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“Do you remember what you said to me that first time you took me to the graveyard?” His voice shook, and tears sprang up in the corners of Regan’s eyes.
“It was months after she was buried. I didn’t make the funeral because I was still in the hospital. And the first time I was able to go and pay my respects to my mother, you said…” Wyatt looked away, his gaze on the window and the darkness beyond.
“You told me it was my fault she was six feet under.” His voice broke, and Regan’s heart shattered along with it.
“I was nine years old. I held her hand while she took her last breath. I listened to her talk about how much she loved all of us. Hudson. Travis. Me.” He turned back to John. “You. After she died, as young as I was, I was grateful she wasn’t alone. Grateful that I was there with her to comfort her in those last moments. Do you want to know what her last words were, old man?”
John was silent and made no effort to wipe away the tears that flowed freely down his face.
“She told me to take care of you because this would break you. Said you were a strong man when it came to most things, but this, her dying, was something that would bring you down.” Angrily, Wyatt swiped at his face. “And I tried. Even after that day by the graveyard, I tried. But you didn’t want my help, or Hudson’s. Hell, I think you forgot Travis even existed. Not a great way to honor my mom’s legacy, but I guess I wasn’t strong enough.”
John’s gaze fell. “I was the weak one, and it’s a hard thing to admit, one that’s taken me years to do so. You boys deserved a lot more than I could ever give you, and there isn’t a day goes by that I don’t wish I’d been the one in that car.”
“John.” Darlene stood. “Please don’t talk like that.” She glanced at Regan. “I think we should go.”
Regan nodded and whispered, “I’m sorry.” She grabbed their coats, aware that Wyatt had retreated to the kitchen, hidden in the shadows with his back to them. There were no more words, and after she closed the door behind Darlene and John, Regan stood in the foyer, cold and shivering and so miserable, she didn’t know what to do.
She was more confused than ever, and watching Wyatt hurt and in pain made her sick to her stomach.
Slowly, she made her way to the dining room table and tidied up the dishes, stacking them neatly on the island. Wyatt still stared out her kitchen window, and she paused, unsure how to proceed and scared that she’d lost him forever.
“Why would you invite him here?” Wyatt sounded cold. Bitter. Not at all like the man she’d come to love.
She walked into the kitchen and stood behind him, wanting to touch and to hold, but so very afraid to do so.
“I don’t know. I’m sorry,” she managed to say before bursting into to tears. “I just…We’re all worried about you. We care about you.”
I love you.
She spoke quickly, trying to get her words out. Trying to make him understand. “I didn’t know what to do. How to help. I just need to know that you’re okay. If you tell met that, I’ll believe
you.”
Wyatt turned to her, his face hard. “I’ve got to tell you, Regan, that was the wrong way to go.” He ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. “I can’t believe he fucked around on my mother. He’s the reason she died. She was upset and not watching the road and…” He swore and looked away.
Regan reached for him, but he moved away, breaking her heart as he did so.
“I have to go. I need to get ready to fly out tomorrow.”
Shaking, Regan wrapped her arms around her body, trying to find what little bit of warmth she could. “I know you’re angry.”
“I’m beyond angry.” His dark eyes told her that and so much more. “Way the hell beyond angry.”
“I understand.”
Wyatt cut her off and pushed past her. “You don’t. If you did, you never would have called him here.” He stopped in his tracks. “Neither you or Hudson took the time to ask why I want to race at Daytona. What it means to me. Why I do it.”
She swallowed thickly and managed to speak. “Why?”
“Because I have to.”
He grabbed his coat and closed the door behind him, leaving Regan alone. She sank to the floor and cradled Bella in her lap. She had no tears. She had nothing.
She looked around her empty home. Nothing.
Chapter 29
Race day was always electric no matter where you were. But something about Daytona was special. The crowd’s energy was contagious, and Wyatt fed on it, pacing nervously in the pit. Up until a few years ago, he’d spent a good amount of time puking his guts out, and though it had been a while since he’d done that, it just might happen again.
