Page 48 of Save Me

"Took you long enough to get here," she says quietly, motioning me toward her chair.

I blink at her, caught off guard. "Daniel called?"

"He didn't have to call, Brant. I know you." She points at the chair across from her. "Come sit down."

I drop into the armchair, frowning. Not sure where to start. Asking her for the shit I'm about to ask is…fucked up. But I thinkI have to ask anyway, not just for my sake but for hers. Because we've carried this shit for long enough. As much as I want to protect her, I'm not sure that's what I'm doing. I'm not sure I've ever done that by keeping his secrets.

"You aren't okay, son."

"You talked to Daniel."

She shakes her head, huffing. "I didn't have to talk to him. I saw it when you were here last week. I saw it at your office the other day, too. You looked at that sweet girl like she hung the moon, but you still don't believe you deserve happiness."

Jesus Christ. Am I that fucking easy to read? Seems like everyone is reading me like a book lately.

"I'm trying to believe it," I mutter, staring down at my hands. "But I still hear his fucking voice in my head." I swallow. "A lot more since he died."

"Because of the rumors," she says.

I swallow hard, nodding. "I can't fucking shut them out. I thought I could, but…"

She sighs quietly. "I never wanted any of this for you, Brant. When you told me that you didn't want to release the truth, I should have pushed harder."

"It wasn't just about you, Ma. I…fuck." I rake a hand through my hair, exhaling a shaking breath. "I was in the parking garage that day when they slipped in. I saw them, and I fucking drove away anyway. I figured they were lost or there to rob the damn place, and I just didn't give a shit."

"Brantley," she says, her face falling. "Do the police know?"

I nod. "They've always known. I didn't lie to them about it."

"They know he was an addict?"

I jerk my chin in a nod again. "They haven't released the autopsy results because he didn't come back clean. I did when they tested me. They know the truth."

"Why haven't they cleared you if they…?"

I stare at the floor.

She gasps quietly. "You asked them not release a statement clearing you, didn't you?"

"At the time, I thought it was for the best." I grimace, pinching the bridge of my nose. "We'd decided that we weren't going to tell the truth. There was no reason to open that can of worms."

"Brantley," she sighs, shaking her head. "There was every reason."

"I'm realizing that now," I mutter.

"What happened?"

"Isla left." I swallow, trying to push down the ache in the center of my chest. "She… Christ, Ma. I lied to her. I won't blame her if she never forgives me for it. She deserved the truth."

My mother sighs again, her disappointment obvious. "Sometimes, Brantley Eugene, I think you're hellbent on destroying every good thing in your life."

"Sometimes, I wonder the same damn thing."

"So, what are you going to do about it?" she asks bluntly. "You can't keep on this way. I won't allow it. And that sweet girl isn't going to allow it either. It's gone on for long enough already."

"I know." I scrub my hands over my face. "That's why I'm here, Ma. I'm fucking tired of hearing his voice. I'm tired of carrying his secrets. I…" I pause, searching for words. "I think it's time to tell the truth about who and what he really was, Ma. It's the only way either of us will ever truly be able to move on."

I think I started realizing that when she stopped by the office the other day. Even though he's dead and gone, he still haunts her too. He still has his claws in her, leaving her searching through the wreckage for some little sliver of meaning in it. She was there that day, picking through the past, looking for a tiny kernel to cling to, one that might make it less painful. But there isn't one. Not in looking back, anyway. The only way she's goingto find what she's looking for is to let it go. To bury him once and for all.

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