For the first time in a long while, I feel like there’s a thread I can follow.Something real to hold on to. Something that might actually lead us out of the dark.
And I promise myself, that whatever comes next, I’ll carry this hope, and I’ll carry Chase, the same way I’ve always carried music.
Heart first.
Close to my chest.
Even when no one else can hear it.
Chapter 62Chase
The crunch of rubber against gravel pulls me from a moody guitar riff and sends my heart into overdrive.
Annie.
Pulse revving, I toss the instrument aside and launch to my feet, a cacophony of voices seeping in from the back deck as my friends scarf down burgers and beer, twilight turning the sky a blurry coppery hue. It’s been days since I felt her cocooned against me, her heat and joy and love the only antidote to this constant state of disrepair.
Toaster follows me to the front of the house, leaping and prancing, his tail thumping my leg as I dart out the door. The silhouette of her black sedan comes vaguely into focus, squashing the remnants of my fear. Fear that she wouldn’t come back. That she’d have a change of heart once she left this nightmarish bubble of inevitable tragedy and realized how free and burdenless she could be out on her own.
I hear a car door clap shut, followed by footsteps kicking up rocks and pebbles.
And then her voice, hoarse and sweet and beautiful.
“Chase!”
I zigzag down the walkway, nearly tripping over divots and weed patches. Her outline inches into my periphery, my favorite shape. Then the colors register. Her hair, her hot-pink sweater, even the flush on her cheeks.
The moment she’s within reach, I grab her, folding her in my arms until she’s off her feet, legs swinging up behind her. I whirl her around in a clumsy circle. She clings to me, face buried against my neck, hair tickling my jaw. Emotion squeezes my throat as relief balloons my heart.
“You’re here,” I murmur.
She nods frantically against my shoulder. “Of course I’m here.”
When I set her back down, I keep her close, hands bracketing her hips, lips dusting over her mound of sweet-smelling hair. The scent of watermelon and flower gardens wafts around me, mingling with nature and crisp air and last night’s rain.
“Are you okay?” she breathes, holding my face in two hands. “Let me look at you.”
My eyelids flutter as the pads of her fingertips trail my jawline. “I’m okay.”
“I’m sorry I was gone so long. I had to…” Her voice trembles as she skims a thumb over my bottom lip. “Chase, I met with someone. Parvati.”
The name ripples through my chest with a pang of familiarity.
I go still, scanning through memory.
Parvati.
The gas station clerk’s daughter?
“I-I told her everything,” Annie continues, her voice gaining strength. “She remembered you, of course. I explained what was going on. The tumor, the prognosis, the vision loss…”
My jaw shifts, a frown bending.
“She’s still in her residency, but she has connections. Mentors. Surgeons who’ve worked on tumors like yours. She said it’s risky, but not impossible. Not entirely.”
I don’t realize I’ve taken a step back until I feel her hands drop from my face.
“Chase,” she says carefully.
