Something feels off. It's been an entire week since I've heard from him, his phone rings to voicemail; he's not answering my text, Facebook messages, I've even resorted so snail mail – nothing! I don't know what to do. My baby brother has never gone this long without speaking to me. Usually a day at the most will pass before I hear from him. It's got to be that hillbilly biker gang that he belongs to, what have they done now? It wasn't enough that they snatched him up right after he returned from deployment but now this. Why haven't I heard from Kip?

As I sit an oversized table in a terribly cliché coffee shop with my laptop in front of me I wonder what I should do next – I could go pop in, just a visit. After all I do work for myself and running a fashion blog can be done almost anywhere; and I do miss my brother terribly, he's the only family I have left. I'll just make sure he's okay and go about my business. I do owe him some money anyways and with the chunk of change mom's estate brought in I'm sure he'd be glad to cash his in. Maybe then he'll leave the sons of blasphemy or whatever they call themselves. He could start over, maybe even buy a house. That's what I'm doing anyways - Why shouldn't he? He is only a car ride away – 36 minutes to be exact. It wouldn't take long at all. That's it – I'm doing it! No more Mrs. Nice Girl… I'm going to find my baby brother whether he likes it or not.

I snap my laptop shut, gather my things and I'm off. Driving down the highway in my mother's ruby red 64' Impala, I almost forget how angry I am at my brother for losing contact. The steering wheel starts to shake the faster I go but I don't care, I'm a woman on a mission.

I drive past his house, his motorcycle isn't there and all the lights are off. Maybe he's at work? It couldn't hurt to try. A few minutes later I pull up to Teller-Morrow Automotive Repair, there are more cars there than I would have expected for a Sunday morning. I look around for a moment before spotting Kip's motorcycle. The only reason I can tell it apart from the others is because on the back there is a sticker of my logo – a small teal triangle with a fuchsia circle around it, my initials FE in the middle. I smiled to myself, how masculine is he running around with a fashion label on his bike?

I wonder to myself where he could be, there was a door open on the furthest side of the lot and a few members sitting at a picnic table smoking cigarettes. I shake my head, thinking I could use one myself but instead I park my car and give myself a once over. My make up slightly smeared around my almond eyes, I don't bother to wipe it away. My curls are out of control from the wind but I don't care, it's just Kip after all, and he could hardly tell his ass from his toes. I turn off my car, not bothering to lock it, something I often do. This explains why my cell phone so regularly gets stolen.

I can feel myself practically sprinting towards the club house, not very lady like for the attire that I'm wearing, but again I don't care. I just want to see my Kip. I slow down as I reach the door, looking to the older men at the table. They're looking at me like I'm a bat out of hell. I guess they've never seen a woman with class before, or a vintage Jackie O Chanel dress from the 1960's before. I sigh loudly, hoping they'll say something but they remain silent. "Hello, sorry to bother but I'm here to see Kip." I look to each of them, clicking my peep toe Louboutin against the pavement.

One of them, older with curly hair and a pot belly finally pipes up, avoiding eye contact with me. "Ma'am, The service is over."

I raise an eyebrow, "Excuse me?"

"Haven't you heard?" He speaks again, this time quieter.

"Heard what?" I respond, nibbling against my lower lip, I really don't have time for practical jokes.

"I'm sorry to break this news miss but-"He starts, I don't wait for him to take a breath. I cannot hear what he has to say next. I raise my hand to stop him before continuing inside; where I'm going I don't know but I cannot listen to this old man speak any longer. My head is brewing with confusion, what is that old man talking about? My Kip must be inside. As I walk down the corridor I begin to see familiar faces. I have seen them in Kip's photographs, except in real life they aren't all smiling, there is a mood set in this room that is the exact opposite. None of them look at me directly, not that I even expect them to know who I am.

I look from side to side, not seeing Kip I begin to wonder where he could be and then it hits me. I look forward, a casket standing ten feet a head. It couldn't be, could it? I suddenly feel like an intruder, How could I just barge into somebody else's funeral, for people I don't even like. I look to the side, finally seeing my Kip. Except instead of seeing him standing I see a picture, a memorial photo even. I can't help what comes next; I rush forward pushing every person I come to the side.

There is no way it could be Kip, not my brother. Not my baby brother. When I reach the casket I see a sunken in face of the one person I love the most. My knees fail me, my throat opens, I'm screaming. I feel my hands cover my face and then the sides of his coffin. "No." I repeat to myself, "No. No. No."

I can feel somebody behind me. "Get away from him." I try to scream but it only comes out as a whisper. I can't keep my hands off of him, his face is so cold. He feels like rubber. I cry and I cry, not caring who is there to see. "Why didn't anyone tell me?" I whisper, "What happened?"

A set of hands reach for my shoulders, rubbing gently against them. "Freya?" I can barely hear the voice behind me.

Opie. One of two people from this gang that I actually know. The only one that I don't despise. When his wife died Kip confided in me, I even met with the two of them a few times for dinner. It seemed like since Donna's passing the two had grown very close. In this moment I'm glad he is here. I turn to look at him, disappointed that he hadn't reached out to me but I can see the sadness in his eyes. He feels the same pain I do, I know it. I forgive him. But I have to know what happened. I have to figure this out. I have to fix this. All of this. Why hadn't I been a better sister? I could have saved him. I should have protected him. Should have come sooner. I cannot breathe. I push myself into Opie's arms, not caring what anybody else thinks. "Get me out of here." I whisper, burying my face into his chest. My legs give underneath me but he doesn't seem to mind. He picks me up like I'm a child and carries me away.