25. Shane
Shane
One month later…
“Don’t let him drive!” Dean snaps just as Gabe shoves past me out of the garage.
“What?” I ask, whipping my head to look at Gabe then back to Dean.
“Just go!”
My brows pinch as I shuffle over my own feet to take off after him.
What the hell is going on?
When I reach him, his hands tremble as he attempts to unlock his truck, dropping his keys in the process.
I snatch them off the ground before he gets the chance. “Where’re we going?”
Gabe’s mouth opens and closes several times, his eyes wide and bloodshot. I almost miss it when he whispers, “Home.”
He doesn’t say anything else as he rounds the vehicle and climbs in.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask, starting the truck.
His voice cracks, and he doesn’t look at me when he says, “Just fucking drive.”
I don’t ask again, and he doesn’t speak the entire drive.
When we finally arrive and climb out, I no longer even need to ask. I know by the sound of Colette’s screams from inside the house. Gabe’s knees threaten to buckle as soon as he hears them, and I grab him, unsure how I’m managing to stay upright at this point.
There’s nothing in the world other than Gabe that would bring the gut-wrenching cries out of the house I’ve called a second home for so long.
As I follow Gabe across the lawn, I search for Jon’s bike, even knowing in my heart it’s not here because I just desperately want to be wrong.
It should be here.
He took over my drops, so I know he should be done by now.
I shove open the front door before Gabe gets to it.
Being flayed alive would hurt less than this because I know, as soon as I see the tear-streaked face of JT’s mom, that I’m not wrong.
I barely register Gabe as he staggers past me and clutches at his mom.
Barely hear the agonized wails echoing across the kitchen.
There’s only muffled cries, like I’m still on the porch listening to the horrible scene play out from the other side of the door.
I think I hear my name. Sarah’s hand is out like she’s calling me over.
My feet move back.
One step.
Two.
I can’t look at Colette. This isn’t happening. Fuck. Am I high again? I don’t remember taking anything.
But I have to be. I’m fucked up on Marcus’s floor and this is all—
Suddenly, Sarah’s hands are on my shoulders, her face close to mine. Her lips form a word that looks like accident.
He’s gone.
My head shakes.
This isn’t real. This isn’t fucking real!
I stumble back, knocking into the counter and sending a vase crashing to the floor.
I have to get out of here.
Spinning on my heel, I take off as Sarah calls my name.
No more pep talks.
No more one-armed hugs when shit gets too real.
His boots aren’t by the door.
His bike’s not in the drive.
He’s gone.
I climb into Gabe’s truck and take off.
Where the hell am I going?
My fingers tighten around the steering wheel as the turn to Marcus’s comes up.
“You need to get a hold of it before it’s too late. It’s only going to get worse.”
I floor it.
The world blurs.
Maybe I’ll crash too.
It’d hurt less than this.
I need Nik—
No. I can’t do this to her. I can’t see her.
But I fucking need her.
The tires squeal to a stop in front of Gran’s.
She meets me at the door.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” Her arms wrap around me. Her warm hands find my cheeks next, and it’s only now that I realize how badly I’m shaking. Her eyes search mine, and some part of me wonders if she thinks I’m high.
Fuck, I want to be high.
But she doesn’t give me that look—the disappointed one everyone gives me.
Instead, she looks at me like she knows something I don’t.
She takes Gabe’s keys from my hand and runs a thumb down my face, handing me a pack of smokes and nodding to the back.
I want to tell her it’s stupid and that the lake isn’t fucking magic and it can’t bring Jon back so what the fuck good is it going to do me, but I don’t have the energy to even do that.
So, I take the cigarettes and head out back, pulling one from the pack and the lighter from where she’s wedged it just inside the plastic.
But my hands are shaking too bad to get the stupid thing to light.
Fucking hell. I should just go to Marcus’s. What the fuck good is this cigarette gonna do me anyway? None.
Just as I get to the edge of the water and flop down in the grass, it finally lights.
One cigarette.
I can’t do this.
Two.
I can’t fucking do this.
Three.
Four.
And I feel her then, like a blanket over my shoulders.
An awareness creeps up the back of my neck, turning my heart and soul on like a switch. She appears in front of me in a pair of denim shorts and a long sleeve T-shirt before dropping to her knees.
Did I go to Marcus’s after all? Is this all a hallucination?
I suck in a sharp breath as we sit there staring at one another, her purple hair blowing in the breeze.
I open my mouth.
He’s gone.
I’m sorry.
I’m a fuck-up.
It should’ve been me.
I think she hears them all, even though I don’t say a word because she practically crawls into my lap, wrapping herself around me.
If this is a hallucination, I’ll take it because fuck, I need her.
My head falls to her shoulder, and I lock my arms around her middle. I’ve never wanted to hold onto someone so hard.
I take a deep breath, my fingers digging into her back as I cling to her for dear life. A sob breaks from my throat as my shoulders shake, and the dam completely breaks.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Jon was supposed to be here to see me get clean, see me fix my shit. He was supposed to be here when I got straight.
He was supposed to be around if I ever got sober enough to even deserve to look at Nik again.
She shouldn’t be here. I’m going to hurt her again.
I don’t deserve her.
It should’ve been me.