Jace came towards me. There was nothing in his eyes anymore. He was looking at me like I was a stranger once again. He grabbed my arm. I flinched from his hold, but he held firm and dragged me to the door. As he opened it, I saw three security guards. They were waiting for me. He handed me to them and said in my ear, “Stay out of my life.” The guard pulled me into the hallway, but Jace called my name again. I looked up and he added, “If you come back again, I will kill your sister.”
I opened my mouth, but he interrupted me. “I will go to the rehab facility myself to do it.” Then he shut the door in my face.
I had never told him about Mandy, but before I could let that sink in, Brian’s face flashed in my mind and blinding pain overwhelmed me. I fell to the ground. I didn’t know how I got home after that. I didn’t care how I got home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The next day, Tray told me one of Jace’s men had driven me home, and he came out to carry me inside. I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t do anything. I just sat and stared straight ahead, like an empty vessel. He told me that Austin had been scared. When I heard that, a pang of regret went through me. Austin didn’t deserve that. His sister was away. His parents were gone, and now I was acting like a walking corpse. No, that wasn’t true. A walking corpse didn’t feel. I was feeling too much; I couldn’t handle it. I felt like someone thrust a large butcher knife into the middle of my chest, leaving a gaping hole. It was becoming infected, and I was rotting from the inside.
Tray asked if he should call Shelly and Kevin. I asked him why. He jerked his head in a nod, then climbed into bed behind me and wrapped his arms around me.
The week passed like that. I didn’t go to school for the first half of the week. Tray took the counselor’s note to excuse Mandy’s absence, and he explained what happened with me. I was allowed three days to miss and when I went back Thursday, I shouldn’t have been there. I went from class to class. No one talked to me. Everyone watched me. They had all heard about Brian’s death; they just didn’t know I had caused it. Tray helped me. He remained by my side. He had people take notes for me. When he couldn’t be there, he had people carry my books for me.
He told me a few days later that Mandy had called. She wanted to know how I was doing. For some reason, I began laughing at that. She was in rehab, trying to comfort me. Brian had never cared when he was getting help. It had been all about him. She was in his old place, and she was reaching out because of him. Somehow, that was ironic to me, and I couldn’t stop laughing. Austin was in the living room at the time. When he saw the tears rolling down my face and heard the hysterical note in my voice, he threw his video game controller and ran upstairs.
I couldn’t blame him.
Tray frowned and said into the phone, “Maybe in a few days.” He paused, listening to her on the other end and then replied, “Just keep getting better. That helps her.”
I wiped a tear from my face, but couldn’t stop laughing. I sighed. “I’m a mess.”
He didn’t respond. He slid an arm under my leg and the other behind my back, lifting me so I was on his lap, tugging my head so I was leaning into him. My shoulders were shaking as more laughter poured out of me. The laughter soon faded and then there were only tears. When the irony left me, it was replaced with a deeper sadness. The void inside me doubled.
Each night when Tray took me to bed, I laid there, closed my eyes, and willed myself to sleep. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t, but when morning came, I got up. I showered. I dressed. I ate. I went to school. I went through the motions. My birthday came and went. I didn’t remember until it was the day after. A sad laugh formed, but died before it slipped out. I was eighteen now. I didn’t even need to be adopted anymore.
I never told anyone. I didn’t want to deal with any more pity, from anyone.
It was the next week when I found out that Jace had held a small funeral for Brian. I hadn’t been invited. I couldn’t even process that, but I knew it would hurt me later. All I could process was that I wanted to make Jace pay, even more than he was now. This was his fault. No, it was mine too.
I closed my eyes and felt another wave of grief roll through me. It was both of our faults.
“How’d your friend die?”
Austin asked the question from across the table. It was Saturday morning and everyone had slept in, so we were having a late breakfast.
Tray looked to me, waiting to see if I would answer.
A lump was in my throat, hell—it was always there now. I spoke around it, “He was shot.”
“Oh.” He glanced down at his plate and moved his eggs around with his fork. Then his hands gripped the fork tighter and he looked back up. “Why?”