Chapter 29
Reid’s brooding demeanor thaws as we approach camp, but it returns with a vengeance as soon as we pull in.
The campground is empty.
Completely and totally empty.
The tire tracks are still here, so we don’t have the wrong spot, but Shaky Shanty is nowhere to be found—gone without a trace. Even our shitty faux patio is missing.
She’s just gone. Someone must have stolen her.
I reach out and grab Reid’s shoulder. We’ll make this work somehow.
He can drive with me, or we can rent him a nicer van.
In some ways, it’s almost a relief. That van was more trouble than it was worth, although I can’t say that to Reid.
The hunk of metal meant something to him—something I’ll never quite understand.
My mouth is popped open in an ‘O’, ready to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. Reid turns to me, his hazel eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “Addie, am I a bad person?”
Brows knitted together, confusion evident on my face, I ask, “What?”
“Am I a fucking bad person? Because I don’t know what I did for today to be so shitty.”
On instinct, my fingers clutch the back of his hair and tug him against my chest.
“Oh, Reid. You’re one of the best people I know. I’m so sorry today has been awful, it really has. You can sleep in the bed tonight.”
He yanks himself away from me and stares out the window. We both sit there in silence, looking at where his van is supposed to be. The tension is thick between us, like clouds hanging onto moisture right before they release. I can’t tell what’s coming next.
His eyes train on me, in search of an answer to a question he hasn’t asked. Worry trails up my neck. I haven’t studied…I don’t know if I have the right reply ready.
Reid’s thumb rubs the edge of my jaw so gently I almost wonder if I’m imagining it.
I grasp his forearm with both hands to prove to myself that he’s still here.
He is here and he’s touching me. His eyes meet mine, somehow keen and soft all at once.
I can feel it—everything is about to change.
Eyelashes fluttering, my eyes close, awaiting impact.
“I’ve gotta go home, Addie.”
Bubbles of hope in my chest pop and fall to their waiting demise.
They should have never been there in the first place.
My back hits the door, trying to put as much space between us as possible.
It feels like I’ve been shot. I never imagined actually doing this, riding rampage.
How could I possibly do it without him? I don’t have the slightest idea how to build a trail.
A single tear trails down my cheek, and he catches it and brushes his fingers up into my hair. “I want to stay Addie, I do, but I just can’t be what you need right now.”
“I…I don’t need you to be anything. I just need you here.” Even I’m shocked by my vulnerability right now.
One broken sob falls out of me before I can stop it, and the tears start streaming. That growing spark between us has been snuffed out before it ever got the chance to smolder. He holds me and I hold him tightly, as if I can force him into staying with my embrace alone.
“I’m so sorry, Addie. I want to be there for you, I just can’t do it right now. I’ll fly in for the event, okay?” He plants a soft kiss on top of my head as he finishes.
His hands cup my face and he forces me to look at him. “Addie. I know you think you can’t do this, but you can. You’ll have a full team. We can book you a room somewhere nice with a big bath.” Reid smiles big, but it’s thin. “You never needed me.”
I do need him. More than anything I need him, but I can’t find the words, so I sit staring at the empty patch of dirt before us.
We spend the next several hours booking Reid a flight home. The service is spotty, so it keeps reloading every time he gets to checkout. “Why won’t anything fucking go right?” He rests his head against the dash as he grunts out the words.
I want to touch him—offer some comfort—but everything feels misplaced.
“I’m sorry, Reid.” Tears threaten to fall.
His eyes soften. “It’s not your fault, Addie. I’m not leaving because of you.”
I’m trying to believe him, trying to come up with a solution to get him to stay. In a last ditch effort, I ask, “Should we at least call the cops? Maybe you can get insurance money, even if they don’t find it.”
“It’s not worth anything anyways.” He shrugs.
I’ve only ever heard him refer to his van as a she. He’s more broken by this than I realized. On the fifteenth try, he books a flight back to Denver. It leaves in three hours. I only have three more hours with him—not even, since he’ll need to board earlier.
All of the moments between us this summer seem like a dream—a hopeful hallucination. My progress evaporates. I’m shrunken again, two feet tall and petrified to say what I feel.
Maybe he would stay if I told him how badly I need him to. I don’t find the courage.
Everything I’ve been holding back floods out of me the instant the double doors close behind him. He’s gone. Reid is actually gone.
Painful, ugly sobs escape me. Clutching at my chest, I’m praying for air and getting nothing. There’s a clang on the side of my window, a staunch guard staring at me with dismay. He’s mouthing something at me, but I can’t quite make it out between the watery veil.
He angrily points forward with his arm. This is a no parking zone, and apparently there are no exceptions for broken hearts or panic attacks.
Shakily, I turn the engine over and meander through the maze of paused vehicles.
Hard gasps rile up every few seconds as I peel my eyes wide, trying to keep yet another pitiful tear from falling down my face.
On autopilot, I make my way to Yosemite—to Riley.
I called her right before we left for the airport while Reid was showering.
As soon as she asked me if I was okay, I spilled everything to her, right then in hushed tones on the edge of the forest. She almost drove to get me, and I almost let her, but I need to prove to myself I can brave this road alone…
literally. I drive to her, flocking from one source of sunshine to another like the wilted flower I am.
It’s dark when I get there. I managed to rent a tiny little cabin on the outskirts of the park last minute. There’s a security system and a hot tub, and I really can’t ask for more. Except I want to. I want to ask the universe to send Reid back to me.
Riley comes over with boxed wine and pizza. We sit there on the worn wood floor, stuffing our faces. She doesn’t even know about Rampage yet. I know she doesn’t follow the competitions, so I’m not sure why I expected her to.
It occurs to me she must think I’m even more pathetic than I actually am. The thought makes me sit up higher and I say, “I got an invite.”
Her bright eyes light up even more. “To what?”
Riley’s lack of awareness has never bothered me much before, but right now it’s staring me in the face, and it makes me nauseous.
I’m always there for everyone, but is anyone ever really there for me?
I guess she is, at least physically. She’s on this floor with me right now, but would she be if I didn’t ask?
Clipped and chipped, my words are laced with years of resentment. “You really don’t know?”
She scrambles forward. “Oh, to the big race? That’s awesome, Addie.”
Her smile looks real, but it still pisses me off. “It’s not even a race. It’s a competition.”
Riley grabs both of my hands and pulls me into a tight hug. “That’s amazing, Ad. I’m so proud of you.”
She doesn’t even realize I’m mad at her. Suddenly, I don’t want sunshine anymore. I feign a yawn and give her a half-hearted smile before heading to bed. The dark walls of the cabin close in around me, and I cry myself to sleep.