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Brad puts his hand on my shoulder from behind. “I heard you calling the hospital. I know you tried to stop her.”
“I was too late, though. She took the pills she’d been saving. She was gone before I even called the hospital.”
Brad squeezes my shoulder. “She fought for so long. We all knew she wanted to go on her own terms. You can’t blame yourself for that.”
I look out at the open road, the sun shining bright on the pavement, pine trees lining both sides. “I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner. I’m surprised Kemp was able to find her toxicology report to be honest. The hospital didn’t even question the amount of meds in her system. I assume they thought she was just too weak to handle it.”
“Jane must have helped him with the report,” Colin says, his gaze out the passenger window before flicking his gaze toward me. “No one blames you, Zane. I knew how she felt. I’m disappointed she didn’t want the treatment we signed her up for, but I knew she was ready to go, just as much as I know she’d have wanted us to move on.”
Moving on seems like such an arbitrary thought after everything we’ve all been through lately. Then again, for the first time in three years, I know we’re all feeling something again. We’ve found a new purpose. Hell, just looking at Sara laid out on Brad’s lap warms the fuck out of my heart. She’s so peaceful.
“Do you believe in fate?” Colin asks, rolling his window down a bit to counteract the pressure in the SUV. “It sounds like hocus pocus shit but I swear… it’s so random how we met Sara right when she needed us. Or how much different their lives could’ve been without getting on the wrong plane. Who the hell knows what Kemp would’ve done with her had she not had us around?”
“I’m pretty sure her mother would’ve shot them both,” Brad says with a light chuckle in his throat.
It shouldn’t be amusing, but it is. Not in a funny sort of way, but in the way that makes you laugh a little because of how crazy it is.
“Love can make you do some pretty incredible things,” I say, going over the last suspension bridge before we hit the Alaska sign up ahead.
“Love,” Colin repeats. “I’m surprised to hear that from you. You’re usually slower to warm.”
“You aren’t in love?” I ask, knowing full well he’s most definitely feeling the same way I am.
“I am. It’s crazy, but I am. I couldn’t imagine life without Sara.”
“I think that’s what love is,” Brad says, still stroking Sara’s hair in the backseat. “It’s crazy. I’m not sure it’s supposed to make any sense. It’s a feeling.”
“So then maybe when we get settled, we do this right and make it permanent. Make her feel like she deserves to feel.”
The men concur with a slight nod as we reach the border patrol agent window. We’d been so wrapped up in conversation for the past hour I haven’t been thinking of what we’ll say. There could be an alert out for our vehicle. Fuck knows where they have cameras stationed at that wharf. We watched the shooting happen. I was there for the death of her husband. Someday someone will think there is a connection.
“ID?” the older gentleman asks, reaching his hand out the window. I showed my passport at the Canadian border without a problem, but the US border is usually stricter. I hand the man our passports and wait as he steps from the booth and leans into the car.
“And who all do we have traveling here today?”
“This is my family,” I say, unsure of how to label each person.
“You’re going to need to wake the woman. I have to make sure she’s okay,” the man says with irritation in his tone.
This is new. We’ve just crossed one border with no more than awhy are you here.
Brad runs his hand down Sara’s back gently, stirring her from sleep. She’s out hard, and it takes a second for her eyes to flutter open.
“Are we there?” Her voice is soft and sweet as she rubs her eyes.
“Almost, princess. We’re at the border. This officer just wants to make sure you’re okay.”
The man taps on Brad’s window and I press the button to roll it down, watching through the rear-view mirror as he questions her.
“Where are you headed today?”
“Alaska,” she says sweetly, still combing her hair into place.
“And what is the nature of your visit?”
She glances toward me, then back at the man. “We’re meeting some friends for some sightseeing.”
“And you know these men?”
