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Dylan’s Redemption(29)

By:Jennifer Ryan


Once she filled the hole, she leaned against the shovel and studied the mound of dirt. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve to be buried beside good and decent people. A good person, she couldn’t have done anything less. She gave him a proper burial. That was for her, not because he deserved or earned her kindness.

Tears continued to track down her cheeks and it pissed her off. Raising the shovel over her head, she swung it as hard as she could at the mound of dirt. When she got the resounding thud she wanted, she picked up the shovel, and did it again. And again. And again. She did it until her arms ached and every last tear on her face dried. Then she stabbed the shovel into the dirt at her father’s head as if she chopped it off and left the shovel there buried almost up to the bottom of the handle.

“Feel better?” Dylan asked from behind her.

Just for good measure, she stepped up on the dirt and jumped up and stomped. She did that a few times, smiling to herself. The bastard deserved to be buried with her boot up his ass. Her little dance upon his grave was as good as she was going to get.

She flopped onto the grass beside the freshly filled grave with her knees up and pulled out a handkerchief from her bag and wiped her face and blew her nose. She reached into her bag and pulled out the two bottles of beer and popped the top on one and downed a huge gulp. Breathing hard, covered in dirt and dust, she didn’t care. A weight had been lifted, leaving her lighter. Free.

Dylan sat next to her, and she offered him the other beer. She’d intended to pour her dad a beer chaser, but where he was, he didn’t need it. Of course, if he was burning in hell, he probably wished for a cold one about now.

Dylan accepted the beer and popped the top. After taking a deep swallow, he bumped his shoulder into hers, then reached out and ran his hand down her hair. Unable to help herself, she leaned into his sweet touch. “All done?”

She smiled, sat straight again, missing his hand on her hair and neck when he took it away to give her some space. “I’m sure it looked pretty childish. And it was,” she admitted, “but I feel better.” She took another swallow and let the cold beer wash the dust from her throat. A slight breeze rustled the leaves in the trees nearby. Peaceful. It had been a long time since she’d felt it.

“It’s not childish to get your anger out. I almost feel sorry for that poor shovel, though. It took one hell of a beating.”

“Yeah, well just be thankful I didn’t come back when he was alive. I’d have buried that shovel in him instead of the dirt.”

“Is that why you’ve stayed away all this time?”

She thought about it and realized more than just Buddy kept her away. “There was nothing left for me here.” That simple, and that complicated.

“Brian was here.”

“At first, I was too angry with him. Then I had my own problems to worry about. There was a time I didn’t care about anything, not even myself. It took a long time to come back to myself and begin to care again.”

“What happened to you, Jess?”

So much happened in such a short period of her life, she wished she could make it all right just by telling him. It wouldn’t be right. Not ever again.

“Life happened to me.”

She caught his frown out the corner of her eye. She’d come back to put the past behind her. She’d made her peace with his leaving and what happened with Hope. She couldn’t change it. Better to move on.

“I spoke to my mother. While she didn’t outright admit to what I can only imagine she said to you in that email to make you so angry and upset with me, she did send it. I’m sorry, Jess. My parents were beyond pissed I gave up my scholarship to college and joined the military. She took it out on you.”

“I get that. I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday. Now that I know it was her, it changes things for me. I’m still angry, but now it’s at the right person.”

“I owe you another apology. Well, probably a couple dozen for everything stupid I ever did to you, but I’m sorry about prom. I should have told my parents I was taking you, stood up for what I wanted, for you, and done it right. I should have picked you up, taken you to dinner, and we should have gone to the dance as a couple. Making you meet me there only made it easier for everyone to tease you more, and for my parents to say that even I didn’t want to admit we were seeing each other. That’s not how I meant it, but that’s the impression I gave to everyone. It contributed to my mother sending that email. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Dylan, that’s the past. It doesn’t matter now.”

“It matters to me.” He took a deep sip of his beer, stared off across the cemetery, and sighed. He shifted next to her and faced her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that night that I was leaving for the military in just a couple of days. I wanted to. I knew you’d be the one person to understand why I needed to do it.”