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Taking the sleek cell phone in my hand, I smiled as I stared down at the screen. This would do perfectly—anything to send a message to Davis that he didn’t call the shots anymore, and no one would be catering to him, least of all, my parents.Or me.
13
DAVIS
SIX YEARS AGO
I watchedfrom my truck window as people walked through the hospital’s automatic sliding glass doors. A family huddled together, wiping their faces as they hurried toward the parking lot. Macon’s hospital was only two stories tall, and could only withstand a marginal amount of activity, but the emergency department had efficient nurses, and the surgeons here were respectable.
Still, part of me wished they’d just move him out of this fucking place and away from me. It was the same mental battle I had every week, when I’d make a trip into town. I’d make my rounds, grab my grocery order, food from the diner, reserved books from the library, and the order from the hardware store. Then I’d drive here…and I’d watch.
I’d yet to go in, and I had no idea what he thought of that, if he was even conscious, or knew that I was out here, struggling with my fucking guilt. I’d gotten as far as the walkway, and that was only once. Every other time, I was here, just watching.
I’d done this for two months, and with each week, a part of me withered away a bit more.
Ironic, considering my brother actually was withering away.
The accident was my fault, and now he was in there, alone, and I couldn’t make my body work right so I could go to him. My parents were sick of my excuses, my extended family disgusted by what they saw as indifference.
The town…well, most of them knew about my past, at least what they thought they knew… and most still talked. The rumors I heard circulating about the mountain recluse were getting more intense each time I ventured into town, but I didn’t care.
I just wanted to see him, but every time I tried, I shut down.
I deserved to be in that bed, not him, and that regret would drown me.
14
RAE
I was rollingout dough for a cherry pie when my father made some sort of sound next to me. Looking over, I watched as his face contorted.
“What was that?” My hands stopped mid-roll as worry cut into my movements, making them jerky.
He laughed, rubbing his chest. “Nothing, don’t worry, I’ve already seen a doctor about it.”
I was worried.
“How long ag—”
“Did you see who’s out there?” Rudy, one of the servers asked, interrupting my trail of questioning. I watched as he walked to the sink to wash his hands, then flicked my worried gaze back to the man at my shoulder. My father gave me a look that told me to drop it, but I would definitely be bringing it up again.
“Is it Susan Bowker again? Because I told her she can’t come in here unless she’s fully dressed.”
I laughed along with Christy, the woman who frosted cupcakes next to me.
Rudy barked out a laugh. “No, it’s that recluse guy.”
“Thomas?” my dad asked with a hopeful tone, but hearing that name did the opposite for me, and the lack of recognition bounced off everyone’s faces.
Dad corrected himself. “Davis, I meant Davis.”
“Yeah, he’s outside, across the street, leaning against his motorcycle.”
It had been over a week since our kiss, and the betrayal. And just as long since I had begun turning down his order requests. Every day, a new one came in, confusing me on too many levels. He knew that I would be the one who would be delivering to him, and yet he told my father I was too much work…but he had also said that the conversation around that kiss wasn’t finished. But maybe that was only in regard to coming clean—explaining that my father had asked him to take pity on me. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to kiss me at all.
“I better go out and talk to him.” My dad started untying his apron and washing his hands.
“Why do you have to go out there? Why can’t he come in here to talk to you?”
