Unafraid (Beachwood Bay) (20 page)

I watch her face change as my words sink in. Brit furrows her brow, confused.

“Hunter?” she whispers. “What do you mean?”

Brit blinks, staring at me with those beautiful dark eyes. A moment ago they were aching with anger and hurt, I would have done anything to make it go away. Even telling her my darkest secret. But now, I wish I could take it all back, have her look at me like a hero again, no matter what the price.

“
I killed him.” I say it again, letting the words falls to the floor between us: the dark bitter truth I’ve been hiding so long. “My brother is dead, Brit, he’s been dead three years now. Jace is gone.”

I sag back against the wall, feeling the fight drain out of my body. A moment ago, we were screaming and yelling, consumed with passionate anger. Now, everything’s changed.

Nothing will ever be the same.

“
What happened?” Brit finally asks. She sinks down into the nearest chair—halfway across the room from me, I notice through the dull ache already blossoming in my skull.

She can’t wait to get away from me.

But it’s too late to take it back now. She wanted the truth, and now I’m going to give it to her. I take a deep breath and brace myself.

“It was Christmas break,” I start, my voice hoarse with the words I’ve kept inside for so long. “A few months after that summer here. I was back from college, and Jace was working with Dad at the firm. We all went out to Aspen for the holidays. My parents rent a big house there every year,” I explain, feeling numb. “All their friends have places too. It’s one big parade of cocktail parties and lunches, but, me and Jace would always have a good time. Go skiing, hit the bars...”

My voice falters. I look up, over at Brit, trying to see a sign in her expression, some kind of understanding, but instead her face is blank. Empty. Waiting.

I clench my jaw, and force myself to keep talking. “So one night we were out, meeting some other kids in town. Jace knew some people from college. Everyone was drinking, having a good time.” The words stick in my throat, and I have to catch my breath. “Except, I wasn’t supposed to be drinking.” I force the confession out. “It was my turn to drive, and Jace wanted to cut loose. He’d only been at the firm a few months, but already, Dad was piling on the pressure, long hours, too much responsibility. But Jace never complained,” I remember quietly. “That wasn’t his style. He just took it all, he wanted to make Dad proud.”

Just talking about it, I can see his face so clearly. I feel the pain clench in my chest, that bitter ache that haunts me, every minute of every day. The darkness, so deep I think I could drown.

“
He was the good one,” I choke out. “He would never have...” But I’m getting ahead of myself now, so I force myself to rewind in the story. I have to be clear, I have to tell her every word, every failure. Every way I fucked things up.

She needs to know everything I am.

“
So we partied,” I tell her, hollow. “Jace went hard, I mean, really tore things up. There were girls, there are always girls, but he was really going for it. We both were.”

My voice drops and I look away. This part shouldn’t be harder, or feel more of a betrayal than everything else I’ve done, but it is. Even that night, every other girl I looked at, flirted with, or slipped my arms around in a casual embrace—it felt like I was cheating.

On Brit.

She’s
still sitting there, across the room from me, way out of reach. She hugs her knees in to her chest and doesn’t look at me. I’d give anything to know what she’s thinking—just a glimpse of the truth—but this isn’t about me anymore.

“
I was... in a different place, back then.” I explain slowly. “Not like when you met me. It was my first time away from home, my parents, all their bullshit, and...”

I stop. I was about to say, ’I was still hurting over you,’ but I stop myself just in time. It’s not fair to bring her into my crimes. She had no idea what the hell was going on, thousands of miles away from Beachwood Bay. I was the one who went off the rails trying to get by without her.

It’s the only lie I’ve ever told her, when I said
I understood her leaving me there, the morning after our night together. The truth is, I couldn’t deal with it. I didn’t even know where to start. Our night together changed everything, and waking up with her gone, it felt like the only true happiness I’d ever known had been ripped away from me. Some cruel joke, to give me a taste of something that was never really mine.

The loss of her was absolute.

I knew I didn’t have any right to expect more. We’d never even talked about what would happen in the morning, it was just a one-night thing. But that didn’t change the way I felt to find her gone, or my desperate, futile wishes to get it all back again.

I would have laughed over it, if it didn’t hurt so bad. Imagine me, pining away over some girl when I could have dated anyone on campus. But I didn’t want them, I just wanted her. Brit haunted my dreams, until I’d wake up crazy with wanting her, the scent of her shampoo lingering in my dorm room, the touch of her skin still fresh against mine.

I told myself it was just because she was the first girl to reject me, the only one who walked away before I made that call. But the truth was, I knew, it was all about her. Brit. Only Brit. The one girl who didn’t care about my money or family connections, or even my charm. She’d seen something real in me, and once I’d known the bliss of that connection, everything else seemed like a cheap imitation, a mockery of real love.

I tried to forget her, bury those memories in beer, and partying, and even other girls. But nothing soothed the ache. Those first months of college, my heart was bruised and raw and hurting: caught up in anger and confusion, and regret for wanting something I couldn’t have—something she clearly didn’t feel in return, even long enough to stick around and say goodbye. By the time Christmas break rolled around, I was desperate to get her out of my system, any way I could.

“So
I drank.” I pick up the story again for Brit, leaving out the reasons why. My words are hollow and bitter with self-loathing. “The one night I’d promised I wouldn’t, I did it anyway. One beer turned into three, and then there were shots on the bar, and by the time we stumbled out into the snow, I was so wasted, I couldn’t see straight.”

Brit sucks in a shocked breath.
“
You drove?”

I shake my head. “Jace wouldn’t let me,” I tell her. “He was looking out for me, the way he always did. I’d already got some tickets for speeding, and Dad would have killed me...”

I
trail off, realizing the bitter irony of my words.

“
He took the keys,” I tell her, forcing the words out, knowing the worst is still to come. “He said he wasn’t as far gone as me. He always handled his booze better. So, I let him. We piled in the rental, and headed back to the cabin. It was dark,” I say quietly, seeing the scene all over again. The moonlight on the crisp snow; the black shadows of the trees blurring by as we drove faster and faster. “And the roads were icy. A deer ran out, and Jace swerved, and…”

This time, I can’t go on. The words stick in my throat, like if I don’t say them, they won’t be true. And God, I’d give everything I have—I’d lay down my life in a heartbeat—for it not to be true. For my big brother to still be here, for this pain in my chest to be just a dream.

I focus on my breathing, in and out, in deep, shuddering breaths.

“They said he died on impact.” I whisper it in the silence of the dark room. The sun has set, surrounding us with shadows, but neither of us move to get the light. Somehow it’s easier here in the dark, pretending like the world doesn’t exist outside. “I was knocked unconscious right away,” I add. “When I came around in the hospital, I barely had a scratch on me. Because I was so drunk,” I add, hating myself for every word, “my body didn’t brace for impact, I didn’t feel a thing.”

That’s the part I can’t get over, the cruelest irony of all. My brother was dying beside me, his body crushed and bruised and bloody, and I just drifted off to sleep, like it was nothing.

“He was there. And when I woke up, he was gone.” I tell her, broken. “Like someone ripped a hole in the world, and now nothing I do will ever… I can’t make it right. I can’t bring him back. He’s gone. Jace is gone, and it’s all my fault.”

A sob escapes me, desperate and rasping. I hate myself for it, for everything. I don’t get to grieve him, I don’t deserve the release. He’s my burden to carry with me, for every breath I breathe that he won’t; every beat of my heart that I took from him.

“I should be dead,” I say quietly, broken. “It should have been me. Why couldn’t it be me?”

There’s no reply.

The silence stretches, every passing moment like a lifetime. I wait, slumped on the floor with my back against the wall. I can’t bring myself to look at Brit. I know I’ll only find the same expression I see on everyone’s face once they know the truth: the police, friends from home, teachers at school. That mix of horror and fascination; resentment and secret, bitter regret. Like they know it’s all my fault.

My parents are the worst. They’ve tried not to show it, but even I can tell. They wish I had been the one to go.

That makes two of us.

I hear a noise, movement over on the couch. I can’t help myself. I look up in time to see Brit slowly unfold her limbs and rise to her feet.

My heart falls.

I didn’t expect her to understand, but that didn’t stop me hoping for a miracle. She’s been the one person to see through my faults and flaws, and if anyone could save me from bearing this dreadful weight alone...

No. I never deserved her. Even before she knew the truth, I was a fool to dream, all those nights lost in memories of the past, like if I willed it hard enough, I could make her love me for real.

But real life isn’t dreams and wishes. It’s the flash of movement on a dark road, the scream of breaks and shattering glass.

It’s the deathly silence the moment you lose the one you love, and the deep ache of loneliness knowing you’ll never get them back—or deserve to be loved ever again.

Brit walks towards me, heading for the door. I want to make her stay, try and explain better than these jumbled fragments I’ve offered her, but I can’t find the strength to fight it anymore.

I’ve lost her all over again, and this time, it’s all my fault.

I bow my head and count her footsteps, savoring the sound of each step on the old wooden boards—the last sound of her before she leaves my life forever.

One, two, three…

I wait for the sound of the door closing but nothing comes.

I close my eyes. I can’t take this anymore. I know I deserve to suffer for everything I’ve done, but God, I can’t bear the thought of her hating me now. She was my light, my hope, and once she walks out that door, I know, there’ll be nothing but darkness.

Then I feel a touch, gentle against my cheek. I slowly lift my head to find Brit crouched on the floor in front of me. Her dark eyes stare softly into mine, not angry or betrayed, but something more precious than I’ve ever known before.

F
orgiveness.

It can’t be.

I blink at her, not trusting myself to speak. This is her just letting me down gently. Softening the blow before she walks out for good.

Softly, she wipes away the tear I didn’t know was falling.

“It’s not your fault,” Brit whispers.

I shake my head, not trusting myself anymore. Another second, and I’ll pull her into my arms and kiss her—make her stay the only way I know how. “Brit, you don’t need to do this,” I tell her. “Don’t try and be nice. Please, just go.”

She shakes her head slowly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I freeze. My heart starts racing, betraying me with a desperate hope. She can’t mean it, she doesn’t know what she’s saying.

“
Brit, no—”

“It’s not your fault.” She says it again, every word firm and determined. “Look at me, Hunter.” Brit cups my cheek, forcing me to look deep into those beautiful eyes. “Believe me. It was awful, and tragic, but you can’t blame yourself. You made your choices, and Jace made his. And sometimes, sometimes people leave us, and we’ll never know why.”

Her words sink through me, full of sweetness and hope. I reach up to cover her hand with mine, clinging to her, like a drowning man. “You don’t blame me?” I ask, desperate.

“
Oh, Hunter.” Brit’s face creases with heartbreak. “All this time you’ve been carrying this alone. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“
I wanted to be the man you saw in me.” I whisper, still gripping her hand—still not daring to believe. “I didn’t want you to hate me. Please, Brit, I couldn’t live with myself if you—”

“
Shhhh,” Brit leans in and kisses me. Light and soft, her lips barely brush mine but it’s like a ray of sunshine through the darkest storm. “I don’t hate you. I could never. Don’t you see? I love you.”

What?

I pull back to stare at her, wordless with disbelief. Did I just hear that?

Brit’s eyes are shining brightly, the North Star in my darkest hour, guiding me to her. Guiding me home.

“
You’re the only man I’ve ever loved,” she whispers, as something deep inside me breaks wide open, spilling relief and heartache and pure joy into my veins. “I know I keep pushing you away, and I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so fucked up. But it’s you, Hunter. It’s always been you.”