Salvation [Kylo Ren Mafia AU]

Guilt

The car ride is silent as we grow closer to the funeral. My black dress is unbearably uncomfortable as I adjust it for the tenth time, fussing over my shoes next. We all sit in a single car, one escorting us in front and one following behind us to the burial site. All of the men wear nearly identical suits, black with white dress shirts underneath. A simple black tie adorns their necks and they all look presentable. My Vivienne Westwood dress was one I have never worn because it wasn't revealing enough for prior meetings as Kylo's plaything. It's black, tight with a high neckline, and flares slightly at the knee. Lace accents wrap around my arms and the hem of the neck, practically digging into the damp skin that can't breathe with the hot weather today and the thick material swaddled around me.

I will burn this damned dress after today.

Ap'lek drives with Kylo in the passenger seat. Vicrul sits to my left and Ushar sits to my right while Cardo, Kuruk, and Trudgen sit in the very back. I hiss as the strap of my heel slips out of my grip again, just barely out of my reach. I huff a breath as I try to lean forward, the dress halting my movements and restricting my flexibility. Ushar watches me while Vicrul speaks on the phone, his large hand resting on my knee in a comforting way. I assume Vicrul is speaking to Clyde who escorts us in the car in front, making our way to the cemetery. It's quite obvious as they discuss the expected guest list and exact location. The bank, Kylo's bank and her former employer, paid for the funeral and burial costs so he has all the information possible today.

I silently curse as I grind my teeth, growing more irritated at the shoes than necessary. Tears rim my eyes with the overwhelming feeling of fear and anxiousness causing my fingers to shake and lose grip of my strap again. The dress constricts my chest from taking a deep breath, not allowing me to calm myself that way.

Without speaking, Ushar bends down and picks up my foot, gently bending it so it rests atop his thigh. I watch closely as his fingers work the delicate strap, weaving it through the tiny silver buckle and securing it in the second tightest loop. He softly lowers my foot and grabs the other, repeating the same process. This time, he does not lower my leg, but rests his warm hand on top of my skin. My gulp must be audible because Ap'lek glances back at me through the rearview mirror before focusing back on the road. Ushar continues to focus on his phone while his free hand gently massages my calf, ankle, calf again, and knee. The shock is distracting enough that I ignore the cemetery entrance, watching his delicate hand work out a knot that he found deep behind my knee. I hiss at first but melt after it loosens and disappears.

Ushar has always kept some distance between us and I never knew why. At first, I thought he despised my presence and only spoke to me when necessary. It felt as if I was an intrusion on his life despite my hands being forced to work for them. Now that I know he doesn't hate me, I wonder what keeps him distanced from me despite me trying to get him to warm up to me. I let loose a near silent moan as he finds another knot in my calf, working it until it disappears. I would have been his best friend from day one if he massaged me head to toe. Vicrul's hand slides up my opposite thigh and squeezes gently, causing my heart to skip a beat before resuming his usual business on the phone. Vicrul has been well behaved around me today and I wonder if Kylo threatened him for ignoring their plan or if a funeral is a boundary he also has. Neither seem plausible for him.

The paved road we were once on is no longer there, crunching sounds of gravel and unsteadiness replacing the silent drive and forcing me to look away from the hands that roam over my legs. There is a long line of cars pulled off to one side of the path, people of all ages stepping out and walking towards the tented area. Nausea roils inside of me as I remove the men's hands from my body and I sit up, watching the people gather around a hole in the ground. A sea of black suits and dresses stand stark on the green grassed hill. My chest is tight as I begin to take shaky breaths, inhaling becoming harder to do as the seconds pass. The dark chestnut casket sits peacefully over the hole, bouquets of flowers slowly beginning to accumulate by the minute.