Page 67 of What We May Be

Chapter Eighteen

Trevor followed Charlie back inside the motel room, and Sean’s gaze went immediately to their joined hands. One corner of his mouth hitched up, and he did such a piss-poor job of trying to hide it, ducking his chin and pretending the scotch he was pouring was the most interesting thing in the world, that Trevor laughed. “You’re not fooling anyone.”

“Who said I was trying to?” Smiling, Sean capped the bottle and set it aside. “Outside on the patio? I can pull out another chair.”

“Inside.” Charlie untangled their hands, claimed a glass, and led the way to the seating area. She gestured at the room around them. “What I have to say needs to stay inside these four walls. Just between the three of us.”

“All right,” Sean said as he lowered himself onto the near end of the couch.

When Charlie claimed the chair, Trevor joined Sean on the sofa, sitting on his other side. As soon as his ass hit the cushions, Charlie tossed back her scotch and bolted up. Sean moved to stand too, but Trevor put a hand on his thigh. “Let her get this out.”

“But I know.”

Charlie froze midstride between the dining table and them, her dark eyes connecting with Trevor’s, then skipping to Sean’s. “You know?”

“I know how your mother really died that night. Do you?”

He knew.

Trevor was caught between relief and pissed-off anger. What exactly did Sean know? How long had he known? Why hadn’t he said anything? Apparently, pissed-off anger was winning, his white-knuckled grip on Sean’s thigh eliciting a hissed, “Trev.”

He eased his hold as Charlie stepped closer, gripping the back of the chair. “It wasn’t a stranger who ran Mom’s car off the bridge. It was my brother.”

Sean nodded, encouraging her to go on.

“It was raining, and he was speeding, racing to come get me from a date gone horribly wrong.”

“Craig Rowan?”

She nodded. “I called Trevor and Cal, I…” Her words drifted off, eaten by the lump in her throat she visibly strained against. “Another something that was my—”

Nope, they weren’t going there again. “Don’t say it,” Trevor interrupted. “We went through this after we got the letter. It was not your fault. If anyone’s to blame, it’s Craig.”

“The letter?” Sean asked.

“From Cal,” Trevor told him. “We got it the day after the funeral.”

If Charlie’s guilt over Mitch’s and Cal’s deaths had been crushing, it had been twice as bad when she learned the truth about Alice’s. They’d hashed it all out that night over homemade pasta, a bottle of Chianti, and several boxes of tissues, discussing and dispelling the guilt and anger they both felt, and ultimately concluding Craig was the party truly responsible for that awful night their senior year of high school. He’d been the one who’d set in motion the tragic chain of events. That said, Trevor had had to remind Charlie of that on the regular the past month, her tendency toward self-blame compounded by the losses that just kept coming.

“The same day I left again?” Sean asked, and when Trevor nodded, he lowered his chin and ran a hand over his nape. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Charlie circled the chair and sank back into it. “Is that when you found out?”

Sean lowered his arm. “No, I found out the first time I tried to come back to you.”

Trevor almost bolted up himself at that revelation, but Sean clasped his leg, keeping him seated. “Let me get this out, please.”

Trevor simmered down and Sean removed his hand, reaching out to snag his glass for a long swallow. “We need to go back a little further first,” he said. “To the day we graduated police academy.” Trevor sensed this was the part of the story he’d gotten some of the other night. “I got a call from Marie in the parking lot right after the ceremony. You two had already left for the house to get things ready for the party. Cal was there with me and overheard the call. Saul was in emergency surgery. They weren’t sure he was going to make it. Cal told me to go, and he’d let you two know what had happened and why I’d left in such a hurry. I gave him my new badge, my necklace, and the wedding band I’d proposed to you with for safe keeping.”

Trevor touched the base of his throat where his necklace used to rest. “You had yours on you?”

“In my pocket, since I couldn’t wear the necklace with the uniform and since we hadn’t announced the engagement yet.”

Trevor’s heart and stomach sank, betrayal a heavy boulder dragging them down. And if he felt that way…

Charlie trembled where she sat, her face a ghostly pale. Thank goodness she’d sat back down because Trever didn’t think she’d have the legs to stand. He sure as shit didn’t. “He told us you left and weren’t coming back. He gave me the badge, and Trevor the ring and necklace.”

“I figured maybe that’s what happened when you wouldn’t answer my calls.” Sean tossed back the rest of his scotch and slid his glass onto the coffee table next to Trevor’s. “I tried to come back anyway, once Saul recovered, but then Cal used his badge to hold me up at the airport.”

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