Page 92 of The Summer of Us

“I know better than anyone what your father did to you. What he took from you. I was worried this would feed your hate—make it stronger. But I sense, I see, a change in you, Linc. I see the boy I met so long ago with your mother. I think you need to do this to close this chapter. This book. Start a new one.” He paused, lifting one eyebrow. “With a pretty girl who makes the best biscuits I’ve ever tasted. And who has given you back the one thing your father took from you that I feared you would never get back.”

“What is that?” I asked quietly.

He put his hand on my shoulder. “The ability to love, Linc. I feared in your quest, you would forget your heart. You would become him. But you didn’t. Instead, you found yourself.”

“Sunny did that for me.”

He met my gaze. He knew my plans, all of them, and he was on board with me.

“Then let’s do this.”

* * *

It was a gloomy day. The skies overhead dark with rain, the air cooler than it had been. Sunny shivered beside me, and I tucked her closer. “This all feels very ominous,” she mumbled.

I chuckled. I personally thought my father was writhing in hell, screaming in rage and shaking his fist at me as he saw what was about to happen.

I hoped the devil gave him a front row seat.

We were far from the house, the hill blocked off and no one allowed to be close. I knew the town was gathered below, watching in anticipation. To the younger generation, it was simply something cool happening—something they would probably never see again in Mission Cove. For others, today had a far more significant meaning.

None more than me.

Anticipation built within me, making my body shake. I hadn’t slept all night, up pacing—wanting, needing, this done. I had planned it for so long, and now that the day was here, I wanted it over. I wanted to move on with my life, my plans, and Sunny.

Beside me, Ned and Abby spoke together. Sunny clung to me, her fingers digging into my waist. I knew she was concerned about my emotional reaction when it happened, but I wasn’t worried.

I had waited too long for this moment.

Sunny had been in the house with Ed earlier, and I knew the drives were somewhere inside. She came out looking resolved and smiling, so I had slipped my hand around hers and squeezed, silently thanking her. She squeezed back, then I tucked her into my side, needing her close.

Ed approached, his entire crew with him. “All the checks are done, Linc. Cameras set up as you asked. Crew accounted for. No heat sources have suddenly appeared. We’re ready.”

“Excellent.”

“Ear protectors,” he yelled, and we all slipped them on our heads.

“Come with me.”

I held Sunny closer, needing her with me for this moment. We stood behind the huge electronic control unit, and Ed nodded. Horns blew, loudspeakers began the countdown. He flipped open the switch. He lifted one side of my ear covering. “When we hit one, you press this. Hard. Got it?”

I swallowed thickly. “Yes.”

Sunny’s breath stuttered, and I stepped forward but reached for her hand. “It’s fine,” I murmured knowing she probably couldn’t hear me, but having to say it anyway. I couldn’t hear the countdown due to the cans over my ears to protect against the sound of the implosion. I held my finger over the button, the digit hovering in midair, watching as Ed counted down the numbers on his fingers.

At ten, my hand began to shake. By five, I was sweating. Adrenaline pumped through my body, making my head hum. Ed nodded in encouragement, and when the count hit one, I didn’t hesitate. I pressed down.

For a second or two, nothing happened. I stared dumbfounded, then it started. Explosions, one after another. The house shook, groaned, fought back, and then with a long, low scream, gave a lengthy shudder and crumbled inward.

Sunny jumped back, startled. I held her tight, watching as plumes of dust shot up as the building settled into the earth. It was exactly as I pictured. Looming one moment, gone the next.

The skies opened, torrents of rain falling, dissipating the dust. It was as if the heavens had decided they, too, wanted no reminder of the house drifting up their way.

That house that had caused me nothing but pain, held a lifetime of tears and sorrow within its walls, was gone.

“Good riddance, old man,” I hissed.

I looked down at Sunny. She gazed up at me with love. “Are you okay?” she mouthed.