Chapter 41
BLAKE
Iwatch her walk away.
I don't turn around. I watch her reflection in the mirror behind the bar—the set of her shoulders, the way she holds her head high even though I just decimated her. She walks back to her friends, says something short, and then heads for the door.
She doesn't look back.
Good.
The air in my lungs feels thin, like I’m at high altitude. I grip the whiskey glass, staring at my knuckles. They're white. Trembling.
Everyone leaves.
I actually said that to her. I looked the woman I love in the eye and told her she was temporary. I told her the only thing holding Reid together was me, when the truth is I'm the rot in the foundation.
"Another?" the bartender asks, eyeing my empty glass.
"No."
I throw a twenty on the bar and stand up. My legs feel heavy, like I'm wading through concrete. I can feel eyes on me. Her friends in the booth. The one in the flannel shirt looks like she wants to drag me into the alley and beat me to death.
I wish she would. It would be cleaner than this.
I push through the door into the cool night air and suck in a breath that tastes like exhaust and rain. The noise of the bar cuts off behind me. Just the ringing in my ears.
I walk to my truck, boots crunching on gravel. Climb in. Shut the door.
Silence.
I lean my head back against the headrest and close my eyes. Doesn't matter. All I can see is her face. The confusion when I told her I tried to leave. The way her mouth opened before the words caught up, like her brain was still trying to sort what I'd just handed her.
Are you in love with him?
She asked me that. She looked right at me and asked me that.
I almost laughed. If only it were that simple. If I were in love with Reid, this would just be a tragedy. But being in love with her? Being in love with the one thing Reid has found that makes him happy? That’s not a tragedy. That’s a betrayal.
And I just made it worse.
I told her Reid begged me to stay. I shouldn't have told her that? I wanted her to know I tried. I wanted credit, like a selfish prick. See? I’m not the bad guy. I tried to go.
But I am the bad guy. I stayed.
My eyes drift to the glove compartment.
I know what's in there. The Glock 19. Loaded. Ready.
I reach over and pop the latch. It falls open. The gun sits there, black and heavy on top of the registration papers.
I pick it up. It’s cold.
It would be so easy. Drive out to the logging roads. Park somewhere deep in the treeline where nobody goes. One shot.
The noise in my head would stop. The constant, grinding guilt would stop. Laine would be free of me. Reid would be free of me.
I thumb the safety.
Do it. Just fucking do it.
But then I see Reid's face. Not the Reid from today, angry and confused. The Reid from seven years ago. Standing over a closed casket, trying to figure out how to breathe without his brother.
He's already buried Jared.
If I do this — if I leave him with a note and a mess to clean up — it breaks him. Not the kind of broken you come back from. The permanent kind. He'll spend the rest of his life replaying every conversation, every missed sign, asking himself why he wasn't enough to keep me here.
I know because that's what I do. Every day. With Jared.
I can't put that on him.
"Fuck," I whisper, and the word tears a jagged hold on its way out.
I put the gun back. Snap the glove box shut.
My hands are shaking. I grip the steering wheel until they stop.
I can't leave the easy way. So I have to leave the hard way.
I have to make him let me go.
I don't know how long I sit there before I finally start the engine.
The truck rumbles to life, vibrating through the seat.
I need to go back to the workshop. I need to pack.
If I can just get through tonight, maybe I can call Hatch back in the morning.
Maybe I can convince Reid that this isn't about Laine—that it's about the money, or the mission, or just me being restless.
If I make him angry enough, maybe he’ll open the door himself.
I pull out of the lot, driving on autopilot.
I’ll go back to the shop. I’ll finish sanding that cabinet. I’ll work until my arms are numb and my brain shuts off. And tomorrow, I’ll find a way to disappear without destroying them.
Everyone leaves, I told her.
I just have to make sure I’m the only one who does.