Chapter 40 Braedyn
brAEDYN
Skylar skipped ahead of us, chattering to Yeti as if the dog could understand each and every word she spoke.
She was completely oblivious to the fact that we’d all been scared out of our minds for her.
Though maybe that was the best thing. A gentle yet strong word from Kol about not running into the woods might be all that was needed.
And bully Max was so embarrassed and possibly still terrified about Dex’s threats that I was starting to feel bad for him. He trudged along between Skylar and us, his head bowed, staring at his shoes.
But the moment we broke through the tree line, Kol was running at his daughter full tilt.
Suddenly, the amusement of how we’d found the two kids was gone, and I was reminded of everything that had been at stake.
Memories of the search after Nova’s disappearance flashed in my mind.
How much I wished for this sort of reunion.
Skylar giggled as her dad lifted her into the air and held her to him. But it was the way Kol’s body shook with silent sobs that had me almost breaking on the spot.
“Daddy?” Skylar asked, confused. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, baby. Nothing now.” He held her for a long time, and I knew he was coming to terms with being faced with his worst nightmares only to make it out the other side.
Dex’s arm slid around my shoulders, pulling me to him as he brushed his lips across my temple. “We’re going to find you answers, too.”
Him knowing where my mind had gone—to Nova, always to Nova—was a gift. But I couldn’t help noticing that he hadn’t promised me a happy ending like Kol had gotten.
Kol’s hazel gaze lifted to me. “Thank you,” he croaked. “Anything you need. Anything at all. It’s yours. You found my girl.”
“You don’t need to say that,” I rasped. “I’m happy to help.”
“I’m saying it anyway.” Kol’s eyes burned with something. Fear, I realized. And I understood it. A pressure came with being a single parent. Every decision was on your shoulders. And when something went awry, it could only be your fault. The weight was always heavier because you carried it alone.
“All I need is for you to take that girl out for a milkshake and have some time just the two of you,” I whispered.
“I wasn’t lost, Daddy. Just had some business to attend to.” Skylar glared at Max, whose head was still hung low.
Kol pulled back. “Some business to attend to?”
I got the sense he would’ve laughed if he hadn’t just been terrified out of his mind.
“Yeah, Max owes Owen an apology,” Skylar huffed.
Max’s cheeks heated, but before he could say a word, a woman started calling for him—his mother, I guessed. And she did not look happy.
Kol pinned his daughter with a hard stare. “Then you tell a camp counselor. You don’t chase someone into the woods.”
Skylar let out a huff. “Sometimes, you gotta stick up for what’s right.”
Kol’s mouth thinned. “We’ll talk about this at home.” His gaze flicked to me. “Thank you again. And Yeti, too.”
“You’re welcome.”
Kol was already pulling his phone out of his pocket as he shifted Sky in his arms. “I need to call Mav, Wylder, and Waylon. Let them know they can go back to work.”
As Kol carried his daughter toward the parking lot, Owen came running over to them, still holding his broken glasses.
Kol set Skylar down, and Owen engulfed her in a huge hug, but Kol didn’t take his eyes off his daughter for a second.
It was as though he feared Sky would disappear again if he blinked.
“He blames himself,” Dex said quietly.
My gaze flicked to him. “For Skylar getting lost?”
Dex shook his head. “For what happened to my brothers and me. He was supposed to be home that day. Mav and I wanted him to play soccer with us, but he took his girlfriend out instead. He was seventeen, and girlfriends were a hell of a lot more exciting than little brothers. Came home to cop cars. Dad dead. Orion in cuffs. Me traumatized. Wylder trying to handle the cops and find a lawyer for Orion. Maverick rushed to the ER. He feels like he failed us.”
I watched a tortured expression play over Kol’s face. Another failure in his book. Hell. “It wasn’t his to take on. Only one person is responsible, and that’s your father.”
“I know that. But we carry the scars anyway. And the ones carved with guilt are always deeper.”
My gaze flicked up to Dex’s face as he watched his brother and niece. His words, the way he spoke them, told me there was more to the story. There was more to whatever Dex carried and the scars he bore.
Owen released Skylar and came running at me. Yeti let out a bark as Owen launched himself at me. I caught him with an oomph and stumbled back a few steps. But Dex stepped right in to steady me—to steady us.
“You found her,” he whispered.
“We found her,” I echoed.
“She had ole Max in a chokehold,” Dex informed Owen.
Owen’s eyes went wide as he slid down me so he could stand. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. I don’t think he’ll bother you again,” Dex assured him.
Owen glanced over to where Max was clearly being lectured by his mother. “He always makes fun of me. My glasses.”
Dex’s mouth thinned. “Sometimes, people can’t handle anything that’s different, but it doesn’t say anything about you. It only says something about him.”
Owen looked down at his broken glasses. “I wish I wasn’t different.”
Dex crouched low so he was at eye level with Owen. “Different is a superpower. It means you notice things others don’t. And getting picked on just means you know what it feels like and can look out for others who might be going through the same thing.”
“I bet no one ever made fun of you,” Owen muttered.
“You’d be wrong about that.” Dex dipped his head to meet Owen’s gaze. “Growing up, my teeth were really crooked, and then I had to wear braces. A few kids called me Beaver Teeth.”
Owen’s face scrunched up. “Harsh.”
“Yeah. It wasn’t fun. And then, in high school, kids thought I was weird for spending so much time working on computers. Called me Hard Drive.”
“Computers are cool,” Owen argued.
“I think so, too. And I’m really glad I didn’t let them scare me out of working with them, or I wouldn’t have found what I love to do.”
“Glasses aren’t cool, though.”
Dex arched a brow. “Excuse me?” He tweaked his own glasses. “I think they’re bussin’.”
A giggle bubbled up and out of Owen. “I don’t think you should say bussin’.”
“Okay, fine, they’re dead-ass cool.”
Owen’s gaze flicked to me to see if I’d call Dex on the swear. “I guess yours are,” he mumbled.
“Maybe you just need to find a pair that really fits who you are. Then you’ll wear them with pride,” Dex suggested.
“Maybe,” Owen muttered. “Do you think? Would you, um, help me look for them? The glasses?”
Dex grinned, his whole face lighting up as he held out a fist for a bump. “We’re on a style mission.”
A throat cleared, and we all looked at a red-faced Max. “I, uh, I’m real sorry, Owen. I shouldn’t have pushed you.” He swallowed. “We’re going to pay for your new glasses.”
The woman behind him cleared her throat again. “I mean, I am. My mom will pay for them now, but I gotta work it off with chores.”
The woman nodded. “I’m so sorry. There have been some things going on at home that have Max acting out. It’s not an excuse. We’ll be talking them through. But I’m just sorry Owen was an outlet.”
I squeezed Owen’s shoulder. “What do you think?”
“Apology accepted,” Owen mumbled, but he still didn’t look completely convinced.
“Thank you,” I told Max’s mom.
She nodded, laying a hand on her son’s shoulder. Max cast a quick, panicked look at Dex. “You’ll tell Skylar I said sorry? I don’t want her to jump me again. She’s tiny, but she’s really freaking strong.”
Dex choked on a laugh. “I’ll tell her. As long as you’re nice to everyone at camp, I think you’re safe.”
Relief swept over Max’s features as he and his mom walked away.
Owen looked up at Dex in awe. “What did you and Sky do?”
Dex just grinned as he patted Owen’s shoulder. “We got your back. Always.”