you're okay with that." "Of course, I don't mind; I'll give you the address once we're on the road; it's not far from here, just a few miles away, on our way."