Blind Man's Bluff

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

“Does he even play?” Lanie asked.

“A little.” The impression of her weighted against his back, and he pulled the quilt up to his shoulders. “Look honey, that pick means the world to me, not because I got it from Beaux Jax. It means everything because you made everything about that show possible. But I have the memories and that is what matters the most.” Closing his eyes tiredly, he fought the betrayal, and tried to make her understand. “Jake has done a lot for me. He's been there for me from day one. And I don't understand why he would take it, but anything he ever asks for I would give. I owe him so much.”

With that said, he prepared himself for one of her sarcastic responses, perhaps about Jake not asking, just taking, but she only replied, “That was the best night. Great memories. What was your greatest?”

“You.” With no hesitation, his answer was absolute.

“I loved that night...” On a quiet breath, she made the declaration, and he fell asleep with the memory of her hazel eyes flirting with his.

Sunny days always seemed a blasphemy to a funeral, and at no time in the few he had been to before, did it seem more wrong than today. This was wrong on so many levels. Wrong that she was gone, and wrong that she was not.

Jake and Lanie both stuck by his side, Jake trying to steer him around, without making it obvious that he was doing so, for anyone who didn't know his condition, and Lanie doing the same, only more efficient. Wrapping an arm around him, she pulled him the correct ways, led him around obstacles, and verbally cued him.

“Remember Meagan from school? Here she is.”

“Chris! It's been forever! I am so sorry about Lanie.”

A minute or so into their conversation, Lanie blurted, “Michael Knox and Trayson.”

“Chris, dude! Tired of being a rock star yet?”

Chris made smalltalk, made polite talk, introductions went around to Jake, and a familiar panic shortened his breaths. If word of his blindness had made it to his old acquaintances, they didn't let on. Lanie offered the solution, “If this is getting to you, you could just say you have something to take care of before your flight.” He did, and Lanie eased him away with Jake. “So there's my sister over there...”

His feet sank softly into the grass, and Lanie pulled him up short. “A few steps directly ahead. She's crying.” Finishing that observation sadly, Lanie grew quiet.

“Cass?”

“Hey Chris.” There was a last sniffle as she drew herself together, and then lost it again, the sobs coming quietly. Carefully treading two steps, he put his arms out, his hands landing on hers. “I'm sorry,” she whispered.

“It's fine.” His fingers closed around hers, and suddenly, she was against him, in his arms, crying in earnest. Jake made an excuse, and moved politely away, but Chris knew he would not go out of sight.

“It's going to be so hard without her...” Cassandra mumbled.

“I know Cassie...” Chris comforted, his fingers tapping a shoulderblade.

Cassandra had grown a foot or more since he had seen her, and from what he was feeling as he rubbed her arms, she was no longer pudgy. Letting his palms slide to her shoulders, he got a rough visualization in his mind. She was not slender like her sister, but she was not the chunky kid she had been. Her sobs stilled, and her breathing evened some, and with a last hug, she pulled ever so slightly away. “Thanks Chris. I'm sorry I probably messed up your shirt.”

“There's something I need to tell you Cass...”

Lanie helped him thorough a skewed version of the truth, and Cassandra fell into his arms, once again. “Thanks for telling me. I was so mad that night, I said horrible things to her, and it's been eating at me.”

“She said you both said things you didn't mean. And that she was sorry about the fights, that she was taking some things out on you because she was stressed.”

“What was she stressed about?”

“Chris...” Lanie dragged his name out warningly, but he didn't heed it. She had said to handle it however he wanted to, or something on that order.

“I got the feeling that school was stressing her out, and some of her friends.”

“Nial, right?” Cassandra quickly guessed.

“Chris!” Lanie protested again.

“I really don't know that it was him specifically.” Chris hedged as Lanies fingers dug painfully into his arm.

“I do. The guy was no good. I tried to tell her.” Cassandra's words sounded as doleful as they were heated. “You should have seen the way he treated her. And she just let him order her around like he was a freaking king and she was a servant. I mean sure he was really hot. But not as hot as you.”

“Cassie!” Lanie's shriek was so loud in his head that he thought he had spoken it also, but Cassandra stammered on.

“I'm sorry. Awkward.” As humbled as if she had heard her sister, she made the apology, while Chris stood, indeed awkwardly, and unsure of how to respond. “Speaking of the devil. That's him coming over now.”

Cold panic stiffened his muscles. Lanie had begged him not to do anything here at the services, but despite her casket adorned with flowers in the pavilion on one side of him, and her mourning family all around him, all he could think about was beating this dick senseless. Dropping his chin, he lowered his eyes to the darkness that was the ground and waited, aware of Lanie's tight grip.

The introductions were made, and the inflection in the other guys voice seemed to acknowledge that he knew exactly who Chris had been to Lanie. Chris refrained from putting his hand out, and had no way of knowing if it was a rebuff or not. As the douche moved away, he briefly and companionably clasped Chris on the arm, and that was his undoing. Shooting his own arm out, Chris clamped onto the guy and muttered, “If I were you, I would watch my back.”