Page 18 of Delta
“I’m not going to touch you,” Bradyn says, his voice an echo in my mind. “But we need to get you in my truck, okay?”
Drip, drip, drip.
“Dylan, come on. Let’s get you off the street.”
I take a deep breath. “Yeah.”
Bradyn lifts the box, and I follow him over toward his truck. By the time he’s set the box in the bed of his truck, my heart rate has slowed, and my breathing has regulated—something my older brother realizes as we both climb inside.
“What happened?” he asks.
“She poked me.” I touch my chest where her finger hit. Even through my shirt, I can feel the puckered scar beneath. A scar that exists because I had a dagger driven into my chest so slowly I could feel it tear through each muscle fiber.
“What was the fight about?”
“Some guy was talking to her,” I say, keeping my gaze trained down at my clasped hands in my lap. “I waited around to make sure she was okay. She’s right though. I lost the right to care a long time ago.”
“You didn’t lose the right to care,” Bradyn corrects. “But you did lose your ability to be a part of her life when you closed the door on her.”
None of my brothers pull punches. I don’t either. It’s just not how we were raised. But right now, I wish that Braydn would let me have this one. At least until my breathing regulates.
“What’s with the box?”
“Gifts.”
“From you?”
I nod. “I leave flowers on her porch every year for her birthday.”
“Aww, so that was you. Riley owes me fifty bucks.”
I glare at him as he puts his truck into drive. “You bet on me?”
“Yeah. Riley overheard her quite a few years ago, thanking you, and you denying. So we made a wager.”
“On whether or not I was taking her flowers.”
“Yeah. None of us could catch you in the act. Kudos there, brother.”
As we hit Main Street, we fall into silence. All I can see is her furious expression. Pink cheeks, wide eyes—she was hurt. Was that really all because of me? Or did that stranger say something to her that upset her?
I can’t keep living in this messed-up nightmare of what my life used to be. But I don’t know how to make it stop.
How do I get off this twisted rollercoaster?
“Why were you back in town?”
“Mom said you asked to linger behind. I figured you’d need a ride home, so I came into town looking for you.”
“Yeah, I guess that was good foresight.”
“I thought so. Call it brotherly intuition.”
“It’s good you got there when you did. There’s no telling—” I trail off, not even wanting to think about what could have happened had he not shown up when he did. Would I have completely lost myself to the past? Would I have fought back? Hurt her?
“You wouldn’t have done anything to Emma, Dylan.”
“In those moments, I’m not me anymore.”
