I lifted my hands to Elliot’s wrists, and held him tightly to keep from falling over. My leg was hurting me, and my body thrummed with pain from my head all the way down to my injured foot.
“Australia,” I blurted. “You said she was in Australia and . . . you . . . you lied to me.”
“I’m so sorry.” He exhaled. “Ye were so vulnerable, I was terrified ye’d up and die on me too if you knew. I had to lie to protect ye . . . I’m so sorry.”
He was sorry, I could see it in his eyes. He was sincere and he was hurting, likely more than I was. Bailey was his little sister; she was a massive piece of his heart.
“I should have known.” I was shaking. “I should have known that you were lying . . . How could I believe that she wouldn’t call me when I almost died? How could—”
“Sweetheart, don’t,” Elliot interrupted. “Ye had no reason not to believe me. Ye have no memory of the last five years, and ye were strugglin’ enough with the changes in your own life that ye didn’t need Bailey’s death on top of that.”
I could feel each beat my heart took, and it made me feel sick knowing mine was working and Bailey’s was not. It killed me that I was so close to her, but so far away. I’d never be able to cuddle her or laugh with her ever again.
“What happened?” I asked as I squeezed his hands. “And don’t tell me you can’t say or make an excuse . . . I want to know what happened.”
Elliot’s gaze bored into mine, and when he breathed out, I knew he was going to answer my question.
“The night of the crash, there was a London-wide blackout because of a storm. It was uncommonly cold for March – it was below freezing and the roads were a danger because of ice. You and Bailey . . . she was drivin’, she lost control, and the car flipped a few times before it hit the side of a building in Tulse Hill.”
I tried to remember what he was telling me, but there was nothing in my head, only darkness.
“I was on watch, and when we got there . . . she was already gone. The coroner’s report said she died on impact, the driver’s side hit the wall of the buildin’ first and she wasn’t wearin’ her seat belt. I didn’t care about anythin’ other than gettin’ both of you out of the car. Ye were conscious, but barely. There was blood all over ye, and you were in so much pain, honey. I thought ye were gonna die in me arms.”
Tears slid down my cheeks, and he leaned in and kissed them away.
“I got ye out of the car, ran with you away from the flames so the paramedics on scene could take care of ye. I went back for Bailey but it was too late, the car was engulfed by fire and any chance I had of gettin’ her out of the car died with her.”
My legs went from under me, and Elliot quickly enveloped me in his arms and held me against him as the weight of his words descended on me.
“Elliot?”
I didn’t turn or react to his mother’s voice, but he did.
“She’s . . . she’s okay. Just lemme talk to her.”
I wasn’t okay. I felt like I would never be okay again.
“You said I pushed you all away after we broke up and I got with Anderson.”
Elliot’s arms tensed around me. “Ye did.”
“Did I push Bailey away?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why was I in her car with her?” I asked, not understanding. “Why?”
“I . . . I don’t know,” he said, sounding as lost as I felt. “None of us know. Ye rang me from Bailey’s phone, ye left me a voicemail as you were in the car with her, but it’s only left me with more questions than answers.”
I leaned back and stared up at him with wide eyes.
“A voicemail?” I repeated. “I left you a voicemail. D’you still have it? Let me hear it!”
Elliot hesitated for only a moment before he removed one arm from around my body so he could take out his phone. He looked from the phone to me, then back to the phone as he tapped on the screen. He put it on loudspeaker, and we listened.
“Elliot? Elliot? Shit, shit, shit! It’s his voicemail!”
I jolted the second my voice sounded.
“Help us,” I sobbed, clearly terrified. “Oh God. Please, I don’t know what to do! Bailey, what’re we gonna do? It’s so dark, put the high beams on.”
I stared at the phone, a feeling of helplessness filling me. It was my voice I was hearing, mine . . . and I had no memory of ever speaking these words that I was saying with such fear.
“Oh God, oh God!” my voice continued to sob. “Bailey, you’re going too fast!”
The line began to break up somewhat, and it made me tense.
“Tulse Hill,” I said on the call. “Elliot, we’re on – Bailey, slow down!”
“I’m tryin’!” Bailey’s sweet but scared voice screamed. “I can’t stop, it’s black ice! We’re slidin’!”
“Elliot!” my voice blared as the line began to break up. “Elliot, help us. Tulse Hill . . . Please, please . . . going to kill . . . Bailey! Look out!”
A scream from Bailey made my blood run cold. The call ended and I looked up at Elliot.
“Was that when we crashed?” I asked, hearing the worry in my own voice. “Was that . . . was that the moment we crashed and Bailey di-died?”
Elliot was shaking now too as he nodded.
“Elliot,” I whimpered, “what the fuck happened? Why did we sound so scared? I said the words ‘going to kill’ . . . what the hell does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” he answered, his voice filled with frustration and devastation. “I don’t know what any of it means. I don’t, Noah.”
Shame filled me, and so did self-loathing. This was my fault. I had pushed Bailey away along with everyone else in my life,
