Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
Brynn
I sit on the couch, my arms wrapped tightly around Olivia as her head rests in my lap.
Barney is curled up beside us, his warm body pressed against my leg, his breathing slow and steady.
Olivia’s sniffles have softened, but her fingers still clutch at my shirt, a reminder that she’s not okay—not really.
Can anyone be okay after that?
Dad paces in front of the fireplace, rubbing the back of his neck, his jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscle twitch.
Every few steps, he stops like he wants to say something, then shakes his head and keeps going.
The weight of everything sits heavy in the air between us.
None of us knows what to say, because there are no words that can make this better.
I stare at the floor, barely aware of my own hands rubbing Olivia’s back in slow, repetitive circles. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “It’s going to be okay.”
But I don’t even know if that’s true. My voice sounds hollow. The words are empty. And deep down, I don’t believe them.
The images from tonight keep flashing through my mind, one after another, like a horror movie I can’t turn off.
The sound of the gunshot, Olivia’s scream.
The way she crumpled to the ground. For one horrifying second, I thought she’d been hit.
I thought she was dead. My heart stopped.
My world shattered. I will never forget that feeling, that instant when I lost everything.
My throat closes, and I press my head back against the couch, willing myself to breathe through the crushing weight of it all. My hands tremble as I stroke Olivia’s hair, keeping her close, as if holding onto her tight enough will make the fear go away.
Then there was Lane—his wild eyes, the way he charged at me. If Jack hadn’t tackled him… I squeeze my eyes shut. Another wave of nausea rolls through me.
And Clay. His voice, that awful voice, screaming for Olivia, cursing my name, calling me every vile thing he could think of as they loaded him onto the stretcher.
I should have felt something when he was lying there, bleeding, knowing he might not make it.
But I didn’t. There was nothing left to feel for him. Just… emptiness.
A single tear slips down my cheek, then another. Before I know it, they’re falling freely, and I let them. I don’t have the energy to stop them anymore. I could have lost everything tonight. My baby. My whole world.
If Olivia hadn’t been outside alone—if I hadn’t been inside kissing Jack—none of this would have happened. Lane wouldn’t be in the back of a squad car. Clay wouldn’t be clinging to life.
My breath hitches.
Oh God. What was I thinking? How could I have been so distracted?
Jack comes in, his boots heavy on the wooden floor. His first steps are toward Olivia and Barney. He kneels beside the couch, reaching out to touch Olivia’s hair, his voice gentle. “Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”
She sits up and throws her arms around his neck. “Thank you for saving us.”
His hands shake as he holds her, his eyes closing for a brief second, like he’s absorbing the moment. Like he needs it just as much as she does.
Then, his gaze shifts to mine.
I can’t hold it. I can’t meet those eyes. I can’t face the reality of what happened or the part I played in it.
This is all my fault.
I swallow the lump in my throat and gently pull Olivia back. “Come on, baby. We’re going home.”
Jack’s brows draw together in confusion. “Brynn—”
Dad steps forward. “You don’t have to go anywhere tonight. You should stay here.”
“I need to go,” I say, my voice flat, lifeless. “I need to be home.”
Jack stands, his hands open at his sides, like he’s trying to figure out what to say. “Brynn, please.”
I shake my head. “I think it’s best if you stay away from me.”
Something flickers in his eyes—hurt, confusion, maybe even anger. I don’t wait for his response. I help Olivia up, her fingers locked with mine as we walk out the door, Barney at my heels, not looking back.
I know it’s irrational, our house is only five hundred yards away, but I need to be there. I need to be away from everyone else as I try to process everything that just happened.
An hour later, Olivia is finally asleep, her small body curled up under her blankets, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Barney lies at her feet, his big blue eyes watching me as if he knows I’m falling apart. Maybe he does. Maybe he feels the storm raging inside of me.
I can’t sit. I can’t rest.
I pace the length of the living room, arms wrapped tightly around myself, the events of the night playing on a loop in my mind.
Every time I blink, I see Olivia falling to the ground, and my heart stops all over again.
Every time I close my eyes, I see Clay’s twisted, hateful expression.
I hear Lane’s enraged scream as he lunges and feel the moment Jack tackles him to the ground.
A knock at the door startles me. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat.
“Brynn,” Jack’s voice is gentle but insistent. “Please, just open the door.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, willing him to go away. I can’t face him right now. I can’t face any of this. The guilt, the shame, the weight of knowing that I put Olivia in danger.
He knocks again, this time softer. “Brynn.”
I don’t answer.
Eventually, he leaves, his footsteps retreating down the porch steps. I sag against the wall, pressing my forehead to the cool wood of the door, trying to breathe through the tightness in my chest.
An hour passes. Maybe more. I’m still pacing, still trying to make sense of the chaos in my mind, when the front door suddenly swings open. Joanne and Rachel step inside without knocking, their eyes wide with worry.
“Brynn,” Rachel breathes, reaching for me.
Before I can react, I’m pulled into their arms, both of them holding me tight. The dam finally breaks, and I sob into their shoulders, my body shaking as the weight of everything crashes down on me.
“We came as soon as we heard,” Joanne says, her voice thick with emotion. “Oh, honey, are you okay?”
I can’t answer. I just cry harder.
Rachel strokes my back, whispering soothing words. “It’s okay, Brynn. Let it out.”
Joanne pulls back just enough to cup my face, her thumbs wiping away my tears. “What happened?”
We move to the couch, and I sink into the cushions between them. My body feels numb, but my hands tremble as I rub my palms together. I give them the short version. As I speak, the words catch in my throat, and I realize I’m processing it in real-time, reliving every moment.
When I finish, I’m shaking again, my breath coming in uneven gasps.
“Oh, Brynn,” Joanne murmurs, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
Rachel nods. “You’ve been through hell tonight.”
I shake my head violently and push up from the couch, unable to sit still any longer. “No. I did this. This is my fault.”
They both look at me, startled.
“This is my fault,” I continue, my voice thick with anger and self-loathing. I start pacing again, raking my hands through my hair. “I knew Clay was unhinged, but I didn’t know it would come to this. I should have known.”
“Brynn—” Joanne starts, but I cut her off.
“No, listen to me. If I hadn’t—if I hadn’t let myself fall for Jack, if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in him, Olivia wouldn’t have been outside by herself.
I wasn’t paying attention to her. I was inside, kissing Jack.
” My voice breaks. “I should have been watching my daughter. I should have protected her.”
Rachel stands abruptly, her expression fierce. She steps in front of me, grabbing my shoulders and giving me a small shake.
“Stop it,” she says firmly.
I blink at her, stunned.
“She’s twelve and perfectly capable of being outside by herself. This is not your fault,” she says, her voice unwavering. “Clay is responsible for what he did. Lane is responsible for what he did. You are not.”
I try to turn away, but she holds me in place.
“You are a damn good mother, Brynn,” she continues. “You love that little girl more than anything in the world. And tonight? You did everything you could to keep her safe.”
Joanne stands, too, nodding. “Rachel’s right. You’re in shock, Brynn. You’re grasping for something—anything—to make sense of this. But there’s no making sense of it. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Tears spill down my cheeks again, and Rachel softens, pulling me into another hug.
“I just—I feel like I failed her,” I whisper.
“You didn’t.” Joanne’s voice is warm and steady. “You’re here. She’s here. And she’s safe.”
I close my eyes, letting their words sink in, letting their presence steady me. The guilt still lingers, but for the first time tonight, I feel like maybe I can breathe again.