Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
chapter twenty-one. give 'em hell, kid
❦
WHEN OSCAR HAD walked into Rousseau's, being one of many who were early to Camille's Irish wake, he has glued himself by the side of the coffin in which she had been put to rest in. His hands clasped behind his back as he just stared longingly at the woman who he had lost. Sure, everyone else knew her way more than he had, but no one had made Oscar feel as he had before. The impact someone has in your life isn't just by being present its by how they make you feel and Camille O'Connell made Oscar feel euphoric. The memory of their first kiss had played over and over again in his head as had the first time they had confessed their love for each other, it was all in which he hoped to never forget, not even as days go by and if it was possible for him to meet someone else.
His peaceful respects had been interrupted with the approach of a face he was very familiar with, a friend of the O'Connells whom he had helped then Lucien had compelled him, nearly making Will Kinney end his lip with a bullet to shoot through his skull. He was supposed to remember nothing of Oscar, but yet his face had been remembered, vaguely remembered. "Excuse me," Oscar's jaw had clenched wondering who had been to bother home during difficult times but as he turned to look at the detective his face had softened knowing that care that Camille had towards him. "don't I know you? Sorry. Uh, you just look so familiar."
Oscar shrugged as he spoke solemnly. "I guess I have one of those faces."
The gingered brunette had thought of making his escape to the bar, with hope of the whiskey the Irish was so found of, but Will had caught him form walking any further. "Did you know her well?"
Oscar nodded. "I did."
Detective Kinney had smiled with his own memory of the O'Connell. "She was, uh, very special girl."
"She was." Oscar agreed. "There's no polite summation that will do her justice..." A faint smile placed on his lips while his arms crossed over his chest. "but you're brave to try, and she would've admired that."
"I haven't read anywhere how she died." Oscar's breath couldn't help but hitch in his throat as he was heavily haunted by the reminder. "Do you know?"
"It was an accident." Their conversation had been interrupted with Esme's approach, who had smiled with her interjection that caused Will's eyes to flicker towards the brunette who held onto a bottle of whiskey to stick underneath her arm. The Browne's eyes flickered towards the badge clipped to the man's belt, questioning his intention of stepping within the bar that was hosting Camille's wake. "Sorry, Detective, are you here in official capacity?"
"No." Will's head shook. "Just came to pay my respects."
As the detective had turned away from both Esme and Oscar, the gingered brunette noticed the bottle of whiskey within his mother's hold. "What's that for?"
