Page 104 of Whistle

The confession dropped like a bomb, and you’d think, after all this time of locking it away inside me, that letting it free, voicing those words, would make me lighter.

It wasn’t confessing that would make me feel a modicum of atonement, though. What I needed was forgiveness.

An aggressive, almost angry sound rumbled in his throat, and he reached out to grab a handful of my hair and tug. “What happened is not your fault.” His voice was low but so impassioned that it filled me up inside. Blinking, I looked at him. “Cobalt killed her. Not you. Not me. Cobalt.”

“I wasn’t there,” I whispered.

“I was, and I still couldn’t save her.”

“That’s different,” I argued.

“Why? Because he drugged me?”

I nodded.

“He probably would have done the same to you.”

I met his eyes, no longer shuttered but the eyes of my old best friend. “I should have been there, Jason.”

“Honestly, I’m glad as hell you weren’t.”

His words surprised me. So much that I gasped.

His lip curled up, amusement glittering in his eyes. “Who knows what would have gone down if you had been there? If you would have gotten hurt too. Or worse. Honestly, just losing one of my best friends was a mindfuck. I never would have survived if it had been you both.”

“I thought you hated me.”

“I tried to. But really, what I hated was that the guy I trusted more than anyone else believed I could do something so gnarly. That you didn’t even have enough respect for me to even talk to me. To hear me out.”

“I couldn’t hear you out, Rush. It would have made it harder to honor Brynne.”

“Yeah.” He spoke quietly. “Yeah, I get that now.”

Releasing my hair, he reclined back in the chair, casually lifting the cup for a long drink. “Should have burned down the main house,” he said with coffee still on his lips.

I burst out laughing, drawing a few stares. But the humor died quickly, the heaviness of life not allowing it to remain. “You came when I called.”

“I told you, even though I tried, I couldn’t hate you.”

I nodded.

He leaned in, vehemence in his tone. “You’re better than this, Bodhi. Better than the drugs, the alcohol, and whatever else you got involved in. Brynne died, but you didn’t. She wouldn’t want this life for you. Deep down, you know it.”

A flash of defiance coursed through me and, with it, the searing heat of anger. He made it sound so easy. He made it look easy.

It wasn’t.

“Not everyone can just start over like you,” I bit out.

“You think it was easy?” He challenged. “It wasn’t. But it’s worth it.”

I fought the urge to throw out more barbs. To tell him he had a whole group of people who helped him, who embraced him. Who did I have?

A man who said he wanted me but kept me a secret. And Rush, the ex-best friend I thought hated me up until five minutes ago.

But he doesn’t hate you. Was there a chance Rush and I could get back the friendship I’d regretted losing every day?

Leaning back in his seat, Rush’s wide shoulders shifted as he reached into the pocket of his sweats. When he drew back, there was a card in his hand.

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