CHAPTER SIX
I BURSTout laughing. I mean, Clay had done some mean stuff when we were growing up, but this was taking a joke way too goddamn far.
“Matt?”
I squeezed the phone as hard as I could. “Stop fucking lying to me!” I screamed. “Where’s Charlie?”
“I’m not lying, honey,” he soothed, his voice pitched low like he was talking to a mad dog. “I wish I were. His truck went off the road about four miles down from your place. Dale Jensen saw him go over the embankment. He went down about thirty feet, then hit a tree. I’m sorry, but Charlie’s in the hospital.”
I couldn’t draw a breath to speak. He’d been on his way home after dropping off the books. It was my fault. I did this to him. I—
“It’s not your fault, Matthew,” Clay snapped.
There was no way to be certain if he knew me that well or if I had been rambling out loud. Either way, it didn’t matter. Trepidation filled my heart. I dreaded asking my next question, because if Clay didn’t give me a good answer, I would crumble into pieces, and this time I didn’t think anyone could put me back together. “Is he okay?”
You could have cut the tension with a knife. Clay stayed quiet too long, so I knew something bad had happened.
“He was lucky his airbag went off,” Clay said. “That probably saved his life.”
His attempt to placate me did no good. I could feel myself sliding over the precipice. My entire body shook at the thought of Charlie dying, alone at the bottom of the ravine. The images seared my brain, and it hurt to take in air. “Please, Clay….”
He cleared his throat. “I need you to breathe, Matt. Listen to what I’m telling you. He’s hurt, but he’ll be okay. He broke a couple ribs and his right leg, he’s got burns on his face, and he fractured one of his hands. He’s okay, though. Do you understand me, Matt? He’s going to be fine.”
I blew out a breath. I attempted to focus on him saying Charlie would be okay. “What’s going to happen to him?”
He hedged again. I hated it when he did that.
“His sister is coming down in a couple days to take him back to New York,” he answered slowly.
New York? No! I’d come to the decision that I wanted to try to be a better person, to see if maybe Charlie would… what? Overlook my weirdness? Yes, goddammit. That’s exactly what the dream had been. I wanted him to like me, even though I might not be his type. For the first time in years, I finally felt something that wasn’t fear or hurt or anger. I wanted to rage against the injustice, against how fucking unfair it was. Instead I simply said, “Oh.”
“I’m sorry, Matt. So truly sorry. I thought—”
There wasn’t anything left to say. I hung up the phone, then ignored it when it started ringing again. For months I wanted to get rid of Charlie, make him go away so he couldn’t scare me. Now I found that him leaving frightened me even more. I’d be alone again. I fucking hated being alone.
I threw myself on the bed, tears staining my cheeks. I’d always thought of myself as strong because I didn’t need anyone. The lies we tell ourselves are the most damning ones of all, because after a time we start to believe them. The truth had always been too terrible to contemplate. My fears controlled me. It wasn’t what my teacher had done to me. Sure, he might have put me in the cell, but I’d locked the door behind me and thrown away the damn key. I had never been strong, not once since the incident. And though the idea forming in my head scared me to death, Iwouldbe strong today, because the alternative meant running for the rest of my life.
THE CABhonked its horn, and I sucked in a deep breath. For several moments I stared out my window and kept saying it wouldn’t be as bad as I imagined. But no matter what I told myself, I knew it would be.
During the whole trip, I huddled in the backseat, stomach in knots. I wanted—needed—to do this, but in my head, I saw only more problems, regardless of how the conversation went. The cab driver had been less than pleased when he had to drive all the way out to my place, but I’d given my lawyer permission to make it worth his while to chauffeur me around. Obviously it worked, since he’d picked me up.
Getting into the back of this man’s vehicle ranked up there with the toughest things I’d ever done. When the door opened and the stale air and sweaty body odor wafted out, I’d had to swallow back the bile that started to rise in my throat.
“Where you headed, kid?” he barked.
My heart hammered. Every instinct told me what I had set out to do would only cause me pain, but I had to try. For myself, as well as Charlie. “The hospital,” I replied quietly.
Even though Fall Harbor had less than a thousand people, the town’s hospital served the surrounding counties as well, making it a busy place all year round. When the cab pulled up, I got out before he’d even come to a complete stop. Knowing the fare had been paid, I rushed inside, hoping to feel more secure in an enclosed place.
The strong antiseptic smell stung my nose and made me sneeze. I hadn’t been to a hospital or doctor’s office since I’d moved. Fortunately, eating healthy had apparently been good for me, because other than a few colds and one nasty case of the flu where I still tried to force myself to get up and do my chores—that ended with me not having the strength to get out of bed and collapsing back onto it—I didn’t often get sick.
There were so many people bustling around, like little ants, that I wanted to run home. Tension caused my joints to ache, and my stomach knotted so hard it hurt. The only way I could put one foot in front of the other was to keep up a litany in my head that I was doing this for Charlie.
As I followed the signs to the desk, I thought I saw a few people I knew but didn’t have the desire to stop and talk to them. I had come for one thing, and once I had it, I’d hop back into the cab waiting to take me home.
“Can I help you?” the perky blond man—Aaron, according to his name tag—behind the counter asked.
“I’m looking for Charlie Carver’s room, please,” I whispered.
