Page 78 of Shattered

I know why it hurts you to let people in, Brayden. Because you let me in and it fucking hurt, didn’t it? It cut like a knife to your veins, bleeding you out every single day. I’m so fucking sorry.

I never deserved you as a brother, but I thank the lord every day I was blessed to enter this world with you by my side.

Keep shattering, Quake.

Love you infinite.

Bex.

Brayden & Bexley

Best Bros

BB for life.

P.S.: Can you do me a favor? Can you go to the store and buy some candy and save me some bro?

“No, no, no!” My voice cracks, the words torn from my throat like shards of glass. The diary slips through my trembling fingers, crashing to the floor. I crumple, my chest collapsing as if someone’s stomping on it. Breathing becomes a pointless struggle. It can’t be true, a cruel twist of fate.

“It was an accident.” He didn’t choose to leave me.

A primal scream echoes through me, reverberating off the walls. I rise to my knees, clutching the diary to my chest. Everything I’ve wrestled with over these past two weeks, thesleepless nights, the unanswered questions, the gaping void in my heart, it all unravels.

Today, at the funeral, I stood in front of his casket, silently pleading for an explanation. But he lied, he fucking lied in my dreams. He didn’t mean to leave me. He fought for us.

The sobs come in waves, crashing over me. The room spins, blurring into a chaotic whirlwind of memories and pain. I can’t stay here, can’t bear the weight of this grief that blankets this room. I pull myself up, my legs wobbly, and grab the UV pen from the floor. It’s my lifeline now, the secrets etched in invisible ink.

Stumbling toward the door, I gulp in ragged breaths. The world outside beckons, a place where I can scream at the sky, where the grass cushions my fall. My knees buckle, and I collapse, unable to move. The pain wells up, threatening to drown me. I release the agony.

“Come back, Bex,” I plead, my voice torn by desperation. I scream at the vast sky, as if my cries could summon him from wherever he’s gone. But the heavens remain silent.

“Brayden,” Daxton’s worried voice comes from somewhere behind, but I stand up and I don’t turn back. I stumble away as much as my legs will take me. Away from everyone. I can’t see Bohdi. Not now. Not like this. The ache in my chest threatens to consume me as I stagger away from the trailer park and there’s only one place I want to be right now.

Chapter forty-two

Bohdi

Today weighed on me in ways I can’t fully express. The funeral, the raw grief etched across Brayden’s face, shattered me. I gripped the chair, desperate to cross the distance and offer comfort. When he addressed Bexley, it felt like a thousand knives piercing my heart. His pain consumed us all, isolating them both in their shared loss. I felt every stab.

But it also resurrected memories of Jace, the ache, the unanswerable questions. Why did it happen to someone so pure, someone undeserving? Kal and Tray held Brayden, supporting him, and I wished it were me.

When Denny stepped forward, I was desperate to follow, but the questions buzzed around us like gnats. “Why’s Mr. Stiles, the marketing teacher, here?” they whispered. I claimed my presence was for my student, but Denny’s gaze sliced through my facade. He nodded, eyes squinting, and settled a few seats away. It felt as if his stare bore into me, yet every time I glancedhis way, he wasn’t watching. My subconscious played tricks on me.

Glancing at the time in my truck, it’s been over an hour since Bray was dropped off. I said to him he could take his time, but I’m worried he’s not doing well and he’s there on his own. I tap away on the steering wheel, debating what to do. I can’t sit here wondering if he’s OK. I need to hold him and tell him I’ve got him, no matter what. What was I thinking about leaving him on his own after everything that happened today?

Turning the engine on, I head toward the trailer park down the road. Pulling up, everything seems quiet, but once I pull up outside Brayden’s mom’s trailer, Daxton comes rushing out, fear drowning his face.

“Sir, sir!” His hands wave me down as his eyes go wide.

“Where is he?” I run toward the trailer door.

“He’s not here.” Daxton’s gasps come out choppy. “He ran out of the park. He was in a bad way.” Worry etches his face as his brows pinch together. He gulps. “He was as bad as the day I found him. I tried speaking with him, but he stumbled away. He was a mess, sir. I didn’t know what to do. I don’t have anyone’s number an—”

“What way did he go, Daxton? What fucking way.” I shake him.

“That way.” His lip trembles, but I can’t think about that right now. I jump in the truck and drive.

I’ve been driving around for three hours, my mind racing. I reached out to Tray on Instagram, who informed Kal. We’vesearched tirelessly, but there’s no sign of him. My fingers clutch my hair, desperate. Where the hell could he be? In his state, he could be anywhere. Kal and Tray searched all the bars around campus. But he’s vanished. My phone rings and I pick it up instantly without even looking at who it is.

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