𝐌𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

3 | What Am I Supposed to Do With You?

Being at another funeral already this year isn't particularly common unless you're over the age of 75 and all your friends are dying around you. Being at Daniels funeral makes me both uncomfortable and infuriated at the same time. I'm surrounded by cops in uniform, performing a three volley salute and I'm going to leave as soon as I can sneak away unnoticed.

The three volley salute is where three gunshots are fired in the the air by the Honour Guard. I don't really know why. The nations flag is draped over his casket which I presume is empty and just for show considering he was barely a fully formed body after Tom was finished with him.

Cop funerals are even worse than normal funerals.

I wonder how his family were told. Did someone call them like 'hey someone's smashed your sons body into a must sack of broken bones and blood'? His mum was always pretty nice to me, his Dad was a fucking asshole police lieutenant and his little brother was a teenage creep who I always thought would end up shooting up a school. They're all crying at the moment, which does make me relatively empathetic considering their son is dead.

As much as Daniel was my ex boyfriend, he technically wasn't a bad person. He was doing his job as an undercover agent and got caught in the crossfire. Of course, from Tom's point of view he had said some pretty unsavoury things about me at The PlayHaus.

Everyone from the police precinct had to attend the funeral, which is the only reason I am here. The chief of police gave a chilling speech about how there's no rest for the wicked and that he and the team won't sleep until the entire mafia is shut down.

Sorry to break it to you buddy, but that won't happen. The mafia is everywhere. And there are hundreds of crime syndicates around the world they work with. Oh you want firearms from Japan? Yeah, The Family import that from the Yakuza. Heroin from Russia? Their mafia is even more brutal. Good luck negotiating with those sons of bitches pal.

Along with the cleaners planting evidence and removing anything incriminating towards Tom, my team and I concluded that Dominic killed Daniel and then died slowly from his bullet shot. This also means that Tom isn't a suspect at all and that Daniels murder is a simple open and shut case.

Once the ceremony ended I beelined for the car park, weaving in and out of mourning cops and family members. A side note: My car is definitely above my pay grade, no forensic psychologist at my level would be driving a car in the six digit range.

Thanks Harrison.
Thanks Tom.

My team at work actually asked how I managed to pay for it and I said it was financed with the bank for five years and my loan was through the roof.

Now my team think I have poor money management skills and/or I'm a sugar baby.

Luckily I managed to drive away from the ceremony and head back towards home before getting a call from Harrison come through the car speakers.

"Hey Harrison, what's up?" I asked, focusing on the road but listening to what he wanted.

"Y/N! Can you come pick us up?" Harrison yelled, his speech slurred and the background even louder than he was. It made me sigh knowing how drunk they were at like 6pm.

Look, I'm not one to judge someone's methods of mourning but Tom has been drunk almost every night since Dominic passed, whether it's been out at bars or on the couch by himself. I'm starting to get worried.

"Yeah, I'm in the car now, where are you?" I asked, hearing a drunk Harrison give me an address at least an hour away from me. He then told me he couldn't get Tom to listen to him and 'get off the thing'.

They're fucked.
I swear I'm like both their mothers.

I told them to stay where they were, hung up and drove across the fucking city for an hour to pick up two drunken man babies. Pulling up out the front of where they were day drinking at, I texted Harrison saying I was here.

Then I saw security carrying out a passed out Tom with his best friend apologising to him profusely; trying to talk his way out of a sticky situation.

Typical Harrison.

He opened the back doors for the security guard to push Tom inside the car. Harrison, chirpy and happy as ever got into the passenger seat and grinned at me innocently.

"You're in trouble. Why is he like that when you're just a normal level of drunk huh? What did you do to him?" I frowned, putting the keys back in the ignition and starting up the engine.

"What did I do? He did this to himself. The whole time he told me to keep up with how many drinks he had and meanwhile he was ordering double strength for himself the whole time," Haz whined, leaning forward to fiddle around with the music, skipping almost twenty songs until he found one he liked.

"No! Wha- I- You... Fuck- Huh," Tom called out from the backseat, mumbling to us despite not making any sense. I could only make out a few cohesive words in between his slurring.

"Okay mate, I'll change the song," Haz said skipping the song he had skipped a thousand times to get to, annoying me to the point where I just turned off the car audio and smacked Harrison's hand away.

"You're both children oh my god," I huffed, telling Harrison that Robyn was going to kick his ass for being so drunk in the middle of the week.

"Hey, hey, hey now. Don't forget which two girls ended up so drunk they broke into my backyard in the middle of the night, swam completely topless and yelled out for like ten minutes, waking the neighbours," Haz rebutted.

"For the record, I swam with a bra and underwear. Robyn was the one who took her bra off and that was only to try and lure you down to the backyard to let us inside cos we forgot the keys," I sighed, giving into the argument.

"I wasn't even home! I was at your house with Tom! I only saw all of this from the security camera app on my phone," he laughed.

"Well now we're at your house, so get out of my car, go kiss your girlfriend and apologise to her for being such a mess," I laughed, scruffing up his hair with my hand and saying goodnight.

I like Harrison. He's a cool guy.
I like his girlfriend Robyn too, she's become one of my closest friends because we can rant about our dumb drunk boyfriends all the time.

Driving back to our house took another half an hour and I was ready for bed. I had work tomorrow for gods sake, I can't spend my down time being an Uber driver for a group of drunken man babies.

"Tom, Tom come on, get up," I said pulling at his arm to try and get him to go inside. As bad as it sounded, this reminded me exactly of the night Dominic died; pulling a half-conscious Tom out of the backseat and coercing him to go inside. Except tonight didn't have blood.

He finally did as he was told, stumbling inside, pulling his clothes off and face planting the bed. A similar scene to what happened after his godfather ceremony. And after the funeral. And after every other night he's gone out getting absolutely shit faced.

It's starting to become a routine in both of our lives now. Tom drinks too much, gets home a wreck, passes out in our bed and I wake up to go to work before he does. All because he's still mourning. And he's allowed to, I just wish it wasn't like this.

What a great life we're starting together.