Page 50 of Searching for Valor

Her gaze flicked to the mug of coffee on the weathered wooden table between them, then to the empty bourbon bottle under his chair. “No, but you’re drinking. Don’t tell me that is someone else’s bottle,” she added as he opened his mouth to do just that. “I smell it, Rylan. On your breath, on your clothes. You smell like a distillery.”

He closed his eyes as shame flooded his chest. “It’s only been a few times.”Or more like every fucking night.But if he admitted that…

He already couldn’t stand the pity and fear he heard in her voice.

“Rylan, it’s never just a few times. One time becomes two. Then three. And then you start using again. You know how this goes.”

When he opened his eyes, she was looking at him with that same mix of love and worry he remembered from all those years ago when the drugs and alcohol had been more important than anything else in his life.

His chest tightened at the memory. He’d hurt her so badly back then, pushing her away when all she wanted was to help. And here he was, doing it all over again.

“I’m not using,” he repeated, his voice hoarse. “I swear to you, Rhee. I haven’t touched anything harder than bourbon.”

“The sleeping pills?”

“It was an accident.” At least, he wanted to believe it was. Because the alternative meant…

He didn’t even want to think about it.

She studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “I believe you.”

“I’m not that guy anymore,” he said again, but even he heard the lack of conviction in the words. “I’m not… I can’t be.” He slumped back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. “I won’t go back there. I promise.”

She reached out and took his hand, squeezing gently. “I want to believe that’s true. But I’ve heard that promise before.”

Her words stung, but he couldn’t deny the truth in them. He had made that promise before, multiple times, and broken it just as many.

Rylan felt something inside him crack. Everything drained away, leaving only a bone-deep weariness in its wake. “You should’ve left me on the street back then. It would’ve been easier for everyone.”

Rhiannon’s grip on his hand tightened. “Don’t you dare say that,” she whispered fiercely. “Don’t you ever say that again.”

The raw emotion in her voice made his throat constrict. He swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump that had formed there. “Why not? It’s the truth. I’m poison, Rhee. Everything I touch...” He trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

“That’s not true. You’re a good man who’s been through hell. And you’re hurting. But you’re not poison.”

He laughed bitterly. “Tell that to Alejandro. To Fuse. To Mack. To Shane and Jax. Tell that to everyone I’ve ever let down.”

Mom and Dad.

Aiden Ellison’s family.

Monica, Grace, and Noah Holt.

Izzy…

Fuck, he had let her down, too, hadn’t he? He’d been so focused on his own pain, that he hadn’t stopped to consider hers. The impossible choice she’d been forced to make. The guilt she must be carrying.

“What happened to your team wasn’t your fault,” Rhiannon insisted.

But she didn’t know how he’d hesitated. How when it mattered the most, he froze. And how his team paid the price for his weakness.

Really, he had no fucking business being part of any team ever again.

Why had he thought coming here, joining Redwood Coast Rescue, was a good idea?

He yanked his hand from his sister’s grasp, unable to bear the gentle touch any longer, and stood abruptly, needing to put distance between them. The motion sent his head spinning, and he gripped the porch railing to steady himself.

The last remnants of daylight had faded, leaving the world bathed in cool blue twilight. Stars winked into existence overhead, pinpricks of light in the vast expanse of darkening sky. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees, carrying with it the earthy scent of decaying leaves and damp soil.

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