“Shovel it is!” Eziah snaps, stabbing it into the ground.
“What about Dominic? Can he tell you if he can be resurrected?” Eziah asks.
“I can’t reach him,” I mutter, repeating myself again.
“At all? He is gone?” Eziah questions.
“No, I just think I am having trouble connecting with him because I am calm. I will figure it out,” I tell him, and he sighs.
“Well, this sucks,” he whines, stabbing the shovel into the earth while looking around suspiciously for anyone. Luckily, we are at the back and hidden pretty well from anyone that may drive by. Eziah curses, and I laugh.
“Ah, finally,” Eziah says, and I glance over at him. He tosses his shovel, and seconds later, mom appears, only this time she brought both of my fathers, and all have a shovel in hand.
“Need a hand?” my father asks, his wolf Maddox, pressing forward, and I smile, chucking my shovel into the dirt and rushing over to wrap my arms around him. He squeezes tight, burying his face in my hair.
“You told them? What about not wanting to change fate? Not that I am complaining…” Eziah says.
“Got sick of listening to you whine, and as long as we get out of here before you open that casket, I think the future will be fine!” my mother tells him.
“You came to help?” I ask, looking up at my father.
“Well, if you are going to hell for disrupting a grave, I am coming with you,” my father Mateo says. I let go of my father to go give him a hug.
“But we open it, and there are ghosts or something. Call your other father though, I don’t do ghosts. He will bring the sage and holy water,” he chuckles, kissing my head and hugging my shoulders. “I missed you, and I am sorry,” he whispers, kissing my cheek.
“I missed you too,” I tell him, letting him go and looking at my mother. She reaches over and squeezes my fingers before grabbing a shovel, and we all start digging.
It doesn’t take long, especially with both my fathers, who know how to work and when I hear the shovel hit metal, we all stop and use our hands. Now, we have the issue of getting the casket out of the ground. Digging it up is one thing. Getting it out is another thing entirely. I let out a breath and huff. Now what?
“Now, how do we get it out?” I ask, looking around at everyone.
“Dig the sides out, so we can stand either side, and we are gonna have to lift it,” my father Mateo says, wiping his face with the back of his hand.
“Why did he have to be buried? I figured he would have a crypt or something. Why the damn ground if he wanted to be exhumed?” Eziah says, grabbing his knees and trying to catch his breath.
“No, point whining, keep digging,” my mother snaps.
“And where do we put the casket? We can’t leave it here?” Eziah asks and I glance around to find a CRYPT! Which is part of Kyan’s family plot. I point to it.
“You are fucking kidding me. He has a crypt! Was it for shits and giggles? Why Daddy Dom, why?” Eziah whines.
“You really gotta stop calling him that,” I tell him with a shudder.
“Yes, please do not refer to him like that. Dominic actually gives those vibes off,” my father Mateo shudders, and mom chuckles and clucks her tongue.
“Okay, enough now get him out to see if they can open it,” Mom says, clapping her hands and ordering us back to work.
We continue to dig. After half an hour more, we have dug enough out that we can lift it out. However, nearly the entire day has passed, and my phone rings. Mom motions for everyone to remain quiet when she checks the phone and shows me the screen. It is Kyan. I reach for it, dusting my hands off before answering it.
“Hey,” I answer, shooting everyone a nervous glance.
“Where are you at?” he asks.
“Out with my brother. Where are you?” I look at my family and bite my lower lip.
“Heading to the manor, if you are still in the city, I can come to grab you, or is Eziah going to drop you home?” he asks.
“Actually, can you pick me up in an hour from the Casino, or is Jonah still there?” I ask.
“He is. I will call him and tell him to wait for you.” Kyan falls quiet for a second. “Are you bringing your brother back to the manor?” he asks and my eyes move to Eziah briefly, and I can feel through the bond that he doesn’t want to see my brother right now.
I don’t blame him; it would be hard seeing someone who killed your uncle. Eziah shakes his head and mouths Jonah’s. I nod to him. “Can he stay at Jonah’s in the casino?”
“Yes, I just don’t want to deal with him. I’m sorry, Marabella, but not yet,” I chew my lip, as I watch my mother open the crypt while my fathers and Eziah carry the coffin over, placing it inside.
“Sure, I will be home soon,” I quickly mutter, ready to be done and over with this.
“Love you,” he tells me.
“Love you too,” I tell him before hanging up.
I race over to my parents, grabbing the duffle bag Eziah brought with him. Eziah tries to open the coffin, and so do I. We try for about ten minutes, but nothing works, and mom becomes increasingly nervous.
“Stop. Your fathers can’t be here; it wasn’t part of my vision. And you have a brown leather,” she closes her mouth.
“You will find it; I can’t say anymore. I don’t want to interfere when I only have glimpses,” she says.
“You saw it, am I right?” I raise an eyebrow at her.
Mom’s lips tug up. “I can’t say, and I don’t want to jinx anything,” she mutters, but I know that is her way of telling me I am right. We quickly push all the dirt back into the grave, which still has an enormous hole, now that it is empty of the casket. We say our goodbyes and lock the family crypt up.