I meet his gaze. “Both.”
There’s a flicker of anger that moves across his features. “Because I kissed you?”
I shake my head, the slight movement and the admission that follows taking all my strength. “Because I liked kissing you.”
His chest heaves as he lets out a breath, and I can’t believe any part of him could be relieved hearing that from me, but then he says, “Just come back tomorrow, okay? I’ll get someone to take my day shift and I’ll meet you and we’ll talk—”
I’m shaking my head to cut him off, stunned that I have to do that much. There is nothing that either one of us can say that we haven’t already said to ourselves a million times. The difference is that now we have to listen. And if he can’t, then I have to say the one thing he can’t ignore.
“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” I say. “That’s when I visit my brother.”
CHAPTER 28
I’m already awake when Mom’s whisper-soft tap sounds on my bedroom door the following morning. I hardly slept at all, and when I did doze off it felt like only minutes before my nightmares would hurl me back awake.
I’d be in the woods watching Jason and Cal fighting, and then suddenly Heath would be there, right in front of me. I’d start scrambling to get past him, to see what was happening with our brothers, or worse, I’d try to get him to look so we could stop them together, but he kept blocking me until I was pushing him, screaming at him to let me by because I could hear Cal dying...
My skin is clammy when I get out of bed, and it stays prickly and sticky even after my quick shower.
Heath didn’t say anything harsh to me after our kiss and my revelation about visiting Jason today. I wanted to remind him that there were things much bigger than the two of us, things we couldn’t let ourselves forget even though for the briefest of moments, when his lips touched mine, I had.
I’d paid for it with nightmares that I could still see whenever I closed my eyes.
When I find Mom in the kitchen, I try to smile warmly at her, guilt making me feel like I need to overcompensate. Until I take in her appearance.
She’s still in her robe.
“Mom?”
She glances at me over her shoulder just as two slices of toast pop up in the toaster. “Brooke, oh good.” She adds the toast to the tray I’m just now noticing, laden with ginger ale, saltine crackers and a big empty bowl. “Laura has been throwing up all night. I thought she might be feeling better, but she was just sick again.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say. “I can stay home with her if—if you’re okay going by yourself.” I’m trying to ignore the way my belly twists with fresh guilt over how badly I want her to say yes, to let me escape from seeing Jason just this once.
Mom is shaking her head as she picks up the tray. “Dad’s with her but she didn’t even want me to come downstairs. I can’t leave her.” She halts at the doorway and the tray shakes ever so slightly in her hands. “I can’t bear the thought of Jason going another week without seeing someone who loves him.” She lifts her gaze to mine. “Will you still go?”
She’s not looking at me; I don’t think she wants to chance seeing an expression on my face that contradicts the words we both know I have to say. “Of course I’ll still go.”
Mom’s relief is palpable. She sets the tray down again and crosses to me to press a kiss against my temple. “Tell your brother I promise I’ll be there next week. And tell him—” she cuts off at the retching sound we hear from upstairs followed by a pitifully weak call for Mom.
“I’ll tell Jason you love him,” I say, lifting the tray and handing it back to Mom. “Go.”
I’ve never been to see Jason by myself before. I talk to him on the phone for a few minutes each time he calls, but Mom is always hovering nearby, anxious to reclaim the phone, so it doesn’t ever feel private. This will be the first time I get to talk to him one-on-one—excluding the room full of other inmates, visitors and prison guards—since before he was arrested.
I’m trying not to be nervous as I go through security, but I’m so jumpy and twitchy that I’m amazed no one questions me beyond normal. But they don’t. And it feels faster than ever when Jason is led into the visitor’s room.
I stand to hug him, and for once he doesn’t act like a trained dog jumping back and checking for approval from the guards. Instead he releases me and takes his seat, his eyes wide with panic.
“Where’s Mom?”
Mom never misses visitations. We were in a car accident while driving to the prison one time. She swore she was fine and didn’t need to go to the hospital. Our car was still drivable so we kept going. It was only after visiting Jason that she admitted to feeling some pain in her left side from where the other driver T-boned us. Turned out she had a broken collarbone and a dislocated shoulder. Dad was livid when he learned about it, but Mom would have endured any amount of personal pain to see Jason. It took someone else’s to keep her away.
I slide back into my own seat across the table. “Laura was up sick all night and still this morning, and Mom didn’t think she could leave her.”
Jason’s expression alters from wide-eyed to pinched brows in concern for Laura, then back to wide-eyed again when the reality of the empty chair next to me settles in. Mom has always been the buffer when things get uncomfortable, the one who changes the subject when I tread too near topics better left alone. But she’s not here to keep things safe and neutral, and we both know it.
And after yesterday with Heath, I feel anything but safe and neutral.
There’ve been times when I didn’t want to come with Mom, but this is the first timeIfeel partially responsible for that feeling.
