Page 30 of Eight Years Gone

“Grace—”

“No!” Not interested in listening to anything that her father had to say, she elbowed past him, moving into Jagger’s room, breathing him in as she plucked up the things that she knew he loved best, tossing them into the bags along with her stuff.

She picked up a picture frame of their smiling faces and lost it all over again with the next wave of despair. “God, Dad. How could you do this to me?”

He crossed his arms. “He’s never been good enough for you.”

“He was good enough when he won you your games.”

“Eventually, you’ll move on—”

“You go to hell!” she screamed, rushing across the room, barely stopping herself from balling up her fists and punching him.

He hadn’t given her a choice in the matter. He’d decided her life for her when he’d never had the right.

When her father had confessed to her that he’d demanded that Jagger leave—that he’d threatened to cut her off and ruin her internship, she’d been frantic to find him.

She’d spent what was left of the night searching for him everywhere she could think of, eventually remembering her father’s friendship with Colonel Hinders and the colonel’s obsessive interest in Jagger’s remarkable abilities.

After ransacking Dad’s home office late in the morning, she’d found the colonel’s address. Within minutes, she’d raced out the door, heading to Hagerstown, Maryland, eager to convince the love of her life to come home.

When she arrived four hours later, she’d nearly wept with relief when she spotted Jagger’s car in the colonel’s driveway. She’d given a hopeful knock on the front door, certain that everything would be okay if she and Jagger could talk.

When the colonel told her that Jagger had left earlier that morning, she’d refused to believe him, pushing past the man, calling for Jagger as she moved from room to room, certain that he had to be there.

When she found Jagger’s cell phone and one of the sweatshirts he kept in the trunk of his car folded in half on the guest bed, she’d grabbed them both and headed back toward Pennsylvania in a hazy trance, unsure of how she’d go on.

“Grace,” Dad tried again.

Her breath heaved in and out as she attempted to step around him. “Get out of my way.”

Dad refused to move.

She clenched her teeth, finding herself on the slippery edge of shattering entirely. “I swear to God I’ll jump out the damn window before I’ll let you keep me here.”

Dad stepped aside.

Without a last look, she ran down the stairs and outside, with Dad following her to her car.

“Where are you going?”

“To Aunt Maggie’s.”

“That’s a three-hour drive. You’ve barely slept. You’re half-wild, Grace.”

She was more than half-wild. She’d never felt as unglued as she did right now. Without warning, everything about her life had imploded. Nothing was the same as it had been twenty-four hours ago.

Yesterday, she and Jagger were packing for college, laughing, and making love. Yesterday, Logan had been alive. “Since when do you care.”

“I’m your father.”

This time she struck out as she whirled around, cracking him on the cheek with her palm, watching him recoil and press his hand to his face. “How dare you! You’ve hardly been around. You forgot what that word meant shortly after Mom died.”

“Grace—”

“What happened to Logan isn’t Jagger’s fault,” she continued, eager to hurt him as much as he had her. “It’s yours. He’s dead because of you! He was never, ever good enough for you! You always pushed and pushed and pushed! It’s hardly a wonder he turned to the pills!”

Tears tracked down his cheeks. “I did the best I could.”

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