Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
KILLIAN
Thirty-seven unanswered texts to Knox have told me forgiveness is not within reach. I’m not even sure it’s possible, but I won’t give up. Not knowing is killing me and maybe that’s the point.
Is Carter alive?
Is Heather alive?
I have no fucking idea about either of them.
It’s no surprise my brothers are pissed at me.
I’m so goddamn angry with myself too, but I’m still having trouble believing Knox won’t tell me about Carter's condition. I’m not asking for much.
I just want to know if my brother is alive.
I take a gulp of my whiskey and set the glass back on the coffee table, pick up my phone, and try again for the thirty-eighth time.
Me: I get that you’re pissed. I don’t blame you, but I’m losing my mind. Please tell me if Carter is okay.
Three dots appear and disappear repeatedly before a message comes through.
Knox: No, dick. He is not okay.
My chest tightens reading that one word and reminding me of her.
Heather. My beautiful, Killer.
Except she’s not mine and never was. And now, if she’s alive, she still won’t be mine. If Knox can’t forgive me, she never will.
Heather was right.
I am a dick.
How do you even ask for forgiveness when the things you’ve done are unforgivable? I didn’t see it then, but I do now.
She was never the enemy, but our salvation.
The light in the dark.
The glue that could hold us together.
Except I ruined everything. I didn’t just push her away.
I took her from all of us.
Unfuckingforgiveable.
I was so hell-bent on protecting Carter from her hurting him that I didn’t see that she was helping him in a way no one else could.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I had to lose everything to see clearly.
In the destruction I created, I now know.
I’m in love with the beautiful, Killer.
Realization comes too little, too late. After I’ve lost everything.
I’ve been to the hospital many times, but the fucking guard dogs Knox hired wouldn’t let me in. I contemplated killing them, but didn’t think it would help things with my brothers right now.
Once again I send a text to Butch, hoping he has information.
Me: Please tell me you have something. I’m losing my mind.
Butch: I do. Can you meet me at the bar in town?
By that, he means a forty-five minute drive because there’s nothing near us. I don’t mind because there’s nowhere I wouldn’t go to find out if they’re both okay.
Me: I’ll be there ASAP.
Butch: I’ll see you at one.
I don’t know what he has for me, but for the first time in two weeks I have hope that I’ll find out something.
I swallow hard at the thought that news does not necessarily mean good news.
Still, not knowing is fucking killing me.
I toss back the last swallow of my drink, letting the burn of the amber liquid remind me of the pain deep in my soul. I grab my keys and head out to my car.
Glancing at Carter's Hellcat, the perpetual shooting pain in my chest intensifies. It’s another reminder of what I’ve lost. I can only hope it’s temporary because the thought of a life without them is painful beyond words.
Never seeing them again is more than I can handle.
That thought hits me like a ton of bricks as I finally understand why Carter would rather die than live without Heather.
Fuck.
I really am an idiot.