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I sat next to him, ignoring the biting cold of the ground as I grabbed Justin’s hand and continued to hold it, running my thumb along his skin. My job at the moment was to just remind him that I was there for him. To let him know he wasn’t alone.
I could do that. Easy.
The rushing water distracted me and my own thoughts began to drift to all my own problems. There was so much I still needed to resolve. Half of them were being resolved by my lawyer, but the others were things I needed to make decisions on.
What did I want to do with my dad? What kind of relationship did I want to have with him?
What about school? After this year, what was I going to do?
The guys. What did I want from them? Did I take that leap like Peyton told me? Should I be more upfront and just talk to them? Toss it all out there and figure it out sooner rather than later? That scared the shit out of me. Talking about dating and feelings always scared the shit out of me.
“I hadn’t seen him in over a year.” Justin finally spoke, voice thick. “Then suddenly, Aunt Laura is telling me he’s dying and they’re releasing him. That because he doesn’t have family able to take care of him, he’ll be in hospice care until the end. Suddenly, I’m facing all these decisions and thoughts and I don’t know what to do. And no one has any answers for me.”
“Answers to what?” I asked. Justin had a small scar on the back of his hand. I never realized it existed until that moment; it was so faint, nearly faded. It started just where his thumb joined his hand and stretched down toward his wrist, just a little over an inch long. I traced it, letting it hold my focus.
“Should I stay by his side? All anyone tells me is that it’s up to me. But I don’t know what I want. He killed my mom. Beat the shit out of me. Sent me to the hospital. But he’s also the only immediate family I have left. My only remaining blood relative. He’s it. And soon I won’t even have that. I don’t know what I want. I’m only seventeen. What the fuck do I know?”
Angry frustration slipped into his voice as he spoke. He tightened his grip on my hand.
“I can keep seeing him. Keep being subjected to all the shit he did to me. Relive it all. But not just that. The good too. There had been good before and even in between. It wasn’t always shitty, and those memories are there too. Or I can abandon him. Let him die alone and in misery. I could do that too. I need someone to tell me what to do.”
Justin’s blue eyes cleared finally as he stared at me, as if expecting me to have the answers he needed. It broke my heart. Truthfully, I didn’t have an answer for him. This was his to decide. I could, sure. And he’d do it too. I could see that. He’d latch on to my answer and run with it. But if I chose wrong, what would happen?
I’d have to bear his regret. His anger.
It made me feel like a coward.
“I want to tell you,” I admit. “I want to give you an answer, but Justin—”
“Don’t,” he said a little harshly. “Don’t answer like the rest of them. Like Aunt Laura and Toby and Seth and Paxon and Bryan. Don’t give me that same bullshit answer. It’s bullshit. It’s a coward’s answer.”
Blinking back tears, I swallowed the shredded words I nearly said. Glancing around, I wasn’t sure what to give him. What could I do to end his despair? All I could go off of was what I had needed when I had been given the choice to protect my own mother or to let her rot.
To give him what I had wished someone had given me.
I licked my lips. “I just want to make sure whatever you decide to do, you won’t regret it.”
“Don’t—” He was shaking his head again, drawing back. Away from me. “He’s a dying man. He won’t last much longer. I need to know what’s right.”
“Exactly,” I said, drawing on my lesson from Peyton about speaking authoritatively. It was the only way to ensure Justin heard me. He needed me to take control, but this wasn’t something anyone could take control of. I could hold his hand. Lead him to where he needed to be. Let him bask in his thoughts while being by his side. But this. I couldn’t make this decision for him. I took in a sharp breath and moved, pushing away any thoughts about how intimate this was becoming.
Instead of overthinking it, I positioned myself so I was sitting on Justin’s thighs, my knees on either side of him. I rested my hands on his shoulders and made sure I had his attention.
I definitely did as he hyper focused on me. I had his attention now. I swallowed hard, trying to not get choked up. He wanted to desperately grab on to someone and I let him. His hands went to my waist, stilling me on top of him, holding me tightly in place.
“Justin, you need to decide. You do. No one but you can. And that’s fine.” I reached up and played with the hairs at the back of his head. “And if you’re wrong, then you’re wrong. But you aren’t alone. Whatever you choose to do, I’m here for you. If you want to abandon him, never see him again. Then I’m here to help you.”
“He’s dying,” he croaked out.
“That’s true.”
“Abandoning him is cruel. I’m his son.”
“Maybe. But he’s also done cruel things to you. He probably already expects it.”
“If I do what’s right, I stay by his side.”
I licked my lips. Justin followed the movement. “What’s right isn’t always what’s best.”
