25
ENZO
Bobby’s funeral f****d me up in some strange ways I couldn’t decipher. Once again, I was the monster who had survived, for whatever reason. It had nothing to do with deserving to live.
Not while so many good men had lost their lives on the battlefield.
Death made no sense.
I didn’t have a right to be as happy as I was with Tessa.
I didn’t win the fight with her ex because I was a better man. I’d won it because of superior size, a better aim, and faster reflexes: plain and simple.
Death didn’t distinguish between a good man and bad, for if it did, Bobby would have died a long time ago. His deeds earned him a special seat in Hell.
Seeing his casket lowered into the ground reminded me of so many other funerals I’d attended, where they buried good men.
Young men.
Men with fam
