Our arms and legs were entangled as I rested my head on his chest. “Thanks for being here.”
He kissed the top of my head. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“What are we?” The question left my lips before I could even think.
His body went rigid. “I don’t know. What should we be? Can you handle my PTSD? I’m difficult to be around.”
My brows furrowed. No, he wasn’t. I hadn’t noticed anything out of normal behavior from him. Sure, he was different than when we were teenagers, more cold. But he was still Flynn. “I can handle everything about you.”
“That’s what Millie told Oliver,” he mumbled.
“Hey, I’m not Millie.”
He sighed. “I know you’re not. But you haven’t seen the anger I carry. I’m not sure you’d want anything to do with me after that. You’ve read the letters, you know what I’m capable of. But you haven’t seen it first hand.”
“Let me decide for myself, Flynn.” I picked my head up and peered at him. “Why don’t you go see Oliver? You seem worried about him.”
“I am worried about him, but I can’t leave you here. Not until they catch Gerald.”
I nodded. “Yeah, but when they do…”
“Then I’ll go visit.” He hugged me tighter. “Can you trust me to stay? I screwed up back then. How can you trust me to be in a relationship again?” Fear shone bright in his eyes but I couldn’t tell what he was afraid of.
I sucked my bottom lip. “I’ve come to terms with it. I mean, yeah. I’m scared you’ll leave again but I don’t want that to be the reason we hold back.”
“I’ll prove it to you day by day. I won’t leave. Let’s take it slow before we slap a label on it. We’ve both changed, and with Gerald I don’t know if it’s the best idea to hop back into the relationship.”
I broke eye contact and rested my head against his chest again. “I guess that’s the best thing to do then.”
Confusion swept through me. It didn’t make sense as to why he was stuck on the label. We shared a strong connection, and he was acting like we were in a relationship. I didn’t get what the difference was. Unless Gerald being out there was shaking him more than I’d thought.
I shut my eyes and held onto him tight. He said he wouldn’t leave, but not making me his made me feel like we weren’t solid. If we weren’t solid, then what was keeping him from leaving?
I pulled up to the farmhouse in my sputtering pick-up truck. I’d barely made it back to the house before the damn thing died. The truck was indestructible, made it through high school to now and I’d driven a shit ton during the years. But a little drive to the town over for a meeting with some factory about selling grain and the transmission was fucked.
I’d forgotten my cell phone at home too, so if I had broken down, I’d have been even more fucked. I hopped out of the truck and said a slew of curse words before making my way inside.
“Flynn, thank goodness you’re home.” Ma greeted me when I came through the front door with cookies and milk laid on the table.
I’d snatched a cookie and a glass and sighed. “The old thing finally died.”
“I heard it when you pulled up. It’s a shame, but I think it’s time for a new vehicle. It was a good truck but a little outdated.” She gave a small smile.
The truck was the only thing my father had ever given me, so she knew it was important.
Her eyes widened as she glanced at my phone on the counter as if she’d remembered something. “Your phone has been going off. At least ten times in the last few minutes.”
A jolt of adrenaline shot through me. Fuck. I hadn’t left Evelyn’s side in two fucking weeks other than for holiday gatherings. I grabbed at the phone and noticed at least twenty missed calls from Oliver. Relief flooded me as I noticed the text message from Evelyn.
Evelyn: I miss you already. Be safe and close that deal! ;) I’m closing the salon early today, so I’ll be home by five.
I checked the time. It was almost seven outside and the sky was dark from the impending storms that were supposed to hit tonight.
I pressed Oliver’s name. It rang once before a feminine voice answered.
“Flynn?” It was Millie’s voice.
My heart dropped like a cement block in my stomach and my throat constricted. There was only one reason she’d be calling me from Oliver’s phone. “Yeah?” My voice was hoarse.
“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Her sobs broke through. “I didn’t—I mean… I found him when I came home from my moms. I’d left our daughter with her, thank God. We were supposed to talk, but when I got home…”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “How'd he do it?”
“What?”
“How did he do it?” I gritted the words out.
She blew her nose before mumbling, “Gunshot to the head.”
The phone slipped out of my hand and on to the kitchen floor. Ma jumped, concern shone in her eyes. Death wasn't kind. I knew that. It killed where it could, taking people far too young, far too good. It didn't care. But death had spared me and Oliver overseas. Death didn’t come for Oliver. Oliver went for death, and death was permanent. I’d never get to talk him through shit again, never be able to call him with my shit.
I’d grieved so many times for my fallen brothers but this was different. Why’d he take his own life? I’d thought he was getting help. A deep emptiness settled in my heart, a shear of nothingness that somehow took over. A heavy weight rested on my shoulders and there was nothing I could do to get out from under it.
When the words wouldn’t come, the tears did. I turned. Ma’s voice sounded
