CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Grant
I wanted to shout at her to stop.
I wanted to shout at him to go.
From the moment Nash came barreling down the steps and tossed out his apologies, I’d known.
I’d known from the way Journey had stiffened in my arms. I’d known from the expression in her eyes. I’d known when she pressed her lips to mine as if she was kissing me for the last time.
Things would never be the same.
As if her legs had turned to water, she sagged backward and would have fallen had I not supported her from behind. Her heart was that of a cornered rabbit. It was pounding so hard and so fast that I could feel it beating in my own chest.
The words were unnecessary, but I cleared my throat, choking down the bile that wanted to escape. “Nash, this is Journey.”
My very best friend in the world ran a hand through his hair before meeting my eyes. “Yeah, man. Dammit. I know.”
A bubble of air escaped Journey’s mouth — a laugh, a sob, a combination of every emotion a person could feel.
“I didn’t know.”
The words were so soft they barely registered, but I understood. Over her head, I looked at my friend. He just gave his head a little shake. It was clear he was asking the same question as me.
How had this happened?
When her legs gave and I took more of Journey’s weight, I scooped her up into my arms and carried her over to the sofa.
“Will you pour her a brandy?”
Nash was already heading to the bar before all the words were out. He not only poured the requested brandy, but two tall glasses of scotch for us as well.
I took the brandy and held it to Journey’s lips. She sniffed, wrinkled her nose, then took a tentative taste when I forced the issue. She coughed, spit, and sputtered, but at least she was doing something besides looking catatonic.
I spoke to Nash in a low voice. “Go ask Ray and Anne to leave everything as it is. Tell them they have the rest of the evening off and to please not disturb us.”
He nodded and headed to the kitchen, and I took the moment of privacy to turn Journey’s face until she looked at me.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong here. Nothing. Can you hear me?”
Her eyes met mine for a fleeting moment before she shook her head. “I… I don’t know how this happened. I can’t be this person. I can’t separate friends. I would have never…” Tears leaked past the rapidly blinking eyes. “I… don’t know what to say.”
If a lion’s claw had ripped through my heart, it wouldn’t have been shredded any more than it was while witnessing Journey’s anguish.
Setting the brandy down, I gave her a different type of warmth by pulling her close to me, tucking her under my arm. “Journey, I don’t know how this happened either. I knew Nash was seeing someone. He knew I was seeing someone. We never went in-depth about anything. Hell… we’ve barely seen each other in the past few weeks, and if either of us had done something so simple as open our mouths and said your unusual name out loud, we would have known it was you. But we didn’t. So, here we are.”
Her trembling began to ease, her breathing not such a rapid in and out. “What does that even mean, Grant? We’re here where?”
“This place.” I pressed my lips to her hair. “And it will be okay.”
She pulled away and turned until she faced me, the lights catching the shine of her silky blue dress. “How? How is this okay with you? I’ve been sleeping with your best friend and you don’t even seem to…” She searched my face. Searched for some word. Settled on, “Care.”
That pissed me off. “I do care. I care for your happiness and you seemed happy with our arrangement. I set aside any personal feelings in order for you to live life as you choose. I never judged you or asked for more.”
She blinked at me and stood. “Well, maybe that’s the problem.”
It was my turn to blink, to stand. As expressive as her face was, I couldn’t read her now. “Spell it out, Journey. Describe this problem in exact detail so I can understand what’s in your head.”
“She wants you to care about her, dickhead,” Nash said, coming back into the room. He made his way around the sofa, coming to stand behind Journey. When he put his hands on her shoulders, she turned into his arms, her body shaking. I just stared.
Wanting to punch my fist through a wall, I picked up my scotch instead, tossing back the entire contents even as I headed to the bar for more.
My teeth squeaked from where I was grinding them together so hard. Nash was running his hands up and down her back, his lips in her hair, saying things I couldn’t hear. I tossed another inch of scotch back. Damn. He cared for her too.
And she returned his affection. It was clear in the way she leaned into him.
She cared for us both because that was who she was. A good person. A caring person. Loving and sweet and…
Dammit. Why did this hurt so fucking much?
As I stood and watched my best friend comfort and soothe the woman I’d allowed into my heart, I felt like that boy in the water again… in shock, unable to believe everything happening in front of him, not knowing how to make it better…
“It’s my birthday,” I whined. “I only get to turn thirteen once. I want to ride by myself.”
My dad frowned at me. “It would be nice if you’d share.”
I looked over at my pesky little brother, who was giving me his patented ‘I’m going to get what I want and you can’t stop me’ smirk. I gave him the evil eye and he stuck out his tongue. What a little asshole. I had to share everything with him.
Mom stepped in, running her hands through my hair. I pulled away. I wasn’t a baby anymore. I was a teenager. “How about Grant takes the first ride by himself, and then Gav can join him for the second?”
“What about me?”
That came from my little cousin, Samantha, who was only six and already annoying too.
I looked at my aunt and uncle, who gave me a hopeful look. “Fine,” I muttered. “She can ride the third ride with me.”
This was turning into the lamest birthday ever.
I’d wanted a big party with my friends, but no… Mom thought it would be fun to rent this big party barge pontoon boat thing and have a big family event on the lake. So, here I was, with all four of my grandparents, three aunts, and two uncles. With my mom, dad, brother, and two cousins, the boat was packed with my entire family. Well, my littlest cousin was just a baby, but he took up more room than anybody with a little crib and swing and all the millions of baby stuff that came with him.
Yes. This was lame.
At least the burgers were good, and the pile of presents I hadn’t opened yet looked promising. And now, I’d get a little peace to myself.
I waited for Dad to secure the rope and toss out the big tube that came with the boat. Pontoons weren’t like speedboats or anything, but it could go fast enough to catch a little wind.
“Here’s your lifejacket, sweetie,” Mom said, holding the blue vest in her hands.
“Mooom,” I whined. “I don’t need that. I’m a teenager.”
She didn’t even blink. Just held the blue jacket from the tip of her finger.
“Fine.”
Stuffing my arms in the holes, I buckled the front and then suffered through the humiliation of Mom tightening it. Before I could pull away, she buzzed a quick kiss to my forehead. “Got ya,” she smiled, but she looked a little sad too. “You’ve grown up so fast. It’s like I blinked and you’re practically a man.”
Ha. I was a man. I had three pubes to prove it.
“Here you go.”
Dad tossed out the tube, and I stepped to side of the boat to dive in. “Have fun,” Grandpa called. I turned back and waved. Everyone was smiling at me. Well, everyone except Gav.
I dove into the water, swam to the float, and pulled myself up, holding the handles tight.
Dad moved to the controls, looked back at me. I gave him a thumbs-up.
And we were off. Well, we were moving, anyway. With so many people, it would take a little bit to hit full speed of twenty-two miles an hour. Dad told me that when he let me drive earlier. Maybe he’d let me drive more a little later.
At the boat, Mom was videotaping me, and I waved at the camera so she would be happy.
The water was warm, the sun shining above us. I started leaning toward the right, and the tube adjusted, bouncing over the wake. At the back of the boat, Samantha had come to watch, and clapped when I made the tube bounce over the wave again.
This was fun.
Dad talked about getting a boat for us to fish in, but one that could pull riders too. He said we’d make enough profit from the house we were flipping for a good down payment. And…
The roar of engines had me looking up from where I was planning my next wave jump. There was a little island we were hooking around, and two speedboats were coming around the other side.
They were going fast. Really fast. They were racing.
Didn’t they see us?
The collision was like a bomb as the two speedboats plowed into the pontoon in front of me. My mom was there, and then she wasn’t. Samantha and all the others were gone too. Just gone.
Pain exploded through me, shattering the disbelief and horror as the propeller of one of the boats slammed into my chest and rode up my face. Later, I thought that God or whoever runs the controls of our lives wasn’t satisfied that an entire family was murdered on a bright, sunny day. That piece of metal came straight at me. No, God thought, the boy in the back needed to go too.
But the angle had been wrong and instead of cutting off my head like it should have done, it left its mark and left me alive as the lone survivor of the Epic Family Tragedy.
That was what the media called it as reporters spoke breathlessly into cameras, telling the world of how fourteen family members were killed by drunken teenagers out for a little thrill.
I’d been too badly injured to attend any of the funerals, and by the time I was released following three surgeries and weeks of rehab, the media had shown little interest in the lone survivor. There had only been a few snapping pictures as I was wheeled from the hospital to a waiting car to be driven to a stranger’s home as a ward of the state.
In a matter of second, I’d gone from being a son, a brother, a grandson, nephew and cousin to being an orphan. And when I stood at their graves that first time, I swore I’d never let anyone get so close. I never wanted to feel that pain again. That guilt.
Nash had snuck in. His mom and dad too.
At times, even having those three felt like too much responsibility. Too much risk.
If something happened to one of them…
I stared at my friend. Something was happening to one of them. Nash cared for her.
Her.
Journey.
She cared for him too.
I should just walk away. Leave. Let them be happy together. They were two happy people who deserved other happy people in their lives.
Yes, that was what I should do.
Setting down my glass, I turned and headed to my bedroom, closing the door softly behind me before walking to the windows to look out onto the world.
It was better this way.
Maybe one day, I’d believe it.