Chapter 3 #2
"You were right. About the report. Joyce explained it.
" He swallows, his throat working hard. "I just..
. I didn't want to lose you. And I turned into the monster in the dark.
I get it." He laughs, but there's nothing funny in it.
"Pretty fucked up, right? Loving someone so much you become their nightmare. "
I don't know what to say. Because yeah, for a little while, I was scared. But looking at him now, I can't find that fear anywhere.
I'm just sad. Really, really sad.
"How are you?" I ask. "Really."
He shrugs. It doesn't work. "Fine. Working doubles. Keeping busy."
Liar.
"And Blake? Have you heard from him?"
The mask cracks. Raw pain flashes across his face before he looks away, jaw tight.
"No. Nothing." His voice is rough. "Hatch says he's alive. That's all I get. He's alive, he's working, he won't talk to anyone."
Three months of silence.
"Reid..." I step toward him. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know it was this bad."
"Why would you?" He laughs again, that hollow sound. "You've got your own life. You shouldn't have to worry about my mess."
"He came to see me. That night. Before he left."
Reid's head snaps up. "What?"
"He looked..." Broken. Bleeding. Saying goodbye like he meant it forever. "Bad. He looked really bad. He said he was shipping out the next day. I thought—you two would be okay. That you'd talk."
"No." Reid runs both hands through his hair, leaving it in wild peaks. "Last thing I said to him was that I never wanted to see him again. That I hoped his contract was a long one." His voice cracks. "If he dies over there, that's what he'll remember. That I threw him away."
Oh God.
"You don't hate him," I say. It comes out desperate.
"No. I was angry. I was hurt about losing you. But he's been my brother for twenty five years. He's family." Reid looks at me, helpless. Lost. "I hate what he did. I hate it. But I can't—if he doesn't come home—"
He stops. Swallows hard.
"I have to go." He's backing toward his truck, wiping his face with his sleeve. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all of it. I just—I need to—"
"Reid, wait—"
"I wish I could have been better for you." He's already climbing in, starting the engine. "Someone who deserved you."
Then he's gone. Taillights disappearing into the gray.
I stand there, arms wrapped around myself, watching the empty space where his truck used to be.
What just happened?
"Hey."
I spin around.
A guy in a paramedic uniform is walking toward me from the station. Stocky build, tired eyes, coffee cup in hand. He looks like he hasn't slept in a week. Tony.
Oh no. "I was just leaving—"
"Laine. Please. Just—wait." He stops a few feet away, studying me like I'm a puzzle he's trying to solve. "Look, I don't know what just happened between you two. Not my business. But I saw you talking and I just..."
He trails off. Takes a sip of coffee. Tries again.
"I'm worried about him."
My stomach drops. "Tell me."
Tony glances back at the station, then at me. He looks like he's deciding whether to cross a line.
He crosses it.
"He's not eating. I mean, he says he is, but I've worked with the guy for years. I know what he looks like healthy." Tony shakes his head. "He's dropped maybe fifteen pounds since October. Picks up every extra shift he can get. I think he's scared to go home."
That's too much. Way too much.
"And the worst part?" Tony's voice drops. "The Reid part of Reid is just... gone. You know what I mean? The jokes, the energy, the way he used to light up a room? That guy doesn't exist anymore. He just goes through the motions. Does the job. Goes home to that empty house."
I feel sick. "Has he talked to anyone? A therapist, or—"
"I've tried. Believe me." Tony's laugh is bitter. "He just says he's fine. Handling it. But he's not fine. He's not handling anything. He's just..." He searches for the word. "Surviving. Barely."
"What about Blake? Does he know how bad—"
"Blake." Tony's expression hardens. "Blake's the whole reason we're here, isn't he?
Whatever went down between those two, it broke something in Reid.
He won't talk about it. Won't say the guy's name.
But I've seen him checking news reports from Afghanistan at three in the morning when he thinks no one's looking. "
Oh, Reid.
"I don't know what you can do," Tony says.
"I don't even know why I'm telling you this.
But you're the first person I've seen him actually talk to in months.
Even if it was just for a minute." He meets my eyes.
"He loved you. I don't know what happened, but I know that much.
And I think losing you and Blake at the same time just.. . emptied him out."
I don't know what to say. My throat is too tight.
"Just—" Tony shrugs, helpless. "If there's anything you can do. Anyone you can reach. I'm running out of ideas here."
He heads to his car, pulling out, leaving me alone in the parking lot.
The January wind cuts through my sweater. I barely feel it.
Anyone you can reach.
I think about Blake's number, still sitting in my phone. I meant to delete it after that night. I was going to.
I didn't.
The drive home is a blur.
I try to distract myself. Laundry. Cleaning that doesn't need doing. A book I can't focus on.
But I keep seeing Reid's face. The hollowness. The way he couldn't even look at me.
And Tony's voice: He's just surviving. Barely.
Blake needs to know.
The thought won't leave me alone. He needs to know that Reid is falling apart. Whatever he was trying to accomplish by cutting everyone off—it's not working.
By midnight, I can't stand it anymore.
I dig through my phone until I find Blake's number. My thumb hovers over the screen.
What do I even say?
This is insane. He treated me like dirt for months. He manipulated everyone. He confessed he loved me like that made any of it okay.
But he also loves Reid. I know that in the deepest part of me. That's real.
And Reid loves him back. Even angry, even hurt—Reid still loves his brother.
I start typing before I can talk myself out of it.
Blake, it's Laine. Reid doesn't know I'm texting you.
I stare at the words. My finger hovers over send.
I saw Reid today. He looks bad. Really bad. Tony says he's barely eating, working doubles just to avoid going home. He's not okay, Blake. He's falling apart and I don't know how to help him.
I know you're dealing with your own stuff. I know things ended badly between all of us. But he needs his brother. He needs to know you're okay. He needs SOMETHING.
You told me you stayed to hold him together. Well, you're gone, and he's in pieces. Come fix this.
Please.
I hit send before I can change my mind.