Page 75 of From the Wreckage
“Try me.” Her voice is steady, her gaze unwavering.
And for the first time in years, I want to believe someone could stay. That I won’t end up all alone like I deserve.
CHAPTER 51
Everett
I stand,carefully balancing my weight on the boat, unable to sit still with her looking at me like that—like I’m worth something. Like I’m not the monster I know I am.
I pull my shirt off in one sharp motion, letting her look at me. Really look at me.
Her eyes widen, her breath catching when the sunlight spills over my torso. The scars are impossible to miss. Pale, jagged lines tearing across my ribs and hip. Another running over my shoulder. Ugly reminders carved into flesh.
She reaches out like she wants to touch them but stops. Her gaze drifts up to my face, reading the grave set of my jaw, the haunted look in my eyes.
I brace my hands on my hips, swallowing hard. “You know what I was before all this? Before the cabin. Before I moved to Silverpoint and met your dad and you?”
Her silence is steady and patient. Waiting.
“I was a running back for the Green Bay Packers. Drafted right out of college. First round.” My laugh is bitter. “They called me a dark knight. Fast. Smart. My career rose so damn fast it felt like nothing could touch me.”
Her lips part, surprise flashing in her eyes, but I push on before I lose my nerve.
“During a late November game, I caught the ball and was tackled. Shoulder torn apart. My rotator cuff shredded. Ended my season early. I had surgery. Was given pain pills. Started physical therapy.” I rake a hand down my face. “I was supposed to bounce back, but my folks were in a car accident that winter. Dad broke his hip. Mom cracked some ribs. My brother was deployed overseas, and his wife was home with a newborn. It was just me. So I flew home. Spent weeks hauling groceries, lifting my dad, and helping my mom out of bed. All while I was busted up and becoming hooked on Oxy. Blew through my script in days.”
Her brows knit, her throat working.
“My teammate, Matt, said he knew a guy. That he’d give me something to help me get through. One pill turned into another. And another.” I shake my head, bile rising in my throat. “By the time I made it back to Green Bay, I was gone. Addicted. I thought I was managing it. Thought I was still in control.”
The air thickens between us. Her eyes glisten, but I can’t stop now.
“It was dark,” I whisper, the memory dragging me under. “I was behind the wheel of my SUV. Three of my teammates, Matt, Bryan, and Cole, were with me. We’d been at the bar, celebrating a win. Laughing. Talking shit.” My chest heaves. “I was the most sober of us, if you could call it that. Still had too many beers in me. Still had those pills buzzing in my veins. I felt invincible.”
Her face pales.
“The curve came too fast. My vision blurred. Tires screamed. I jerked the wheel, overcorrected. And then we were airborne.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, but the images persist. “Metal shrieked. Glass exploded. Screams filled my ears. I don’t even know if they were mine or my teammates.” I heave out a breath,lost in the memory. “We hit a tree. The crunch was so loud my ears rang until there was nothing but blood, silence, and then darkness.”
I drag in a ragged breath, forcing my eyes open.
“Matt and Bryan were killed instantly. Cole made it to the hospital, but…” My voice fractures. “He didn’t last the night.”
Her hand flies to her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“And me?” I gesture at the scars, bitterness filling my mouth with a metallic taste. “Broken ribs. Torn shoulder ligaments. Punctured lung. Hip fucked. Head scrambled for months.” I heave out a breath. “Minor injuries from the glass that cut my skin.”
It sounds like someone else’s voice when I whisper, “I should’ve been the one they zipped into a body bag. But I wasn’t. I lived. And I’ve had to carry it every day since.”
The silence stretches between us, thick with the weight of everything I laid bare. My chest heaves like I’ve just played four quarters in the snow.
Bri’s tears fall harder now. Her fingers tremble as they finally reach out, brushing the scar along my ribs. “Everett…” Her whisper is broken.
I choke down the lump in my throat, my voice wrecked. “This is who I am, Bri. Not your dad’s friend. Not some good man. I’m the guy who killed three of his teammates because he thought he was untouchable. You wanted the truth? That’s it. That’s me.”
Shame sears through me, heavy and corrosive. “The news broke. I lost my contract and my career. My parents couldn’t handle it. They were very religious and couldn’t fathom the idea of having an addict as a son. Sick of the headlines about how I killed my teammates, they disowned me.” I run a hand through my hair. “My girlfriend dumped me in public. Said she couldn’t love a man like me.”
The words scrape my throat raw, but I force them out. “And my brother disowned me, too. I’ve never even met my nephew.”
