I couldn’t go there yet. Maybe Reid simply meant that Shane ran away. He’d said as much before we had our fight. That’s what it had to be. I tried to remain calm as I scrolled through the rest of the text messages. There were lots of “I’m sorrys” and “We need to talks” from Shane right after he’d left, but after the second day, his texts stopped.
I broke in a cold sweat when I saw the next set of messages were only from Reid.
Where are you?
Turn your phone on.
Dylan, come home.
And then the final one,He’s gone.
My fingers trembled as I dialed into my voice mail. Most of the messages were the same as the texts. I scrolled down to the longest one, figuring that’s where I’d get the most information.
Chills raced over my skin when I heard Shane’s sad voice, raspy and dry. “Please believe me. I wasn’t with her. It was all a cover to get my father off my back. I love you. Only you. I want to be with you. Please call me. Please forgive me. Please come back to me. I’m nothing without you.”
A sickening feeling filled the cabin of my car as I clicked on the last voicemail attached to Shane’s number. “Dylan, I’m sorry I couldn’t be everything you needed, everything you deserved. I love you. I always will. I’m sorry.”
A loud sob roared from my chest.
My mind needed the confirmation that my heart already had. I did a quick check of the time stamps on Shane’s voicemails and Reid’s text. The text had come in hours after the final voicemail.
There was one more voicemail from a number I didn’t recognize. Hope filled my chest. Maybe it wasn’t true, after all. Maybe Shane had run away and Reid onlythoughthe was gone. I clicked on it and listened to the most insidious slew of vehemence I had ever heard in my life.
Shane’s father.
“Stay away, you fucking fag. If you show your face around here, around my home, if you for one single second think about showing up at the funeral, just know that I’ll be waiting. I’ll put you in a box right next to him. It’s all your fault he’s there in the first place.”
I opened the door before the vomit came out. It splattered in a loud, wet sound on the pavement.
He was gone.
It was my fault.
I could have saved him.
Instead, I shut him out, let him fall to his own fears; let him do the unthinkable.
I had called him weak, a coward. I had been no better than his father.
I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. All that came was a bitterness like no other.
I’d lost the only person I’d ever loved because I was too proud to listen to him.
So I did the only thing I could think of.
I got in my car and drove. I drove out into the middle of nowhere, hoping that I could escape the sadness.
Turned out, it was sitting next to me the whole ride.
“What the hell, man?” Reid’s smug-ass face is all that greets me as I open the door to my apartment. Running a hand over my face, I shield my eyes from the early morning sun as it glares through the door.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he snickers, sliding past me, Braden on one hip and a bag of what smells like egg sandwiches in the other.
“You brought me breakfast. And I didn’t even have to sleep with you to get it,” I joke through my yawn, closing the door. “What time is it, anyway?”
Reid pulls a face at me over the sleeping with him joke as he puts Braden on the floor, scattering a few toys in front of him. “It’s just after eight.” He pulls breakfast out of the brown paper bag and starts making some coffee in the kitchen.
I don’t have patience for him right now. Punk just woke me up way before I needed to be, on a Saturday, no less. I don’t know what his problem is, but I’d much rather chill with Braden than listen to Reid toss crap around in my kitchen.
