35. Chapter Thirty-five

Something about this place, combined with the three of us, just…clicked. Sunday, we'd spent hiking. Daisy had complained the trails were too flat, and Reed had muttered about wide open spaces, but once we'd reached our lookout destination and taken in the views, they'd both shut their complaining little mouths. Reed had even screwed up his face when we'd taken a silly selfie.

Then we'd parked our asses on the patio of a tap house and had spent the rest of the day there. Not the usual spot for a fourteen-year-old, a non-drinker, and a sober person, but they had good pretzels, outdoor games, and the vibe was relaxed.

Nothing like spending the day in the sun with people you loved.

On Monday, Daisy had to get work done, so Reed and I left her in the penthouse to explore a paved trail by the river.

I pulled into a parking spot, and Reed frowned. "This isn't the trailhead."

"Nope. We're stopping here first."

"The Humane Society? You're adopting a dog?"

"I'm not, unfortunately. Maybe one day. Today, we're going to borrow a dog."

"Wha—it's not a library."

"True. But this Humane Society has a program where you can borrow a dog for the day. Take them on walks and give them freedom. What do you say?"

"What makes you think I like dogs?"

I patted his shoulder. "You're a cool guy. No way you don't."

Actually, I had no idea. I'd read about this program while I'd been checking out what Sacramento had to offer. I was here for me. I wanted to play with a dog or two. Reed also enjoying it had been an afterthought—not that I would ever tell him that.

In the end, Reed was the one to select Solomon, the somber, snow-white greyhound who hadn't even gotten up to sniff us through the glass when we'd put our fingers through the holes. He'd only started to perk up when we'd gotten him to the trail and let him explore. Since he'd started sniffing every surface and cranny, his tail hadn't stopped wagging.

We ventured off the trail on a dirt path to the river, and Solomon splashed around, yipping and bounding like a puppy. I'd never heard Reed laugh like he did when the damn dog rolled his long body in the dirt then stood up, looking like he'd bathed in mud.

"The shelter didn't mention having to return him clean, did they?"

Reed huffed a laugh. "If they did, I didn't hear anything about it."

I pointed to the river. "Solomon, go clean yourself off!"

The big, goofy dog seemed to understand me, trotting back to the water and stomping around. He was having the time of his life.

"I already feel like shit giving him back," Reed said.

"Same, kid. Maybe he'll hang onto the happiness he's feeling for a while and some lucky family will come in, see a smiley good boy, and want him."

He kicked a rock, sending it skittering off the paved path. "Sucks he has to be cheerful for someone to like him. Can't just be himself."

"Nah. We liked him, didn't we? It just took the right people seeing the potential in him." I thought we might've been talking about more than the dog. "We took one look at him and knew we wanted to hang out with him, right?"

"Why'd you want to hang out with him? Was it pity?"

Definitely not talking about the dog.

"Look, Reed. You and I get along because we're straight with each other, right?"

He nodded once.

"I'm thinking you want to know why I'm hanging out with you, yeah?"

Averting his eyes, he nodded again.

"Right. I get that. You might be surprised, but you remind me a lot of me when I was your age. Different outside vibes, but very similar on the inside. I had a lot of friends, but I never felt like any of them knew me. My older brother couldn't stand being around me, and my parents were too caught up in hating each other to give me the attention I'd been begging for."

His eyes slid my way. "Did people give you shit at school?"

I shook my head. I really hated to admit this to him, but since we were doing the whole honesty thing, I went all in.

"I went the opposite direction and lashed out before anyone could come at me."

His brow furrowed deeply. "You were a bully?"

"I didn't think of myself as that back then, but yeah. For the most part, I did it to make people laugh. If they were laughing with me, they weren't laughing at me, you know? I didn't think about what I was doing or who I was hurting. I just didn't want to be hurt anymore, and that was all I could do to protect myself."

"That's stupid," he bit out.

"No kidding. You know who I was the worst to?"

He shook his head, his jaw rippling. He was pissed at me, and I deserved it.

"My sister-in-law—the woman my brother married. I was a little shit to her and got other people in on it. They took what I'd started and ran with it."

His frown was deep and thoughtful. Like he was trying to figure it all out. "Weren't you in their wedding? The best man or something?"

"I was. Elise forgave me. Weston too. I'll never think I deserve it, but I'm glad they're better people than me."

He kicked another rock. "You think I should forgive the people who mess with me?"

"Are they sorry? Have they done anything to earn your forgiveness?"

"No," he uttered.

"Then hell no." Taking a chance, I reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "But don't let those little shits change you. I see you, Reed. You're cool, creative, and your family loves the hell out of you. High school is a blip—"

"My sister, Quinn, didn't make it out of high school. People don't think I hear things, but I do. Her accident, as they call it, wasn't so accidental. The kids she hung out with, they kept daring her to do dangerous things, and she'd wanted to fit in so badly, she did them. The last one? They dared her to dive off this bridge. People jump off it sometimes, but only when the water's high enough. It was too low when Quinny went over. I heard my parents talking. They don't know if she jumped or was pushed. They'll never know because those kids all had the same story—that it was Quinn's idea."

He scoffed, but it was thick, bitterness giving way to a wave of grief.

"Either way, high school killed her, right? All the pressure to fit in, the shitty people, false friends, it all came down on her and broke my sister's neck."

He fell down on his ass before I could grab him to stop it from happening. I flopped down in the dirt next to him and rested my hand on his back as he gulped heaving breaths.

"Breathe, Reed. Slow and steady, in and out."

His anguish had knocked me sideways. I'd known about Quinn, but not the details. Not how she'd died. No wonder Daisy didn't like talking about it, and given my history, why she'd been so wary of me. My guts churned with remorse for the careless way I'd tromped through my adolescence. My heart lurched for Reed, living in the shadow of his sister's death, struggling to get through the same years she hadn't.

And my Daisy…she loved her family fiercely. Losing Quinn must've broken parts of her.

Solomon edged closer to us. When he was in front of Reed, he dropped to his belly and rested his narrow head on Reed's legs. Reed responded immediately, digging his fingers into Sol's short fur and scratching him behind his ears. The dog's tail was a metronome, ticking back and forth at a steady, even pace. Eventually, Reed's rapid breathing slowed to line up with it.

"Good boy," I murmured. "What a good dog you are, Sol."

"I don't know why I just dumped all that out," Reed rasped.

"You needed to get it out. I'm glad you did."

He slid a glance my way. "Would you have dared your sister-in-law to jump off a bridge?"

"I can honestly say I wouldn't have. I made fun of her in what I thought was a funny way because I was an idiot. No way in hell I ever wanted to see any harm come to her. Or anyone."

"But you hurt her."

"Yeah, I did. If I could have looked past my own inner turmoil, I would have seen that back then. Daring someone to jump into shallow water, though? That's insidious. I can't tell you how sorry I am you lost Quinn that way."

"I'm sorry too. I wish I'd been older so I could have known her better. We all thought we had time. Even though our family deals with death every day, it was a surprise when it touched us."

There wasn't much more to say after that. We sat with Solomon for a while, watching the water stream by and patting our borrowed dog.

On the way back to the car, I knocked into Reed with my shoulder. "What happened to your Andes vest?"

His breath hitched and he swallowed hard. "I, uh—can you not tell Daisy?"

"I can't make that promise until I know what happened."

"I just don't want her to worry. She worries enough." He sighed, his hand tightening around Sol's leash. "A couple idiots from school noticed me wearing it all the time and just took it—slipped it right off me and trashed it. They poured milk on it, ripped it, stomped on it, spit on it, then they gave it back."

Anger boiled in my gut. I'd been afraid something like this had happened, but to hear him casually describe these kids taking an item of clothing off him and maliciously ruining it made me want to do violence. I'd been a prick in school, but nothing I'd done had ever come close to that.

"Give me names, Reed. I'll take care of it."

He shrugged. "They left me alone after that. Guess they didn't like me having something I was proud of. I don't know."

"I'll get you a new one. If you don't want them to see you in it, you can wear it on the weekends."

His head was bowed, but I saw the smile hinting at the corners of his mouth. "That might be all right…"

"It's done."

Daisy rarely squealed, but a napping, dirty Sol curled up in the backseat of my rental got her going.

"Miles! I love him. What did you do?" She couldn't tear her eyes off him.

"We borrowed him for adventures." I draped my arm over her shoulders and looked at the muddy dog like a proud dad. "Reed and I hadn't been counting on Sol becoming our bestie today, though."

"How could you have looked at that weirdly shaped body and pretty face and not known you'd get attached?" She shook her head. "He's perfect asleep. I'm sure he's even better awake."

"Now, we have to take him back." Reed peered down at him through the open door, filled with regret. "He'll hang on to the happiness."

He turned back to me, and I nodded in confirmation. We loaded Sol and ourselves up. Reed had unloaded a lot of what he'd been holding in, trusting me to take it, and despite how tragic his revelations and been, he was lighter now. I could almost see his spine straightening and his shoulders leveling out.

Made me feel really good to have done that for him.

From the brow she raised, Daisy must've noticed too.

"He's good," I mouthed.

She mimed wiping her forehead with the back of her hand and mouthed back, "Phew."

When Solomon woke a minute later, raring to go, Reed took him for one last walk, giving me a chance to fill her in.

I leaned against the SUV, and Daisy leaned against me. "You guys had a good day, huh?"

"Something about this place." I gave her a soft kiss. "He told me about Quinny."

Her mouth formed a little O. "What did he tell you?"

"About the bridge. That your parents don't know if she was pushed or jumped."

"Oh." Her teeth clamped on her bottom lip. "I didn't know he knew that."

"Yeah." I rolled my forehead along hers. Seeing her sad was akin to having my skin stripped from my bones. "I'm so sorry, Daisy."

"I miss her a lot."

"I think Reed does too."

She exhaled. "Of course he does. We don't talk about her enough. I have so many Quinny stories. He's going to be sick of me talking about her by the time I run out."

A stretch of silence lingered, the knowledge that eventually, no matter how many stories she had, she would run out sitting heavily between us.

"Thank you for listening to him."

"You don't have to thank me. That's what family does, right?"

She tipped her head back, and the corners of her mouth curved. "Yeah, Miles. That's what family does."