I look up at the guy seated on the bench, his head bowed into his hands. Holden.
Fury and grief and pain and every other emotion I’ve kept buried since I got the call of Tyler’s death comes rushing to the surface. And I’m on my feet and storming toward him.
“You bastard—”
His head jerks up. Mouth parts. Eyes squint. “What?”
Every nerve in my body is flaring, firing off in loud pops that pulse in my vision. My limbs tremble with restraint. “Where were you? Tyler said he was supposed to meet you. That you were supposed to hang out that night.” I take a ragged breath. “But you weren’t with him. Why?”
I haven’t seen Holden Marks since he left right after he graduated high school. And when he bounds up and moves toward me, I remember just how much taller he is than Tyler. How much taller than me he always was.
He towers over me now. I tilt my head back to look into his face and notice the trace of a tattoo on his neck, just peeking out against the collar of his black button-up. His dark hair falls forward, nearly covering his icy blue eyes. He draws in his bottom lip, pulling his lip ring into his mouth. Something passes over his face quickly, almost too quickly to discern. But it was there. Confusion, maybe.
“I was supposed to meet Tyler,” he says. It’s a statement, him repeating my words back to me, but there’s a question in it. As if he’s only saying it to give himself enough time to form a real answer. “I was supposed to be . . . and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Sam.”
My anger vanishes. As quickly as it was triggered, it disappears, leaving me reeling. The cold air is suddenly biting. I know, somewhere in the depth of my soul, buried beneath the hurt and anguish, it’s not Holden’s fault. But damn it. I need someone to blame. Things like this, horrible tragedies, they have to have a reason why. Something or someone has to be the cause. Because I can’t go on in a world where horrible things happen for no reason at all.
“I’m sorry, Sam,” Holden says again, and I break.
My knees buckle, and gravity pulls me downward. Only Holden reaches out in time to catch me before I hit the ground. His arms encircle me, cradling my body against his, as I’m wracked with sobs. His embrace is familiar, eliciting memories from too long ago.
His hand strokes my hair, and I’m ashamed that I’m allowing him to comfort me. He’s just lost his only brother, not more than half a year after losing his mother. I should be consoling him, standing by while he cries and shouts about how life isn’t fair.
Pushing against his hard chest, I back away. “I’m sorry.” I shake my head. “I have to go.”
“Sam . . . don’t. It’s okay.”
His hand reaches out for me, but I don’t look at him as I turn and head in the opposite direction. I don’t know where. Just away.
I meant what I said. But somewhere deep down, I still blame him for not being there to protect his brother that night. And I always will. It’s as much his fault as it is mine.
Sam
The crickets’ chirring grows louder, ringing in my ears like a siren. They cancel out the heavy footfalls I don’t hear until too late.
“I hear you dropped out of school.”
Holden’s deep baritone startles me and I almost turn around. Catching myself, I force my gaze to hold the last bit of sunset over the pond.
It’s more than blaming Holden for abandoning Tyler—more than being near someone who reminds me of the boyfriend I lost. We haven’t really talked since I was a freshman in high school, after our falling out.
And since then, something’s happened to not only him but all the Marks’ men. After Shannon’s death, everything changed. Tyler and I, we always told each other everything. No secrets. Since we were scribbling with chalk on our driveways and eating dirt just to see what it tasted like, we shared it all.
But Tyler was keeping something from me. I could sense it. Something that had to do with his mother’s death. I never pried, though, because losing her was the worst thing that ever happened to Tyler. A darkness entered him after the night Holden picked up their mother from a restaurant and she never made it home. Tyler never got past it. Neither did Mr. Marks.
He never forgave Holden. Even though the police report stated Holden’s blood alcohol level was well below the legal limit, and he was never convicted, Mr. Marks disowned his son, forbidding Tyler to contact him.
Tyler was meeting Holden in secret the night he was hit by that car. Holden’s birthday had been the week before; he’d turned twenty-three. Tyler said his brother was only back for a night, just long enough for them to celebrate. Before that, they hadn’t seen each other in just over six months. As hurt and as angry as Mr. Marks was, I was shocked he wouldn’t allow his son to attend his own mother’s funeral.