Page 88 of Violent Little Thing

“Of course, son.” The preacher, someone that I didn’t even know, and certainly had never known Seraphina, waved Chris up.

I put the program in front of my face and leaned forward so that my hair covered most of my face.

Beau threw his arm around me and pulled me in tighter, and I buried my face into his chest.

Beau’s girlfriend, Magnolia, hadn’t come.

She’d had to work, and Beau had told her not to bother asking for the day off.

I wondered if it would bother her that I was using her man as a shield, but I’d ask for forgiveness later.

For now, I would take the cover he was providing.

“Hi, I’m Chris Gates.” Chris waved.

I rolled my eyes.

Chris was usually smooth as fuck, but now he was trying to appear like he wasn’t?

What was his game?

“I dated Seraphina for a few months,” he said. “But holding on to Seraphina was like trying to hold on to the sun. It wasn’t going to happen. She was wild and carefree, and she had such a love for life…”

I rolled my eyes hard.

He obviously didn’t know Seraphina at all.

She was never “sunny,” nor did she have a love for life.

She was by far the hardest person to get to know, was confrontational, and literally went out of her way to ruin your day if she could.

“She talked about her family a lot, and how much she loved them,” he continued.

Beau snorted.

Lysander made a squeak in his throat.

Yeah, the man really didn’t know his own “girlfriend.”

Seraphina couldn’t stand her family.

“When she was assaulted her junior year of high school…”

Every single person in the row stiffened, including me.

“She said that she saw no reason to live,” Chris continued. “Said that her family tried to help her, but that she was broken inside. She didn’t want to live in a world where her assaulter got to walk free. But she did live. And she thrived. She was a successful business owner, she volunteered at the local women’s shelter for sexual assault victims, and…”

“What the fuck is he talking about?” Benedict asked his ex-wife.

“I don’t know.” Olive sounded shocked.

Like the rest of us.

“Is it true?” Lysander asked.

“I have no idea,” Beau murmured.

The horrible thought in my head was “she told him all kinds of lies.”