Page 20 of The Truths We Seek

“Trent happened,” Meyer says softly and I feel the sob rise from my chest and get stuck in my throat.

Of course Trent fucking happened.

“What we’ve been able to make out is that he went to get information from Tommy, but Tommy wouldn’t give you up. He shot him. It was a quick death, but he never gave you up.”

For a minute, I wonder how Trent found me, but it’s no more than a flicker of a thought as the sobs in my chest win and I start to shake as I cry.

Tommy still tried to keep me safe. Even with Trent likely torturing him. They can tell me it was a quick death, but that doesn’t mean what came before was quick.

Oh, Tommy, I am so sorry.

The mug of chocolate slips from my fingers, but Rory catches it as I feel like I’m breaking all over again. My world feels like the floor just disappeared and I bury my face in my arms as I grip my legs, trying to make myself as small as possible. As if holding myself together physically might mean that I can hold myself together fully.

That’s never going to happen though.

Tommy…

He saved me… and I was his ruin.

“Quinn,” Rory murmurs my name as I’m lifted from the sofa. Moments later, I’m cradled against his chest and I break fully. Sobs rip through me unchecked as I cling to him like a life raft against the waves of devastation that want to take me to their murky depths. “I’m so sorry, Quinn.”

He strokes my hair with one hand, while his other arm locks around me, anchoring me to him.

A hand on my back tells me Meyer is sitting with us, both of them there for me in the worst moment of my life.

I cry until my tears run dry and my throat is hoarse. Rory moves me to sit in Meyer’s lap and I lean against him, but even the warmth from him isn’t enough to break through the ice in my veins. He rubs his hand up and down my spine, sitting with me in the silence of the room.

The sound of footsteps on the wooden floor tells me that Rory leaves the room.

“Is there anything I can do?” Meyer asks when the door closes, and I squeeze my eyes closed.

I try to speak, but it’s like my words are caught in a chokehold of grief, so instead, I shake my head. He holds me tighter, like it might make things better.

But I know better than that. Some wounds can never be healed…

And this one, I don’t think I’ll ever recover from.

* * *

Blinking to stop the sting of my eyes as I stare up at the ceiling of my room, I feel a pressure inside of me building up. The anger, sadness, helplessness… the guilt. I try to escape the torrent of thoughts that haven’t left me all day, but it’s a useless exercise.

Rory and Meyer have both checked on me today, each of them trying to make me feel better, and I know they lost him too. Deep down, I know that. But Tommy was… he was everything I’d never had.

He was someone I could depend on. He showed up for me. He cared for me in a way no one before him ever had. He taught me that some people were worth letting down my walls for. That the outcome was worth the risk.

But now he’s gone.

When I woke up this morning, it was like there was a weight on my chest again and I couldn’t breathe. The blood that stains my hands, whether my fault or not, is very real. Even if not physically, I know the deaths that have happened the last few weeks are because of me.

The guards.

The drivers.

My heart shatters in my chest because I can still barely bring myself to acknowledge the last one…

Tommy.

All he ever did was help me, and now he’s dead.

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