Page 2 of The Promises We Broke
Xander would answer the phone and get the news that his worthless little brother had finally managed to crash and burn. Literally. He'd probably be confused at first. Why was his namestill listed as my emergency contact after all these years? Why was he the one getting this call?
Would he even care? Would any of them?
Part of me hoped they wouldn't. It would be easier if they'd written me off completely, deleted me from their lives like a bad memory. They could keep their perfect lives and their happiness. They could keep pretending the fourth Farrington brother had never existed.
But deep down, in the part of me that still remembered what it felt like to belong somewhere, I knew they would care. That was the worst part. They'd drop everything and come running, because that's what family did. Even for family that didn't deserve it.
Even for family that had betrayed them.
The darkness was pulling at me again, soft and welcoming. It would be so easy to sink into it, to let it take me away from the pain and the crushing weight of everything I'd destroyed. So easy to finally stop running.
I'd been running for eleven years. From Willowbrook, from my brothers, from Billie, even from myself. Never letting anyone get close enough to see the rot inside me.
Maybe this was how it was supposed to end. Maybe the universe had finally decided I'd caused enough damage.
My last coherent thought before the void claimed me was relief.
At least this way, when they got the call, it would finally be over for all of us.
Billie
The rehabilitation center was quiet at seven-thirty on a Tuesdayevening, most of the staff long gone for the day. I was finishing my notes on my last patient of the day—excellent range of motion improvement in her shoulder following her rotator cuff surgery—when my phone rang, the sound sharp in the peaceful silence of my office.
Xander's name on the screen made me smile. It had been good seeing him so happy with Blake and little Amelia over the past year. The Farrington family had been through so much, and watching them heal had been like watching a garden bloom after a long, brutal winter. Xander's recovery from alcoholism, his integration back into the family, his relationship with Blake. It had all been beautiful to witness from the sidelines.
"Hey, Xander. What's up?"
The silence on the other end lasted too long. When he spoke, his voice was strained in a way that made my blood run cold. I'd heard that tone before, in the ER when I'd worked at Seattle General. The tone that meant bad news was coming.
"Billie, I need to ask you something, and I need you to know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."
My pen stilled on the page. Outside my office window, the last rays of sunlight were painting the ranch property in shades of gold, highlighting the horses grazing peacefully in the pasture. Normal. Peaceful. About to be shattered.
"What's wrong?"
"It's Gage."
The name hit me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs. I hadn't heard it spoken aloud in... God, how long had it been? Years. Gage Farrington. The boy who'd been my best friend, my first love, my everything. The boy who'd disappeared into the night eleven years ago, leaving nothing behind but a letter that had shattered my heart into so many pieces I'd never quite managed to put it back together right.
I'd trained myself not to think his name. Not to wonder where he was, what he was doing, if he was safe. It was easier that way. Cleaner. But hearing it now, from his brother's lips, brought everything rushing back like a dam bursting.
"What about him?" The words came out steadier than I felt, the professional mask sliding into place automatically. It was a skill I'd perfected over the years, appearing calm when inside I was falling apart.
"He's been in an accident. A bad one." Xander's voice cracked slightly, and I could hear the fear underneath his usual composed demeanor. "Motorcycle versus SUV outside of Portland. He's alive, but…" A shaky breath that made my heart clench. "Broken leg, broken collar bone, bruised spine, extensive road rash. They've got him stabilized, but he's going to need extensive physical therapy."
My professional mind immediately started cataloging the injuries, assessing recovery timelines, treatment protocols. Compound fracture of the femur would require surgical intervention, likely with pins and rods. Collar bone fractures were tricky. They could affect range of motion permanently if not treated properly. Spinal bruising was always a concern for long-term mobility issues. Road rash could lead to infection if not meticulously cared for.
Focusing on the medical facts was easier than processing the emotional earthquake happening in my chest. Easier than dealing with the image of Gage broken and bleeding in a hospital bed somewhere far from home.
"I'm flying out tomorrow morning," Xander continued, and I could hear movement in the background, probably him pacing the way he did when he was stressed. "I was hoping... I know this is a lot to ask, but would you consider taking him on as a patient? I know your caseload is full, and I know you two have history, but he's going to need someone who understands…"
"Yes."
The word was out of my mouth before I'd consciously decided to say it. Before I'd thought about what it would mean to see him again. Before I'd considered whether my heart could handle being in the same room as the man who'd walked away from everything we could have been. Before I'd calculated the professional complications of treating someone I'd once loved with every fiber of my being.
"Billie, are you sure? I know you two have history, and if it's too complicated…"
"It's not complicated." The lie came easily, professionally smooth. I'd gotten good at lying about Gage over the years. Lying about how I felt, about whether I'd moved on. "He's family. Of course I'll help."
