Collie (Meadows Sisters Duet #2)

Prologue

EASTON

“Dibs on your knife collection.”

“Good luck fighting Dad for it.”

“Dad doesn’t stand a chance.” I hold out my fist to challenge my brother, the unfortunate heaviness in my chest sinking even more, knowing this will likely be the last time we get to mess around like this.

The last time it’s just Ben and me, shooting the shit like we’ve done since we were kids. Kids who got in more trouble than we ever should’ve been able to get away with.

I lift my eyes to my lifelong best friend, mixed thoughts provoking an unforgettable memory we share together. One I know will bring a smile to his worn and tired face. “Remember that time in sixth grade when Mom let us stay home alone for the first time?” I ask Ben.

The softest of smirks ghosts his cheeks. “You mean the one and only time Mom let us stay home alone? Couldn’t forget it if I tried, brother. I’ve never seen Pops so angry.”

He’s right. We were never allowed to stay home again. Not because we weren’t old enough—we were. Mom just didn’t trust us.

It seemed like wherever Ben and I went, trouble followed.

I’ve come to realize that’s par for the course when it comes to having twins. A disadvantage for Mom, but the gift of a built-in best friend for my brother and me.

Despite being twins, the similarities between us are small. Ben has dirty blond hair and light features, while my features are darker. It’s our height and build that’s the same.

Growing up in the small town of Salt Hollow, Alaska, there wasn’t much to do but fish, hike, and cause chaos out of boredom. Ben and I excelled at increasing the number of gray hairs on our parents’ heads.

There weren’t many moments in my life I feared the wrath of my pops quite like the time we snuck into the storage shed hidden in the forest behind our family’s mobile home park.

It was wet and cold outside, and being true to our mischievous nature, we got the genius idea to start a fire for some warmth—inside a shed.

Except, Ben got carried away and dropped a match, wreaking havoc, which then set the shed and forest on fire.

“Still can’t believe you took the blame for me,” Ben tells me somberly. There’s a mixture of gratitude and sadness in his tone.

“And I’d do it again.” That’s what brothers do. We look out for each other.

Ben situates himself in the hospital bed, struggling to comfortably straighten the IV cords taped to his arm. It’s just he and I in this sterile hospital room, yet it feels like we’re miles away from the good ole days.

The fact is: Ben is dying, and it’s only a matter of days until my twin brother leaves this earth. Just days until I’m left alone without the one person in my life who has been more of a best friend to me than he ever had to.

As much as my chest hurts and my stomach is sick with anger knowing that out of all the people in this giant fucking world, the best guy known to man had to get sick, I’d rather know he’s at peace and no longer suffering.

That’s the one gift not even God or doctors can give him.

Nothing can prepare you to see your brother battle something so fucking painful.

Especially a pain that’s out of your control.

No, because I have to sit back and watch Ben roll over in agony as he fights to lift himself out of bed.

Or watch him vomit up blood without any explanation.

Maybe it’s from the chemotherapy that did nothing.

Or the all-juice diet a holistic doctor recommended that only made him weaker.

Not to mention the fatigue he’s forced to endure from it all for no fucking reason other than this bitch of a disease called cancer.

Gastric cancer, to be specific.

After following up with every doctor under the sun, we were assured there was absolutely nothing Ben could have done to prevent it. It’s likely genetic. Our Uncle Todd, my mom’s brother, was diagnosed when he was in his fifties, passing a few years later.

But Ben is only thirty-five.

Far too young to die. He can’t die. Not when he has a family, fiancé, and friends who would quite literally take his place instead.

We need him here. I need him here.

Unfortunately for him, cancer doesn’t give a flying fuck where he’s needed. And I’m supposed to just accept it.

For that, I send a giant middle finger to every research study out there unable to find a cure. If I had the education for it, I’d do it myself.

“You’ve been a good brother, East. I want you to know that,” Ben tells me, catching me off guard.

I bite my fist, struggling to find the words to adequately tell him how I feel. I want to rage. To hug him tight. To demand a cure and wake up from this nightmare. How can he be so positive when he’s the one dying?

It’s difficult for Ben to complete a sentence most days.

“Hey. You don’t have to say anything, man. I know. You’ve been one hell of a brother, too. Fuck. I don’t know if I would have survived childhood without you.”

He closes his eyes, taking in my words before nodding. He’s fading right in front of me, and I’m useless. I have more to say, and I’m afraid I’ll miss out on the chance if I wait. “About everything…I just…I hate this for you. I want you to know if I could take it all away, I would.”

Another nod. Ben knows where I stand. I’ve spent the last year since his diagnosis studying gastric cancer in young adults, researching natural remedies for his symptoms, and working overtime at his mechanic shop to make sure everything was taken care of when he couldn’t.

“I’ll take care of Mom and Pops. You don’t have to worry about them. You hear me?” I choke back a lump in my throat. “And the shop is already closed on as of yesterday, so that stress is gone.”

Another nod. Good. That’s good. I’m glad he’s not trying to talk—

“East.”

I blink. “Yeah. Right here, brother.” He nods to the water on the table, gesturing for me to hand it over. Bringing the straw to his mouth, I wait as he takes a long sip before building up the energy to speak.

“If you wanna rest, I can come back.” I sigh. I know he’d be sleeping right now if I weren’t here.

“East. Shut up. I need to say this,” Ben says, shaking his head.

“I’m listening.” I’m not sure how to answer. No idea what he has to say, but I have a gut feeling it’s important. In fact, I know it.

Ben never demands attention. He’s impulsive, and the fun twin. I’m the one typically preparing for the worst and the more broody one of the family.

“I need you to promise me something.”

My stomach churns. “Anything.” I’ll do anything for him, even if it means sacrificing something for myself.

Ben looks me head-on, not a shadow of wavering in his stare. “I need you to take care of her.”

Her.

“Ben,” I deadpan. He knows how big an ask that is.

He holds up a hand. “Just promise me, East.”

“You know I’d do anything for you, Ben. But why Sydney? She means everything to you.”

“And that’s exactly why. There’s no one else I trust more than you.

She’s been in your life just as long as she has mine.

It makes sense. I can’t die without knowing she’s safe.

I’ll suffer from the fucking grave. I need her to be happy someday.

I know it won’t be soon because Syd will grieve harder than anyone I know.

She’ll also convince herself she could have done something different.

But she’s perfect. I need you to remind her of that on the bad days. Please, East. Do it for me.”

That’s the last thing I expected to hear. It’s like Ben spoke it in a full breath. Not a second thought. No fear of denial. When things matter to us, it takes very little energy to share.

I know that’s what Sydney is to him. Who she is to him—his everything.

But can I do that? Can I take care of Ben’s most cherished person? The fact that he trusts her well-being to me feels like both a treasure and a curse.

But I’ll do it for him. No matter how uncomfortable it may be, because he would do the same for me.

So, I nod, signing my life away for my brother. “Okay. I’ll take care of her. You have my word.”

“Good. And take this.” Ben hands me a letter with my initials on the front. “Don’t open it until after.”

Until after…he’s gone.