A Lover's Wish Read Free Page A

I’m about ready to snap and we both know it won’t be pretty.”
    “You know you’re overreacting, right?”

    Kianna wagged a finger at her best friend and was about to say something when her name was called. Inhaling deeply, she found the smile from somewhere deep, placed it on her face and turned around. It was Mrs. Jackson, the pastor’s wife.
    “What time is the funeral?” the woman questioned with the hat that looked ridiculously too big to fit her head.
    Kianna wanted to whack her with something. How could you be the pastor’s wife, be the pastor’s secretary and not know when he’s supposed to be presiding over a funeral? Kianna turned to Jace and whispered, “Still think I’m overreacting?” Kianna’s smile did not waver when she turned back to the older woman, “I believe it is at ten in the morning.”
    “Ten in the morning? Why that ungodly hour? Do you know what the traffic will be like in this forsaken city? And besides, on Saturdays I am not awake before eleven. Who picked that time?”
    Kianna’s smile faltered and she growled, “Look, you lazy—”
    “It was the best time the funeral home could come up with,” Jace stepped in.
    Kianna’s plastic smile was back the moment Mrs. Jackson looked to Jace, then back to Kianna. Excusing herself, she placed her tray down. If she didn’t get out now, she was going to say something she would regret later. The thought

    that those people were her parent’s friends and not hers and she couldn’t care less what they thought flashed through her mind. But in order to save her partial sanity, she turned. She was making a beeline for the stairs to hide herself in her bedroom when the pastor himself stepped into her path. She wasn’t ready to hear one of his infamous lectures about God’s will be done and she was sure if he started one, she would haul off and kick his butt to Albuquerque.
    “Sister Sanderson,” Pastor Jackson began.
    “Is dead. My name is Kianna,” she spoke insolently.
    “Very well, Kianna. I am truly sorry for your loss. I know it is hard now because you loved your parents like any good daughter should. But you have to understand that this is God’s will.”
    “With all due respect, Pastor, if you believe that my mother’s stroke was God’s will, then alright, I’ll give you that one. But I sure as hell don’t think that it was God’s will that my father took a .45 to his own damn head!” Shoving roughly by him, she heard someone gasp, but didn’t give a flying fig if she had offended anyone.
    Climbing the stairs, she locked herself in the bedroom and stared out the window. She was breathing harder than normal—her anger had seeped through her veins, flowed throughout her body and left her panting. Closing her eyes for a

    brief moment, she reeled in her temper and leaned heavily against the wall.
    The sun dying over Dillon Hall was the most beautiful thing in the early November sun. There were splotches of purples, oranges and yellows in the sky. The cool air flowing through the open window kissed and caressed her skin. She tried to take some comfort in it, but all she could think of was the sight of her father slumped over the steering wheel of his car. Kianna whimpered weakly while shaking her head to clear the images. Had he even stopped to think that this daughter, his only baby, would find him like that? Had he thought of what kind if mental issues she would have after witnessing her father dead like that? Whenever she closed her eyes, she could still see it. In fact, she could see him walking toward the car with the gun in his hands. Then he would climb into the car, close and lock the door, inhale deeply before lifting the gun to his head.
    Bang!
    She dipped to hide with a gasp. When she realized it was all in her head, Kianna started laughing. Her own mirth sounded alien to her very ears, but she continued laughing. It was one of those instances to her that if she didn’t laugh, she would go insane.
    She