Chapter 29 Brady
brADY
Luckily for us, the storm waits to break until we are in the car.
As we pull out of the driveway, the wipers race across the windshield, barely keeping up with the deluge.
The sound is deafening with thunder rumbling overhead and the water hammering the SUV roof.
I keep my eyes on the road as the lightning flashes around us.
Concentrating on the unfamiliar two-lane mountain roads, we don’t speak except for when Elizabeth calls out the turns.
It’s just as well because I’m still processing what her mother shared with me. At a stop sign, I steal a glance at Elizabeth. She is relaxed in her seat, but she’s clearly lost in her own thoughts.
We finally turn down what was once a dirt driveway to her grandmother’s former property.
Mud splashes up on the wheels as we slowly make our way toward the old house.
I ease the SUV to a stop in front of the house and shift into park.
The downpour unbelievably thickens until it’s impossible to see more than a few feet ahead.
Elizabeth looks up from her phone. “The weather app says this should be over in about ten minutes, but we are going to be filthy by the time we get down to the pond.”
Her attention is past the glass, on the sheets of water pouring down on us, but not really seeing anything. The thrum of the rain creates a feeling like we are cocooned from the world.
“What’s going on between you and your sister?”
Her head jerks. “Nothing’s going on.” The words are automatic and defensive, just as I expected.
I hum a low sound of disbelief, and her eyes snap to me.
“Are you talking about her limp?” Her voice is sharp, and full of an anger that doesn’t match the question.
For a second, I consider not pushing her. “No,” I say evenly, watching her. “But it’s interesting that’s where your mind went.”
Color floods her cheeks, and she turns toward the window. I don’t let it go. I can’t force her to talk to her family, but I want… No, I need to know what is going on inside her mind.
“You watch her like you think she might fall down at any second. I don’t think it’s about the limp though, is it? Because it doesn’t seem to bother her.”
Elizabeth’s teeth catch her lip, and the pause stretches between us, the atmosphere inside the car as heavy as the storm outside.
“She’s my little sister. I’m always going to look out for her. If anyone should understand that, it’s you.”
My jaw tightens. “Nice try with the deflection. I’m not talking about me.
I’m asking about you and your sister. There is more going on there than a normal sibling relationship.
” I push my tongue into my teeth, knowing I’m probably pulling the pin on an Elizabeth grenade.
“You look guilty every time you look at her.”
“Like you do when you look at Sera?” She shoots back, and for a second, I’m stunned.
“I probably do look guilty when I look at her. That’s because I failed her. I have a reason. What’s yours?”
Elizabeth’s whole body deflates. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” Her remorseful eyes meet mine. “I just… I don’t like to talk about it because…” Her hands twist in her lap and my anger dissolves.
“What are you scared of?” I hold her gaze. “What is the worst thing that happens if you admit you aren’t perfect… that you’ve made mistakes?”
“Big mistakes,” she mutters, and then heaves out a sigh.
“Even big mistakes.” I reach out and take one of her hands. I wait, not sure if she will answer or tell me to fuck off. It’s a gamble with Elizabeth. One that I always enjoy.
She licks her lips before squeezing her eyes shut and letting out words in a torrent as fast as the rain falling around us.
“If I make mistakes, people won’t trust me, which means they won’t like me.
” Her body shivers, and she rolls her shoulders.
She continues speaking with her eyes still screwed tight. “I’ll be alone.”
Her voice is tiny and small, and all I want to do is haul her across the console to cuddle her in my lap. I swallow hard, pushing down the pain in my chest. I need to get my words right. I know on a cellular level that if I fumble this, she’ll close up again, with her walls higher than ever.
“I’ve seen you make a lot of mistakes, Firefly.
” My voice is rough, and her eyes fly open to glare at me.
“A fucking lot. One almost got you killed…” Her jaw clenches, but I don’t rush the next words.
“But I still want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life.
Not just because you are insanely sexy and my body craves you like fucking oxygen. ”
My eyes burn into hers. “But because you are the most extraordinary person, I’ve ever met.
And, not because of everything you’ve accomplished, though your achievements are pretty incredible, but because you’re smart, and even when my sister was being a bitch, and I know full well you could have ripped her a new one, you didn’t.
You saw she was hurting. Despite everything that’s happened to you, all the reasons you have to be sharp and hard, you’re still all heart where it matters. ”
Her lips part in shock, but I keep going even though I feel like I’m literally prying my ribs open in order to hand her my heart.
“I’ve never felt as comfortable or as accepted as I do with you.
You don’t judge when I tell you the things that I’ve done, and I know you won’t for the things that I will inevitably do.
” Her fingers twitch in my hand, and I hold fast.
“Because you and I are the same. I’m not afraid of your fire or your shine. I fucking love it. You don’t like to be vulnerable?” I bark a harsh laugh. “Trust me, the idea of someone knowing how I truly feel is terrifying. But I trust you. And I want you to trust me, too.”
“I do.” Her eyes are soft, and suddenly not touching her is no longer an option. Cupping her neck, I pull her closer to claim her mouth.
When she finally pulls back, breathing hard, cheeks flushed, she rests her forehead against mine. “I ruined Caroline’s life. I destroyed her dreams.”
I stay quiet, giving her space. It takes all of my hard-won discipline to hold back, but if I want her to trust me, I can’t corner her.
She drags in a breath. “I used to be reckless as a kid. Daredevil. Always pushing things too far, but I was still the big sister, you know? I looked after Rob and Caroline when Mom and Dad were working.” Her hand curls against her thigh. “Or I was supposed to.”
“What happened?”
“I was riding my bike too fast. Caroline was balanced on the handlebars, laughing her head off, and I—I don’t know. Maybe I hit a rock. We went flying.”
Her fingers lift, brushing her chin, and I see the faintest silver scar there, a line I hadn’t noticed before.
“I got stitches. Just a few.” The hand falls to her lap.
“But Caroline broke her femur. Badly. She was in the hospital for over a week. She needed surgery.” Her voice cracks on the last word, soft but unmistakable.
I watch her silently. It’s obvious she’s carried this guilt for years. I could tell her it wasn’t her fault, that kids get hurt, but I know she won’t believe me. She’d take it as pity. So, I give her what I would want. Someone strong enough to stand in it with her.
The rain keeps pounding, louder than ever, but the actual storm is inside the SUV. The air feels tight, almost claustrophobic. “You didn’t ruin her life,” I say, keeping my voice even.
Elizabeth’s head whips toward me, eyes flashing. “I did.”
“She wanted to be a dancer. She dreamed of being a prima ballerina, and I took that away from her.” A smile breaks across her face—quick, wistful.
“She was good. Really, really good. A tiny little thing, but so light on her feet. Her teachers told my parents they should move so that she could train in a real salon. She was that talented.”
Her smile collapses. “I ruined it. Because I wasn’t careful.”
I study her. “How old was she?”
“Ten.”
“Ten?”
Elizabeth nods, chin trembling. “I was thirteen. Old enough to know better. It was my job to protect her. I shouldn’t have let her ride like that. They’d seen us do it before, and I’d promised not to let Caroline on my handlebars again.” Her voice is full of self-recrimination.
“Baby, you were a child, too.”
Her head snaps up. Defensive fire in her eyes. “No. Thirteen isn’t a child. I knew better. I knew she could get hurt, and I did it anyway.”
“Thirteen is most definitely a child.”
“Not according to my parents,” she whispers. “I was reckless and didn’t think about the consequences. Caroline would never be a dancer like she dreamed.”
A ball of ice forms in my stomach. The way she recites the words in a flat tone, tells me that those were the words said to her.
I bite back the first dozen things I want to say—several about her parents.
“You didn’t hurt her on purpose,” I say carefully. “And from what I saw at your parents’ house, Caroline doesn’t blame you.” Elizabeth shakes her head, denying my words. “Have you ever talked about it with her?”
“Of course not.” She looks horrified. “What could she say, other than ‘it’s not your fault.’ Caroline’s sweet. Too sweet. She’d lie, if necessary, just to protect my feelings.”
Thunder cracks overhead, shaking the car.
Elizabeth stares out the windshield, voice quieter now. “I made a mistake. She paid for it. So, I did everything I could to make up for it. Achieved success for both of us. I couldn’t waste my chance when I’d already wasted hers.”
Has she been punishing herself for this her whole life?
Did she marry Keith because of it? Because he was the responsible, safe option?
A man who checked the boxes of stability and security, the way she thought Caroline had been denied?
Did she settle because she thought she wasn’t allowed to want more?
My chest aches at the thought. She deserves more.