Page 95 of Help Me Remember
“No,” I say to myself and possibly aloud. “No, I can’t.”
“What do you want me to do?” Isaac asks. “Brie?”
“Just let me handle it,” I tell him.
Then it’s fuzzy again.
I fight to stay here, to see a face or a name, but I can’t stop the nausea or the anxiety in my chest. This is important. It’s a memory, and I need it.
“Brielle!” Spencer yells, but I tune him out, forcing myself to stay in this memory no matter how painful it is.
I drop down, holding my head in my hands, covering my ears. My brother is rounding the car, trying to reach me. There’s a man. He’s yelling, but I can’t make out anything he’s saying. His face is washed out by sunlight, and the harder I try to see him, the brighter it gets. More yelling. More deep voices, and Isaac pleading as a gun is drawn. The sun glinting off the barrel as it’s moved from left to right. I step toward the unknown man, but Isaac grabs my wrist as he calls my name. He tries to put himself in front of me. The pain in my head blooms again, but I still struggle to see, to reach for Isaac, but then there’s nothing.
My body trembles, and the tears trickle down my cheeks. The pain of seeing Isaac’s face in those flickers of moments is too much. I was there, but I couldn’t see what I needed most. I don’t even know what parking lot we were in.
Slowly, I return to myself, and new words come into focus. “Please, sweetheart, talk to me.” Spencer’s voice is shaky and almost a whisper. His arms are vises, holding all my broken parts together.
“I saw it! I saw . . . I saw it!” I cry as Spencer rocks me in his arms.
“Tell me what you saw.” There’s a crack in his voice, and I can feel his fear mingling with my own.
“The gun. I saw the gun. I saw him grab me and call my name.”
“Did you see who it was?”
“No.” I sob. “I couldn’t.”
“It’s okay, Brielle. It’s okay. You’re safe, and it’s okay.”
But it’s not. I was so close. I had a memory hit me. The most important one, and I couldn’t remember.
I sit in Spencer’s arms, and all I see is Isaac’s face. The fear and worry as he reached for me. I hear his voice, the resolve that he wouldn’t let anything hurt me. I wanted to reach out to him, to tell him to run and save himself and be there for Addy and Elodie. I remember the panic that I wouldn’t see the people I love ever again, that we would both die.
A new wave of agony crashes through me. I look up into his eyes, tears making it hard to see. “Help me forget,” I beg him.
“Brie . . .”
I shake my head, not wanting to be rejected or feel anything other than safe. I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and pull his lips to mine. “Please, help me forget. Take the pain away.”
Or I might drown in it.
ChapterTwenty-One
SPENCER
Her mouth is fused to mine, preventing my refusal from escaping.
If I were being honest with myself, I could stop her if I wanted to.
But I don’t.
I don’t want to stop her or this. I want to get lost in her touch. I love her so fucking much that it’s tearing me apart.
Emmett ripped into me before we left, saying we were going to have a conversation and soon. He sees the way I look at her, the things I thought I was hiding, but he has no idea that Brielle is the first thing in years that makes me feel alive and worthy again.
She didn’t see me as a man with an award or a paycheck. She sees the cracks and broken bits and loves me more for them.
Now it’s her who is broken, and I may not be allowed to help put her back together like she did for me, but I can do this. I can give her what she’s asking for, which is what we both need, and then I’m going straight to hell.
