Justin was right about the effort. The excruciating pain and grueling work during the next two weeks was more than I ever imagined. I hadn’t thought about how hard the simple act of walking on a treadmill or lifting minimal weights with my legs would be.

I also hadn’t expected the unbelievable exhaustion from ordinary activities, the nightmares, which tore me from sleep at night, and the feeling of being lost in a giant sea of people where I used to fit in and belong.

The one thing saving me was Stevie. She brought humor back into my life. On down days, when I felt the happiness was a far-off dream, she would help get me out of my funk. She pushed me to keep going.

“Justin and my doctors say I’m getting better. I will be able to return to school next week.” I breathed through clenched teeth as Stevie pushed down on my back, folding me over my legs. It hurt like hell. “Only half days at first.”

“Ugh, Whiskey. That sucks.” She patted me on the head. “So glad I’m out of high school. College is much better. Though taking this semester off means more mommy and daughter time, which compels me to want to go with you next week.”

“Not even living with your mom could make you want to.” I stretched to touch my ankle briefly, not able to hold it for long.

“Yeah, you’re right. High school was awful. One time was enough for me, especially in this tiny town.”

Stevie had graduated before I moved here. She’d been at art college in New York, before her accident.

“You’re probably one of those people who likes high school, don’t you?” She gave up on pushing me forward and plopped down on the mat with an exaggerated huff like she had been the one working out. “Don’t make me hate you, Whiskey. Not after I’ve invested this much time into corrupting you.”

“I did. Before.” I wiped the bead of sweat from my hairline. “I’m not sure of anything anymore.”

“That gives me hope.” She nudged me with her shoulder, then her head snapped to the door, hearing it squeak open, mine following.

Hunter’s tall figure stepped into the room, halting my lungs. His hair was messy, his scruff thick around his face. He wore a dark grey hoodie and long blue and white basketball shorts. Knee braces covered each leg, crutches stuffed under his arms.

My heart twisted and began to pound. Would I ever get used to the initial sight of him? Lose the sensation it was Colton? Then the heart-wrenching disappointment when I realized it wasn’t?

“Hunter Harris, right?” Justin walked over to him, holding out his hand.

Hunter shook it, his gaze lifted and caught mine. His blue eyes flashed, lids narrowing. The world blurred around me. All I could see was his intense glower. I reciprocated.

I hadn’t seen him since the incident in the hallway when he almost died at my feet. Emotions swirled between us. Anger. Hate. Blame. Guilt. Resentment.

“Is anyone else joining you?” Justin leaned around him, peering down the hallway.

Hunter’s attention broke from mine and moved to Justin. “No.”

“Okay, well, let’s get started then. Follow me.” He motioned for Hunter to shadow him across the room. Hunter’s crutches swung forward and clipped the ground, his feet skimming the surface as he ambled after Justin. He held his head perfectly straight as if he were trying not to look over at me.

“Okay, what’s the deal, Whiskey?” Stevie leaned over to me, her eyes wide, glancing between me and Hunter. “Besides him being seriously sexy as hell and some strange vibe I’m picking up between you two?”

I felt the heat in my cheeks prick and start to flush over my face. “That’s Hunter.” I took in a shaky breath, swallowing the lump in my throat. “The twin brother of my boyfriend who was killed. He was in the car too.”

“Twin brother?”

“Identical.”

“Holy shit.” Stevie’s mouth dropped open. “This is like a soap opera. All we need is some amnesia and him thinking he’s the other twin till the end of the season where the big twist is revealed.”

My lids flickered in annoyance.

“Yeah. Okay, I might be spending too much time on the sofa watching TV.”

“You think?”

“Not much else to do at my house.”

“This is my life, not a soap opera.” I wrapped my arms around my better leg, trying to pull it up. It was still stiff and uncomfortable. “And we’ve never liked each other. I mean, we can’t tolerate each other. Now Colton is gone…we no longer have to play nice.”

“Hate is a funny thing.” Stevie glanced between us again. “All I see is heated friction between you two.”

“Gross, Stevie.” A surge of irritation sizzled up my spine. “My boyfriend’s dead, and all you can joke about is friction with Hunter? That’s twisted, even for you.”

“Nothing is too twisted for me.”

“Hunter is not someone I want in my life. He’s bad news. Constantly got Colton to help clean up his mess, needing to be bailed out of trouble all the time. It’s the reason Colton got in the car that night. Why he is dead.”

“No. Your boyfriend is dead because he was stupid and drove drunk. Without a seatbelt. A sad, too common cautionary tale, which never seems to be learned.”

“I let him do it. I could have tried harder. Been stronger.” I stared down at my hands. “Neither one of us stopped him. It’s our fault he is dead.”

“No. You can’t control other people. Only yourself. It’s not your fault or his.” She lifted her hand at Hunter across the room. “Everyone is always so busy trying to find someone to blame or a reason to make themselves feel better, but sometimes things just happen. Unfair and pointless. But good or bad, this is life, and we have to deal with what it gives us.”

She stared down at her hands; her forehead furrowed. It was the most serious I’d ever seen her. “My dad battled cancer for years and finally won. He was in remission. The doctors said they didn’t see signs of it anymore. Then he went to work and died of a heart attack. Now tell me the fairness or reason in that?” She played with her chipping nails. “There isn’t. And there is no one to blame. It’s just life. Sucks, but we go on.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “I’m simply saying it’s useless to be angry or blame Hunter for something out of your control. He probably hates himself more than you ever could anyway.”

I glanced over at Hunter. Irrational anger still simmered up my throat looking at him. Even if Stevie was right, my ire didn’t budge.

“This is why I don’t give myself limits and try to live life to the fullest. You never know when your number is up.” She used me as a brace as she pushed herself to her feet. “Speaking of that, I’m gonna go see if Suzie does home visits. I could use more one-on-one time.” Stevie winked and walked over to the dark-haired trainer, putting the weights and bands back in their designated spots.

I couldn’t stop the amused grin pulling at the edge of my mouth. I could never be as daring or forward as Stevie, but she made me look at life differently. The version of me before the accident didn’t want to look outside of the box, stay safe, and uncomplicated. But the box was broken into pieces, and I was roaming free in this huge world feeling lost, scared, and alone.

 

 

“Stevie, your turn,” Justin called from beside the treadmill. Hunter stepped off. Sweat ran down his face, falling onto his T-shirt, soaking it. He had been a part of our group for a week now and both of us had been able to avoid each other. We had yet to exchange a word. “Hunter, stretch out with Jaymerson. Your legs are going to cramp.”

Until now.

I dropped Stevie’s leg, turning to Justin, my mouth opened to object or come up with some excuse.

“I can stretch out by myself.” Hunter wiped his face with his shirt, beating me to it.

“That’s nice for you.” Justin’s tone conveyed Hunter better walk his butt right over to me. Quickly. “Stevie. Now.”

Stevie rolled up. “Keep your panties on.” She sauntered over to the trainer. “Or better yet, don’t.” She laughed and winked at him.

Hunter’s forehead furrowed, the sides of his mouth inching down in annoyance. He limped over, keeping his gaze from me. He made a noise and lowered himself onto the mat. A wince of pain cut across his features. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling but otherwise didn’t speak or move.

“Your leg.” I huffed, lifting my hand. His eyes darted to me, more lines descended down his brow. It was a moment before he lifted his leg, placing his heel in my palm. A nerve twitched in his jaw, and he blew out air.

The fantasy of shoving his leg back toward his head, inflicting tremendous pain, blasted through my head, flinching my hands. I wanted to hurt him, to cause him agony. The same that consumed my heart. Most of the time I could block my emotions, but Hunter stirred them like an electric beater.

I bit down and lifted his leg to his limit.

“You want to hurt me right now, don’t you?” his gaze burned into me.

I almost dropped his leg with surprise.

“It’s all over your face. I know you hate me.” He kept his voice even, staring blankly at the ceiling again. “I don’t really care.”

“I think it’s better if we don’t talk. Or I might do something I’ll regret.”

It was so subtle I almost missed it, but his lips tilted with amusement.

“Go for it.” His smile was replaced with a stiff-lipped challenge. “Do your worst.”

My nails dug into his shoes. I took a staggered breath, trying to calm the raging beast inside. There was so much anger all the time.

“Always well behaved,” he taunted. Something deep in his eyes, an emotion, flittered through. “But I know there’s another side. Go ahead…” I dropped his leg. It slammed down on the mat. A grunt came from deep in his throat and his jaw snapped together. “Feel better?”

“Shut up,” I growled. “You think me hurting you is going to make me feel better?” It was exactly what I wanted to do.

Agony beaded in sweat along his hairline as he pushed himself up to his feet. His body leering over mine. “Yes,” he seethed. “You blame me for Colton.”

“No, I don’t.” Lie. I could sense the attention of others in the room, but nobody stepped in. “Okay, I did, but I don’t anymore.”

Hunter laughed sardonically. “Jesus, you can’t even be honest with yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hit me. Kick me. Get it out, because nothing you can do is going to make me feel worse than I already do.”

I could see Suzie move toward us out of my peripheral vision. Justin shook his head, halting her.

“Now you’re sorry? When it’s too late?” My hands fisted in a ball. “You didn’t seem to have any problem using Colton when he was alive.”

Hunter’s shoulder’s stiffened. “Is that what you think?”

“Yes!” I screamed. Even with the memory of how our fight ended last time, I couldn’t stop the hate from leaping back out. “If he were still alive, would you feel so horrible? No! You’d continue to use him to bail you out. And he would have let you.”

Hunter’s entire body went rigid. “You righteous bitch,” he growled. “You know nothing…and see even less.”

My fist smashed into his chest. “I see you just fine, asshole.”

“Do it,” he sneered. “Let’s see if you feel better or if it puts me in the grave instead of Colton.”

I struck out, hitting his chest over and over. Hunter clenched his muscles, taking every blow, until energy leaked from me, turning my punches into soft taps. I let my arms drop, leaned over my legs, and gulped in staggered breaths. I still wouldn’t let a tear fall from my eyes, but my throat quaked with unreleased sadness.

The room was silent and still around us, as everyone waited and watched. The tension choked the air between us like smoke.

“I’m sorry.” Hunter’s voice was deep and controlled. “But if it makes you feel better, I hate myself more. No matter what you think of me, I loved my brother, and there isn’t a moment goes by I don’t wish he was here. Or I could take his spot. For everyone’s sake.” Hunter swiveled around and hobbled for the door.

When the door shut behind him, a mass of loathing clogged my esophagus. For myself. No matter what kind of person Hunter was, he had lost his brother, his twin. That level of pain had to be unbearable.

Stevie was right. Blaming him didn’t bring Colton back. It only left me feeling emptier inside.