My voice cracks. “I can’t—” A sob punches out of me. “I can’t go to that dark place again. I need you, man. Please.”
“Stay where you are,” he says, already moving. I hear Maverick’s voice in the background—what’s wrong?—then tires on gravel, doors slamming.
It takes less than five minutes before I hear my brother’s truck rumble onto my driveway.
I’m still on the floor, my palms pressed to my ribs, as my breath comes in shallow pulls.
Carter’s the first through, his boots heavy against the boards. He drops to a knee beside me, his big hand gripping my shoulder.
“Hey, hey, look at me,” he says quietly, moving his hand from my shoulder, holding my face.
Maverick crouches on the opposite side, his eyes wide and his voice softer than I’ve ever heard. “Breathe, Reed. Slow it down. In through your nose.”
I take a shaky breath in, then another.
Carter’s hand remains still as he stays there, grounding me with the kind of patience that only someone who’s been through their own hell possesses.
The fire crackles softly, casting long shadows across the room, and the scent of spilled whiskey blends with the smoke.
Maverick leans back on his heels, exhaling. “You saw it again, didn’t you?”
I nod, releasing myself from Carter’s hold, wiping my face with the back of my wrist. “Every fucking second.”
Carter’s voice is low, careful. “You’re not there anymore, Reed. You hear me? You made it out.”
“I left him,” I rasp. “I took off my gear, he told me to go, and I did.”
Maverick shakes his head. “You didn’t leave him; you tried to save him. That’s what you do.”
I look between them, Carter’s jaw clenched, Maverick’seyes bright with worry, and something in my chest finally breaks.
The tears come again, quickly.
Carter pulls me into a brotherly hug, holding me tight, and Maverick joins in.
For a long time, no one talks. The only sound is the soft crackle of the fire and the wind against the windows.
When the shaking finally stops, I pull back, clearing my throat. “Thanks for coming.”
Carter squeezes the back of my neck. “You call us every time before it gets that bad. You don’t do this alone again, you hear me?”
Maverick gives me that crooked grin that’s half-joke, half-love. “We’d kick your ass if you didn’t.”
A broken laugh slips out of me.
I glance between them, my brothers, and give them a small smile.
Two days.
Layla will be here in two days.
Sunshine in the shape of a woman.
layla
. . .
My suitcase sits open on the bed, half full of folded clothes and half full of nerves. The air feels heavy, like it always does when Brian’s in one of his moods.
