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“Shit,” Derek whispered before a shout fell through his lips. “Fuck!”
His outburst threw me for a loop, and I wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m sorry if I upset you bringing you out here,” I said, feeling guilty for my idea. I thought it would help him.
“No, you don’t get it,” he said as tears began falling down his cheeks. He placed his hands on top of his head as the emotions poured out. “You don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
“Any of this.” He swallowed hard and placed his hands behind his head. “Everything my brother went through is my fucking fault.”
I narrowed my eyes, baffled. “What are you talking about?”
“All his struggles, all his pain. Him being stuck with Cole, it’s all on me. And here he is planting Mom’s favorite flowers out of guilt for something that wasn’t even his fault.”
“Derek. What’s going on?”
“The accident. It wasn’t him.” His head dropped and tears fell quickly down his cheeks. His whole body shook as he spoke words that turned the whole world upside down. “It was me, Kennedy. It was me. I shot her. I killed our mother, not Jax.”
The words rocked me, and the silence that filled the woods was terrifying.
I took a few steps back. “What? No. Jax did it. I know you probably blame yourself because you took him out there, but—”
“No,” Derek disagreed. “I did it. I pulled the trigger, Kennedy. The safety was on his gun. He didn’t turn off the safety. I did it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shot her. I killed my mother.”
He began sobbing uncontrollably as he unfolded his truths. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to move forward with everything that was coming out of Derek’s mouth. He shot his mother? He killed Elizabeth and allowed Jax to live with the idea that he was the one who pulled the trigger?
What the hell was going on?
37
Derek
Seventeen years old
Cole called off Jax’s summer camp trip. He wouldn’t let him go, because Jax didn’t kill the deer. Mom fought Cole to let Jax go, but he said it was his money and he wasn’t sending his weak son to camp.
Mom and Cole fought all the time lately, and I couldn’t stand it. It was just like before, when Mom fought with my Dad. I hated the yelling, but I hated the thought of us leaving Cole more. I knew Mom would leave him, though, if Jax didn’t get his shit together. I already lost one dad, and I didn’t want to lose another.
For the most part, Cole was everything I wanted in a father. He came to all my football games. We fished together. We went hunting. He was fucking amazing. Sure, he didn’t give Jax the easiest time, but that was Jax’s fault. He acted like a baby all the time. If he would act like a boy and not a little girl, Cole would treat him like he treated me. Then, Mom and Cole would be happy, and everything would be okay. I was going to make sure of it.
“Get out of bed,” I barked, walking into Jax’s bedroom and shoving him in the shoulder late one afternoon after another day of Mom and Cole fighting. “We have to get out and do it fast.”
“Do what?”
“You have to kill a deer if Cole is ever going to forgive you.”
Jax’s face dropped as panic shot through him. “No, no. I c-c-can’t do it,” he stuttered.
I yanked his blanket off and pulled him out of the bed. “Yes, you can, Jax. You’re just scared.”
“I’m not,” he lied. He was terrified.
“Yes, you are. Now, come on. Do you really want to be the reason Mom leaves Cole? You want your parents to break up?
“No.”
“Then come on.”
“We can’t even get the guns. Dad keeps them locked up.”
I dangled Cole’s set of keys in front of his face. “I got it. Come on, now before they realize we aren’t in bed.”
Jax stood still for a moment, and I groaned, slapping the palm of my hand to my forehead. “Jax, now’s the time. Be scared forever, or just fucking do it,” I said, my eyes piercing into his. His stare looked so gentle, like Mom’s. He was soft like her, too. Emotional. Cole said they were too emotional for their own good.
“Don’t you want Cole to love you like he loves me?” I pestered.
That got him to stand up.
I dragged him out of the bedroom and made him toss on his tennis shoes. He followed me to the shed, where we got the guns. “Take Cole’s gun,” I ordered. “He’ll be impressed to hear you killed a deer with his favorite gun.”
Once we got outside, I made sure Jax steadied the gun. He was shaking so damn much.
