His voice fades away. He’s talking, but I can’t concentrate. My ears are full of static. I try to inhale, but my lungs don’t respond. I put my hand on the wall. I feel like I’m about to pass out.
“Alec.” Cameron’s voice changes. “Are you okay?”
I open my mouth, but I can’t speak. It feels like something is about to climb out of my chest. Everything is tinging grey. The wall dissolves under my hand. My legs cut out from under me, and suddenly I’m on my knees on the farmhouse floor, heaving for breath.
Cameron is silent for a second.
“Jesus Christ,” he says eventually. “You’re totally messed up, aren’t you?”
I can’t answer. Cameron lowers himself onto the floor by my side. He grabs my face and forces me to look at him. “You’re not okay,” he says. It’s not a question. “Of course you’re not okay. Because you were a kid trying to pull a forage harvester off his dead dad. I’ve been dense. This isn’t just about me.”
“I’m so sorry,” I manage. Jesus, I feel like I’m about to have a stroke. I feel like my organs are shutting down. “Cam, I’mso sorryI couldn’t do it. I tried so hard. I tried…”
His eyes shut. “Don’t be.For God’s sake. You can’t keep blaming yourself for this. You’re going to kill yourself.” His hands grip my shoulders hard, steadying me like anchors. “It’s been years, Alec. Your dad is gone. I am fine. Let it go.Move on.”
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
“But I just told you?—”
“If I let it go,” I say, “it could happen again.If Summer had been hit—” My thoughts are stuttering, stumbling over each other. “I wouldn’t have been able to— It would have ended everything.” I’m shaking and sweating like I’m about to throw up. I jam a hand in my hair. “Jesus,” I pant. “What is wrong with me?”
Cameron tilts his head, watching me. “You love her,” he says.
The words hit me like a cannon to the chest.
He’s right.
I do.
Which is bad. Very, very bad.
“And what does that mean for her?” I manage to spit out. I don’t knowhowto love. All I know how to do is work, and I’m not even good at that. Dimly, I hear the squeak of the front door behind us.
“You didn’t hurt Summer,” Cameron says slowly. “You saved her life.” His hand tightens on me. “Let it go. For all our sakes. Let it go.”
I shake my head. I can’t. I can’t. It’s too dangerous. Something wet touches my face. I wipe it off and stare at the tears on my fingertips.
I’m crying. I look at the wet shine in total disbelief.
I don’t remember the last time I cried. I must have been a child. My dad punished tears out of me when I was very young.
Cameron pushes closer. I jolt as his hand cups my cheek. “Fucksakes,” he growls. “Look at me. It’sfine.”
“What?”
His eyes are shining too. “It’s fine that you’re crying,” he mutters. “It’s fine you’re sad your dad died. It's fine you’re sad I got hurt. I didn’t realise just how…” His face twists. “He blamed you, didn’t he? The night he died. He didn’t die straight away. I heard you talk to him. He said something to you.”
I can’t speak. I just nod.
Cameron’s eyes bore into me. “What did he say?”
“That…” My mind seems to stall, like it doesn’t know how to process the memory. I’ve never told anyone this. I barely even let myself think about it. “That it was my fault. That I’d killed him, and my mum. That raising me was a waste of his life.”
Wetness on my neck. Pain in my hands. A crack in my chest that will never, ever go away.
Cameron’s thumb ticks gently over my cheek, bringing me back. “He was the worst kind of man,” he tells me frankly. “He abused you. And he was wrong. You’re not a waste. You’re a good man, Alec.”
“I’m not good. I hurt you,” I rasp. “I hurt him. I hurt Summer?—”
