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He swallows and his expression falls. “People get hurt without hockey too.”
“Were you…hurt? Did you hurt—a lot before you…”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember.”
“I’m sorry, Elliot.”
He frowns like he’s confused about what I’m talking about but dismisses it. “Can I come play with you guys next time? I’d be just as good as you. I’ve been watching, Chase. I know I can do it.”
“Yeah, sure,” I promise. Knowing this is a dream at this point. “You’re always welcome, Elliot.”
His face falls. “You should have told me that. You could have let me try, Chase.”
My mouth twists as I listen to the words I should have said.
“Chase. Chase. Wake up.”
The voice is soft. It’s not mine. It’s not Elliot’s. It’s female—but different. Distinct. Special.
I spring up in my bed as a shiver runs down my spine. I’m sweaty and hot. There’s someone next to me. My head jerks to the gentle touch on my shoulder. Pepper draws back quickly, and I exhale a breath. “Fuck. Thanks. Sorry.”
She releases a careful breath as she shifts back onto her side of the bed, watching me.
I swipe at my forehead, making a mental note to come up with a better sleeping solution while she’s in town.
We cannot share a bed.
I can’t share a bed with anyone—until I get these dreams under control.
“I get them too,” she says softly.
My jaw is tight when I turn to her with a glare. One that I hope she reads as I don’t want to talk about it.
But despite what’s in my head,my lips blurt out anything but a conversation ender. “About…Troy finding you?”
She shakes her head and pulls her knees up to her chest. She’s drowning in my pajama pants, but it doesn’t seem to faze her. “About my parents.”
“Oh.” It’s not any better, but I’m relieved her dreams aren’t about that douchebag.
“That…they didn’t really die,” she continues, and something about her voice—that distant, sad undertone—makes me look at her. There’s a light mist in her eyes. “That…they just left.”
My brows knit. “Like—left you?”
She shakes her head vigorously. “Oh I know they’d never leave me. But my dad had his sentencing the next day...” Her eyes drift.
I remember the timing was suspicious—but it was still a tragedy. There’s no way they could have. I know what this is. I’ve done it. Looked for any possibility that the person you lost is still alive.
“Pepper—they found…”
“I know.” She blinks and nods vigorously. “They would never—intentionally leave me.” Her voice cracks.
Does Pepper think her parents left this world…on purpose?
Feeling guilt over your brother’s death is one thing. Many call it survivor’s guilt, even if Elliot and I weren’t on that ski trip together. But feeling abandoned by your parents—that’s an entirely different ballgame.
Especially as an only child.
“When was the last time?” I ask, surprised at my curiosity.
