Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

Holland

I take the turn into the Blackburn driveway too fast, the tail end of my car skidding slightly. The call I'd received from Ethan sent me into a panic. I'd been in bed, reading a book and feeling for the first time in a very long time that my life had purpose and direction.

Ethan's number wasn't in my phone. He'd been so much older than us growing up and there was always a divide. There was never any reason to have his number when I got my first phone or when I left Kentucky. Certainly, there'd been no reason since, so I almost didn't answer the unrecognized number.

But there was something about receiving a call at almost midnight that had my hair standing on end. It was with dread that I answered. "Hello?"

"Holland… it's Ethan. Something bad has happened."

His voice was raw and warbled with emotion. I'm not sure everything he said, but I got the gist.

Wade.

Accident.

Dead.

Poor Ethan, the anointed prince of Blackburn who had the responsibility of running the entire farm on his shoulders, was the one who took the responsibility to call me. It never crossed my mind as being weird that Trey didn't call. In fact, I imagine he was probably incapable of doing much of anything. Given how close they were, and the rift between them recently, I could only guess that Trey was a mess.

Ethan told me to come to the house and I pull in too fast, braking hard so I don't hit Gabe's Ferrari. I jump out of the car, spring to the double front doors and don't bother knocking. I lurch into the foyer, head spinning, and take in how utterly quiet it is. No conversation, no crying.

Just… nothing.

I don't see anyone in the formal room and head for the kitchen, the preferred gathering places for all happy things. In there I find Tommy, Ethan, Marcie, Kat and Gabe sitting at the table. Miranda quietly patters around, putting together food and sniffling back tears. There are coffee cups in front of everyone but no one is drinking, and no one is talking. They all look so devastatingly lost, they seem almost inanimate.

It's Tommy's eyes that land on me when I enter. He slowly rises from the table, the man who just lost a son, and moves to embrace me in a warm hug. It's the first time tears come to my eyes and I let out a forceful sob into his chest.

"I'm so sorry," I mumble into him.

His hand cups the back of my head for a short time and then he releases me. I look around at who's not here. "How's Fi doing?"

"Not well, as you can imagine. She had a bit of an episode at the emergency room and they gave her something to calm her down. She's mercifully sleeping right now."

My heart was crushed before but now it tears into tatters as I think of how awful this is for Fi. No parent should lose a child, and I rub my knuckles over my breastbone because I physically ache for her.

I look back to the table, to Ethan and Kat staring blankly at their cups. Gabe has his arm around Kat's shoulders, but he looks shell-shocked. My gaze goes back to Tommy. "And Trey?"

I didn't think Tommy could look any more morose for a man who just lost his youngest son, but his face crumples. "He's on the back patio. Hasn't said a word since we found out."

I turn that way, but Tommy grabs my hand to halt me. "Holland… he's more than just broken up. He thinks this is his fault."

"But how could it be?" I ask with a frown.

"They got into a big fight about… well, you know what it was. Wade stormed out of the house, Trey went after him. He came upon the scene and…" His words choke off as tears fill his eyes. My hand grips his tightly. "He was there with Wade. Saw him like that. Couldn't help him. He's taking all the blame."

"I'll fix that," I say smoothly… resolutely. "He can't do that to himself."

"I hope you can make him see that," Tommy murmurs, squeezing my hand one more time before letting me go. He turns for the table, slumps into a chair and joins the heartbroken silence of the others.

I move through the back den area, out the double French doors to the patio. It's pitch-black past the patio but tiny solar lights around the perimeter create the silhouette outline of Trey's form sitting in a low-slung Adirondack chair.

I approach hesitantly, not knowing what I'll say or even how to act. I sense the tension in the space between us and it feels dark and dangerous.

"Hey, babe," I say gently, moving to the side of his chair and crouching next to him.

His face is slack, eyes almost dead, and he doesn't even look at me. Just stares straight ahead, out into the black beyond.

Tears spring to my eyes as I take in the man I love who is hurting so very badly. I rise, grab a wooden footstool that goes to the chair he's sitting in, and pull it up in between his legs before taking a seat. Trey is cocked back, slumped with his hands on the armrests. I press my palms onto his knees because he makes no move to touch me, nor does he even look at me, despite the fact I'm in his direct line of sight now.

He looks through me.

"Trey," I say, my voice hoarse with nerves. "I'm so sorry about Wade. I don't know the right thing to say, but I want to comfort you." Dead eyes staring. "I can't even comprehend how you're feeling but I imagine very broken right now." Silence. I squeeze his knees. "I know how much you loved him. I did too, and I'm just heartbroken."

Trey's eyes slowly focus in on me, his mouth drawn in a flat line. "I didn't love him nearly enough. And he hated me."

My eyebrows knit together. "He did not hate you. Why would you say that?"

"I didn't say that. He did. And he was right… because I lied to him. I hurt him."

"No," I exclaim, gripping his thighs. "You did the best you could at the time, and you apologized."

It's like he doesn't hear me. "I didn't take into account his feelings. I played it wrong."

"No," I insist with a shake of my head, panic clawing at my throat. His tone is defensive, angry. "You didn't do anything wrong, Trey. You followed your heart with me and—"

"It killed Wade," he growls, standing up so abruptly from the chair I nearly fall over. I balance myself and slowly rise to find him standing a few feet away. "I chose you over Wade and that's my cross to bear because I knew it would cause a rift. But I'm the one who drove him out of the house, trying to make him see reason when I should have just left him alone." He sucks in air through his nose, his voice rising as he exhales. "I shouldn't have been so fucking determined to make him be okay with all this. I wanted so bad to just have my life with you that I didn't consider how badly he might be feeling. I pushed, and I pushed, and I pushed. Had I just left it alone, he'd still be at our house right now, sleeping in his bed."

His last words come out in an accusatory bark of pain. "Instead, I just had to be right this time and now he's in a goddamn mortuary and he's never waking up again, Holland."

I'm stunned silent. Those were a lot of dark feelings to unpack and I can't tell how much of Wade's death he's pinning on himself for getting into an argument tonight or on our relationship.

I'm afraid to ask for clarification but I need to. I don't know how to help him until I can understand the deepest source of his guilt. "When you say had I just left it alone , are you talking about the renewal of our relationship or the argument tonight?"

Trey is stopped from answering as the back door opens and I turn to see Tommy standing there. "Trey… the sheriff is here with information about the accident. I thought you might want to hear it."

Trey rubs both hands over his face and nods as they drop away. He walks past me without an ounce of regard and Tommy's eyes are worried as he makes contact with mine. He jerks his head, indicating I should come too, and I follow them both into the house.

In the kitchen, our county sheriff, Miles Templedon, stands at the counter just accepting a cup of coffee from Miranda. Ethan, Kat and Gabe still sit at the table, but they look more alert now, faces tense with apprehension over what they might hear.

The sheriff turns to Tommy and puts his hand on his shoulder. "Sorry you had to go through this tonight. Wade was a fine young man." He turns to look around at the family. "My deepest condolences."

Tommy nods and Trey crosses his arms over his chest. I move to his side, ignore the standoffish vibes he's releasing, and rest my hand on his back for support.

The sheriff takes a sip of the coffee and puts the cup on the counter. "I wanted to let you know that our preliminary investigation is done and it looks like Wade wasn't at fault. We took blood samples from both drivers. The other driver was legally drunk, but Wade barely registered… only a 0.01 percent."

I watch Trey closely, hoping that will relax his stiff shoulders, but he stares at the sheriff impassively.

"Wade's truck was fully in his lane of travel and based on the skid marks, the damage to the vehicles and where the other car ended up, it's clear the other driver came over into Wade's lane." The sheriff turns to Tommy, speaks to him directly. "There was nothing Wade could have done to avoid it. And I'm confident he didn't contribute to it."

Kat emits a small sob and I twist my neck to see her quietly crying into Gabe's chest. I don't know if that's a comfort to everyone or not. I don't know what any of it means.

Tommy's eyes are watery as he nods. "I appreciate you coming out here to tell us that, Miles."

They shake hands. "Give Fi my best. Let me know if there's anything me or Alicia can do for you."

I'm guessing Alicia is his wife. I don't know the sheriff but clearly the Blackburns do.

Tommy walks him out and I hear them murmuring quietly for a few more minutes at the door. Ethan gets up from the table, moves over to the coffee pot where Miranda pours him another cup. She pats his arm before he goes to stand at the sink, looking out over the darkened backyard.

I rub Trey's lower back, but he steps away from me. "I'm going home," he announces.

That gets everyone's attention. It's Ethan who speaks. "You should stay the night, Trey. Be with your family." His eyes cut over to me. "You stay too, Holland."

I nod but I'm stunned when Trey turns on his heel and walks out of the kitchen. I stare at Ethan in shock before I jump into action, scurrying after Trey.

I see him heading out the front door, past Tommy and the sheriff who are still talking. They both step back to let Trey through and I run after him, catching a bewildered but concerned look from Tommy. "I got this," I say, as I brush past both men.

Trey is halfway to his truck by the time I'm flying down the porch steps. "Trey… wait."

I expect him to ignore me but instead, he stops and turns to face me. "What?"

"What?" I exclaim, coming toe to toe with him. I put my hands on his chest. "What do you mean what ? Talk to me, Trey. Please tell me how to help you."

It seems his hardened expression might crack. I see indecision in his eyes, perhaps fear, and what I'm hoping is any sort of vulnerability I can seize.

"Holland," he says quietly, his voice rough. My fingers clutch into his shirt. Yes, I'm here for you. "I can't do this with you."

My hands drop away. "What?" I whisper.

He shakes his head as if he's not quite sure he understands the why of it, but only the how. "Twice now, we tried. Twice Wade got in the way, and this last time, it cost him his life."

"No, it did not," I snarl, taking a step back. I'm livid that he'd lay any of this on my doorstep. "Us being in love and acting on that had nothing to do with Wade's death."

"Fine. It was all me then," he says flatly. "I was stupid to even think a second chance was a good idea when our first chance proved to be a disaster."

"Don't say that," I snap.

"I just said it. And I mean it."

"You just need some time to process—"

"No, I don't," he says quietly, hastily looking past me to the house, then back to lock eyes with mine. "I know this might be hard for you to understand, but I firmly believe that Wade would be alive today if I had just kept my fucking distance from you."

"You don't know that."

"I do. Because if I had kept my distance from you, he would have never caught us together, never gotten mad, never fought with me and never stormed out that door, putting him into the path of a drunk driver."

"That could have easily happened had you not had a fight with him, Trey," I exclaim in frustration, throwing my hands wide. "We never know when our time is up, but I know for sure that you didn't play any hand in the shitty cards fate dealt tonight. Now I'm going to do you a solid and leave you alone. I'm going to get in my car and leave right now, and I'm hoping after a good night's sleep, you'll understand that you are not to blame. That you are alive and I am here waiting for you."

His gaze falls away.

"Trey," I say quietly, but he won't look at me. "I love you. I'll always love you. And I'll take a step back until you're brave enough to understand it's okay to love me in return."

I don't wait for a reply. I turn for my car and give Trey the space he obviously needs.