40. Chapter Forty

"We should take Reed on another trip before school starts." I glanced over at Daisy curled up in my passenger seat, looking at me like she loved me.

Because she did.

If I'd had any doubts, they'd been laid to rest. After realizing my mother was trying to sabotage Grazing, Daisy had had every reason to throw her hands up and tell me it was too much for her—that I wasn't worth the baggage of a toxic mother. Instead, she'd held me closer. Reminded me at every turn I wasn't responsible for my mother's actions and we would figure out our next steps together.

In the days after, I'd been tempted to take action. To call a lawyer, a reporter, to call my fuckwit father. It had taken a call with Weston to calm me. He'd reminded me he hadn't heard a single word from our mother after the Denver Life article because she was well aware he wouldn't give her the drama she craved.

So, taking a note from my big brother's playbook, I remained quiet. It wasn't easy for a man like me. Luckily, I had the most distracting woman who liked to keep me on my toes.

"I'd love that.I think the vibes from our last trip are wearing off. Mama said she had to drag him to class this morning and he's been looking forward to it all summer."

"Hmmm." I drummed my thumbs on the steering wheel. "Wonder what that's about. I talked to him Sunday night, and he was practically vibrating with excitement."

"Maybe he'll tell us when we ply him with junk food."

Whitney Mae hadn't been able to leave the funeral home, so we'd been tapped in to grab Reed from day two of his summer music class.

I parked the car, and Daisy and I got out. We'd been hoping he might've been able to let us listen to what he'd been creating, but when we walked into the classroom he was supposed to be in, only a couple kids remained, and none were Reed.

A man with a goatee and shaggy, salt-and-pepper hair approached us. "Hey, are you picking someone up?"

"Yes. My brother, Reed Dunham. Our mom put my name on the list of approved—"

"Some wires must've gotten crossed. Reed isn't here today." The man clucked his tongue. "It's a shame. I recovered his beats that got deleted yesterday. I was looking forward to seeing what else he could do. Hopefully he'll be back tomorrow."

"Excuse me, what?" Daisy frowned. "My mother dropped him off here this morning. You're telling me he hasn't been here at all today?"

The man's brow dropped, and he rubbed the patch of hair under his lip. "No, he didn't show at all. I haven't seen him since yesterday afternoon."

"Why were his beats deleted?" I asked.

He shook his head. "A couple guys thought it would be funny to mess with Reed's computer when he got up. Let's just say, Reed didn't see the humor in it, and neither did I. In my class, we respect each other's creative efforts—"

Daisy and I got on the phone as soon as we were out of the building. She called her mom, and I dialed Reed. Whitney Mae picked up, but Reed's went straight to voicemail.

Me: Hey, kid. Where are you? Daisy and I were at class to pick you up.

Me: You're not going to be in trouble for bailing. We'll come get you, wherever you are.

Me: Let me know if you're safe. If you need some time, just tell me you're not in danger, and I'll give you the time you need.

"I'm worried," Daisy whispered.

"I know." I kissed her head. "What'd your mom say?"

"She's checking the house, his room. She'll check my place if he's not there."

"Good. Let's drive around here. Maybe he's hanging out somewhere and lost track of time."

We cruised up and down the road near the class, peering in windows of restaurants and fast-food joints. Tension filled the car. I wanted to tell Daisy I was sure Reed was fine, but I couldn't bring myself to when I didn't believe it.

He wasn't at home.

Not at Daisy's place either.

All of us had called him, but he wasn't picking up.

Daisy and I drove while Landry called his friends. We stopped in his favorite restaurants, a comic book store, the public library. We even swung by my house on the off chance he was hiding out there.

Nothing.

I sat in the driveway, helpless, while Daisy quietly spoke to her panicked mother. Dropping my head to the steering wheel, I tried to think like Reed.

Had he felt helpless like this when those kids deleted the beats he'd created? Had he been defeated when the one thing he'd looked forward to all summer was just a repeat of the bullying bullshit he'd been dished out at school?

Probably, yeah.

Where would he want to go, feeling like that?

Reed was a sensitive kid. Artistic. He wouldn't go sit in a greasy burger bar when his world was crumbling and he felt like he had no way to stop it.

He'd go somewhere meaningful. Somewhere—

"Daisy."

She lowered the phone from her ear. "Yes?"

"Where's the bridge?"

"Bridge?"

"Where Quinny died. Where is it?"

Her eyes rounded. "You think he's there?"

"I don't know, but I'm thinking we need to check."

It took a half hour to drive out to the bridge Quinn had died jumping from. I hated bringing Daisy here, but she'd insisted on coming with me. If Reed was here, even if the worst had happened, she wanted to see—to know.

I wasn't thinking too hard about that. If I did, I wouldn't be able to be steady for Daisy, and I'd promised I'd be that for her.

I parked in gravel and jumped out of the car. No one used this bridge anymore. I hadn't known it was here.

Weeds grew from cracks in the pavement, and trash huddled in corners. Our footsteps echoed on the cement as we started across.

I spotted him first, squeezing Daisy's hand hard. When she gasped, I knew she'd seen him too.

"Reed. Baby," she croaked thickly, not nearly loud enough for him to hear. It was a lament. A cry for the pain he must've been in to lead him here.

Reed was sitting on the ground in the middle of the bridge, his legs dangling over the side. He had to have heard us coming, but he was focused on the water below.

As we grew closer, the scene around him almost brought me to my knees. His backpack. A dog-eared paperback. A crumpled sack of fast food. A few empty, crushed soda cans. He had to have been here a while. All day, probably. And he was just a kid, not even fifteen years on this earth. He'd been here, suffering all alone, not knowing for certain he had at least two people he could've leaned on without question.

It killed me.

"What time is it?" he asked when we were next to him.

"Almost six," I replied.

"Huh. I didn't think it was so late."

I crouched down beside him, careful not to touch him. "Did you mean to come back before the end of camp?"

He shrugged. "I've been thinking about getting up for a while now, but I can't make myself do it."

"You don't have to get up," Daisy said softly. "We'll sit with you."

She scooted in beside him, her legs dangling half the length of his, and I took his other side.

"I'm not going back to that class."

"You don't have to," Daisy assured him. "We know what happened. You never have to go back there."

"I tried to tell Mama. She told me she'd paid a lot of money and I had to give it another chance."

"She didn't understand. I'm sure she does now." She hooked his pinkie with hers. "If there's a problem, I'll explain. I'll tell her about the kids who deleted the song you were working on."

He sucked in a jagged breath. "They're from my school, you know. They're not gonna forget how much they hate me. Even if I don't go back to class, I'll still have to face them."

I wanted to tell him if he gave us names, we'd go to the principal. I'd contact their parents. And if that didn't work, I would set about destroying their families piece by piece. But his shoulders were overburdened enough. He couldn't bear my anger, righteous or not.

"We'll find a way where that doesn't happen," Daisy said.

Reed lifted his head, his glazed eyes distant and unfocused. "I wanted to think about Quinn today. I wondered if she felt this…exhaustion from life that day. I wanted to look down at the shallow water and contemplate why that had been a better choice than staying and facing another day, another week—hell, two years of more of the same."

He turned to Daisy. "I got it. The consequences of making that jump had looked better than whatever had waited for her if she hadn't."

"Reed," Daisy choked out, devastation blooming from her like funeral flowers.

"I don't wanna die, but I don't wanna be here anymore either." Reed crammed the heel of his palm against his forehead. "Mama says to ride it out, and I tried, I really did, but I can't do it. I can't get up from here knowing I've got three more years of people hating me for nothing I've done."

"She doesn't get it, baby," Daisy murmured. "Neither of them do. That doesn't mean they don't love you. They just don't understand how bad it is."

He drew in a shaky breath. "I know. Dad has been in his own world his whole life. And Mama didn't grow up a Dunham. If she had, she never would have given you the initials ‘DED.' It's like she put a ‘kick me' sign on you."

Daisy put her head on her brother's shoulder. "I understand. Trust me, I do."

Reed grew quiet. I barely breathed while I waited for him to speak. I wished I knew what to do, how to handle this. My mind was stuck on committing violence. That wouldn't help Reed, though, and it would only make me feel better temporarily.

Reed inhaled sharply. "Do you think Quinn was scared?"

"Yeah. I think she was probably scared way before she stepped foot on this bridge," Daisy replied.

They were breaking my heart, these two. All I could do was be here, steady for them, while they faced down their sister's tragedy, and count my lucky stars Reed hadn't gone the same way. But he was on the edge. If today hadn't proven that, I didn't know what would. Something big had to be done. A change had to be made. This…misery was un-fucking-tenable.

"I'm scared," he admitted.

She nodded. "I am too."

He exhaled a long, exhausted breath and let his head fall on top of hers. "I don't know what to do, Daze."

"Listen to me, Reed." She took his hand and held it against her cheek. "I promise you the solution will not be to ride it out. If you figure out a way to get up, we'll take you home and talk until we have a plan."

I squeezed Reed's shoulder. "If you let me, I'll be there to help. Plans are my thing."

"Okay." He picked his head up and turned to me. "How much trouble do you think I'm going to be in?"

I gave his cheek a pat. "None. This is probably the one time you'll get off scot-free for scaring the shit out of your family. Everyone's going to be too relieved you're in one piece to be angry."

"I didn't mean to scare them."

"I know you didn't," I told him. "You're a good guy. We all know that."

"I needed to think about Quinny. About her last day. That's all."

"Did you get enough thinking done? Are you ready to go home? I'm sure Sol's bladder's about to burst. You're gonna have to take him for a walk as soon as we get there."

A concrete task lit him up and gave him a reason to move his body. His climb was slow, but he got to his feet with Daisy bracing him. I grabbed his backpack and bag of trash, then I threw my arm around his shoulders.

"You're important to a lot of people, kid." I didn't recognize the gruffness of my voice, thick with fear and myriad emotions I couldn't name. "Including me. Next time you need to think about Quinny, or anything, let me know."

He nodded. "I will."

Daisy squeezed him from the other side. "Let's go home."