Rescue Me(9)

It rolled back out.

“C’mon!” He slammed his hand on the machine, and the entire box shook.

He blew out a breath. Put in the dollar.

It came back.

He inserted it again.

Again, it came back.

His jaw tightened, and a crazy dark fist wrapped around his chest.

He pressed the dollar in again.

It churned back out.

He closed his eyes, crumpled the dollar, and then with a growl, threw the flimsy paper across the room.

He walked over to the window and put his forehead against the cool surface.

Footsteps in the hallway stopped. The door opened. He didn’t turn, even at the voice.

“Sam?”

Shoot, his eyes were blurry, his cheeks wet. He wasn’t sure how he’d dismantled quite so quickly, so thoroughly, but he couldn’t look at her.

“Are you okay?”

“No.” He wasn’t sure why he admitted that, why he let his voice ring out, broken, febrile. But he just leaned up, stared out onto the lot, the lonely lights puddling against the blackness. “I’m not.”

Silence behind him, but she hadn’t left, so he took it as a sign.

Maybe if he let her in, just a little, they might get to that deeper place, stir something back to life . . . “I thought I was going to die tonight.”

There, he said it. And now that the truth was out, the words kept coming. “I lay there on the ground, the bear standing over me roaring, and I thought—this is it. I’m dying, right here. And not nicely, either. It’s going to hurt.”

She took a step toward him.

“And I wasn’t ready. I mean, who is, really, but I thought, not like this. Not when—well, my mom is still getting over her cancer. And Pete—” He closed his eyes. “Sometimes I think I hate him. So much it makes me want to scream. I want to throw my fist in his face.” He closed his eyes. “I’m so . . . tired. Just tired of hurting and being furious and trying to hold it all together.” He opened his eyes, stared out at the dark parking lot. “The strange thing is, I was lying there, and suddenly I thought of my dad—at least I probably did. Because his words came to me—the fact that bears, all large animals, really, have a pretty bad gag reflex. So, I guess my dad saved me.” He hadn’t thought about that until now.

“And the entire ride in, all I could think of was how much I’d failed him. And not just the night he was lost, but . . .” He ran a thumb and forefinger against his eyes. “Esme, of course. I’ll never forgive myself for not finding her.”

It felt good to say it, even though she probably knew it.

Except, she said nothing.

“And then there’s Pete. My screw-up brother who I can’t seem to save.” Down in the parking lot, a truck pulled under the awning.

“I always thought that, after Dad died, I could figure out how to put our lives back together, you know? Take care of Mom and keep Pete from destroying himself. But—”

“You’re just rattled is all, Sam.” The voice came gently through the darkness, the sound of it different, as if she might be overcome by emotion.

Or compassion. Because that was Sierra, almost too willing to help others.

“You were afraid—that’s normal.”

Her soft tone made him grit his jaw. “I wasn’t just afraid, Sierra. I was . . . I was terrified. I was out of control. I unraveled. I couldn’t even shoot straight, and then I was at the mercy of something that simply wanted to tear me apart.”

He shook his head, his stupid eyes burning again. Wasn’t that going overboard just a little? Still, his breath shuddered, and he felt like an idiot, standing there weeping in front of his girlfriend.

What was his problem? He’d survived, for Pete’s sake.

Maybe, literally, for Pete’s sake.

“Sam, I’m not—”

“Don’t tell anyone. I just need a minute, okay?”

She drew in a breath. “Okay.”

“But come here.”

She didn’t move. And he didn’t want to say it, but maybe in the darkness of the room, in this moment only, “Please?”

Then her arms were around him, and she was pressing herself to his back, holding him. “It’s okay, Sam. You’re not alone. And you’re not going to die out there in the woods, mauled by some rabid bear. You’re safe.”

He didn’t know why, but her words reached in, wrapped around him.

So he turned in her arms, put his own around her, and pulled her tight against him. Feeling her body, soft, molded to his, fitting so perfectly.

This was the moment he’d wanted for them, because holding her like this, he definitely felt some sparks lighting inside.

He closed his eyes, pressed a kiss to her head. Then felt her hand touch his cheek.