The Darkest Part (29 page)

Sam

Holden is really trying to be cool. Like me driving his truck isn’t about to make him rip his hair out. He’s run his hand through his dark layers about fifty times since I got on the highway. And he’s never worked that lip ring so hard.

A triumphant smile spreads across my face as I press back into the seat. I’m still a bit nervous, but after the first ten minutes of minor panic attacks (it
felt
like more than one), the fight or flight adrenaline coursing through my veins finally stopped pumping. Now I’m on a high.

I used to love driving. Whenever I’d have a bad day—after I botched a test or had a fight with Tyler, or just needed to think—I’d hop into my car and just drive. Blast the stereo and get lost.

Sure, there weren’t a lot of places to drive around the island, but it was the action. The going. Being away from the world in my own place where no one could bother me.

That is, until Tyler’s hit-and-run. Dr. Hartman tried to analyze it, saying my fear was normal. A car had taken Tyler away from me, and of course I’d be fearful of cars now. It was logical and rational, and what’s more, expected.

Earlier, the idea had just hit me.

As much as I’m doing this trip for Tyler, truth is, I’m doing it for me, too. I’m tired of being scared. Sick of living in fear. I’m doing this to set Tyler free, yes, to help him to cross over—but deep down, I know it’s about more.

I need to cross over, too.

Into the living.

I hate thinking that Dr. Hartman might have had a tiny point during our last session. When she said I needed to learn to live my own life away from Tyler. In a way, I get what she was saying. I’ve always thought of Tyler and me as
one
. He was always by my side. We did everything together.

Except for the time when I was with Holden. That was the only moment I thought of myself. Wanted something all
for
myself, despite Tyler.

The irony that I’m again with Holden isn’t lost on me. And I could spend thousands of dollars in Dr. Hartman’s office, sitting in her little blue chair, trying to figure out what it all means.

Or, I could go with it.

Melody’s advice swirls in my head, making me brave. Hold on to me and Tyler, or let things work themselves out.
What does my heart want?
Glancing over at Holden as he tries hard to look like he’s searching for music instead of dreading my driving, I decide . . . not to worry about it. To enjoy the trip.

One thing my heart wants: carefree.

And then a terrifying thought attacks my brain. “Oh, my God.”

“What?” Holden looks up, searching the highway and then me. “What’s wrong?”

“We forgot to spread Tyler’s ashes.”

He releases an audible breath. “Shit, Sam. I thought you were about to plow into something.” He runs his hand through his hair again. “It’s all right. We’ll just veer off course on our way back and hit Springfield again.” He smiles, and my heart slows to a less erratic beat.

I breathe in, breathe out. “Wait,” I say, glancing at the sign as we pass. “What route would we have taken to go to Outdoor World?”

Holden pulls out his phone and punches something on the screen. “Sixty-five. Same as we took in. Why?” His eyebrows scrunch together, but I think he already knows what I’m about to do.

I take the next exit and, finding the sign for my turn almost too late, swing onto the ramp leading us back toward Springfield. Holden curses as I take the curve hard. “Fuck. If you weren’t handling her so well, I think I would’ve just shat myself.”

I laugh. After I get back onto sixty-five, I look over. His expression is strange. I’ve never seen that look in his eyes before. But suddenly, as a memory is triggered, I remember a time when I did. At the dead tree. His gaze flicked over me in something that could only be described as awe.

And he has that same look now.

“I told you I could drive a stick.” I puff out my chest in mock cockiness. I expect him to laugh, for my joke to lighten the intensity shadowing his face. It doesn’t.

My stomach flutters, and I grip the wheel tighter. He finally averts his gaze, and the cab loses some of its tension.

“I didn’t doubt that you could.”

I smirk. “Liar.”

He chuckles. And that fluttering returns. I won’t deny that I’m attracted to him—am
still
attracted to him. That would be lying to myself, and I’m sick of that, too. Like I was trying to explain to Tyler at the hotel pool, I had loved Holden at one time. It wasn’t in the same way that I loved
him
. But Holden had been my first crush. My first love. And my first real heartbreak.

I’d tried to convince myself that I was too young to know what real love was back then. And, maybe I was. But I never felt for Tyler what I’d felt for Holden. That intense, raw, all-consuming emotion. And I assumed it was because it wasn’t actually love. Just desire, or lust, or hormones, maybe.

Tyler was my forever. We would have had an amazing life together. Despite his slip with that bar girl, we would’ve worked through it. And he would’ve been a wonderful husband, and an even better father.

But that forever . . . that possible future . . . is gone. I’ve always had a plan. Because of Tyler. He was that type. Everything mapped out. Just like his road trip. And I was a part of his plan. I wanted to be, and I would’ve been content living out that plan.

Content.

It echoes in my head. That word should feel more . . . .satisfying. Happy. But that’s not the definition of contentment. I’d never asked myself before if being content would be enough. I never had to. And what I was trying to get across to Tyler was: I have to
now
.

More than he needs to let me go, I need to let
him
go. In order to move on and find something more than contentment. I’m not ashamed that I loved Holden anymore. Those feelings, regardless of whether they were misguided or wrong, were real.

I just don’t know what to do about it. And I can’t fully explore anything until I’ve completed my journey with Tyler.

“You’re going to miss the exit,” Holden says, pulling me out of my deep thoughts.

“Oh.” I turn on the blinker and merge into the next lane. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

His voice is light and carefree. I smile.

As I head down the road, I take in the massive building that stretches the entire parking lot before us. “That can’t all be a Bass Pro Shop. All of it?”

“Looks like it,” he says under his breath and then groans. “Are we going in?”

“Um . . .” I spot a place next to one of the many ponds lining the road. I’m sure Holden will have a mild stroke when I do this, but I say, “No. Right here’s fine.” And I pull into the high grass. The jarring
whap
of grass blades pelting the sides of the truck and undercarriage makes me cringe, and I peek over at him. “This is okay, right?”

He presses his lips together, restraining a frown or a smile, I’m not sure which. Then he looks at me with a forced calm expression. “I’m not that anal.” He cocks his head. “All right. I am, but it’s fine.”

Parking in first and pulling the e-brake, I shut off the engine and just sit for a minute. Driving is a huge thing for me, and now I have to get my mind straight to release more of Tyler’s ashes.

Holden seems to realize that I need a minute and hops out of the truck. I watch as he sinks his hands into his pockets and walks toward the pond. My gaze sweeps over his broad shoulders, the tattoos on his arm. An unbidden memory of his eyes, intense and wanting, enters my mind.

Not the best timing. I’m trying to focus on Tyler, but it’s getting complicated. With a deep inhale, I open the door and get out. Reaching behind the seat, I grab my pack, then walk toward the edge of the pond where Holden is standing. I soak up the bright sun, let it warm some of the hesitant chill sweeping my skin.

“You really have no idea why your brother was so fascinated with seeing Outdoor World?” I keep my sight on the dark, lily pad-covered pond top.

Holden shakes his head. “Not a clue.”

I reach into my pack and bring out the picture box, my stomach already knotting. I thought the more we did this, the easier it would get. But my nerves are extra shaky now, especially after how upset Tyler got back at the pool.

“Can I have this stop?” Holden asks. Shielding my eyes from the sun, I glance up at him. I open my mouth to ask why, but he continues. “I need a moment with my brother.”

The serious look in his eyes tells me this is a no-nonsense moment for him. I swallow hard and, with my resolve locked in place, hand him the box. “I’ll be in the truck.” I try for a smile, but it feels strained.

As I walk back, I take one last look over my shoulder, regret flooding me. But I can’t deny Holden this time with his brother. For whatever reason, he needs this.

After I’m in the truck, I crank the engine and let it idle to drown out his words, just in case he feels the need to speak them aloud. I turn up the volume to give them further privacy, then watch as Holden looks down at the box in his hands. I can’t see if he’s talking or not, but I note the tension in his back and shoulders. I have to look away.

A while later, I jerk upright when I hear the truck door open. I’d shut my eyes just for a minute, and nearly fell asleep. “Ready?”

He nods, long and hard, before he pushes the box under the seat. “Yeah. I think we’re good.” He looks at me, and a slow smile slides across his face. It’s not guarded. Whatever he needed to get off his chest, it’s out there, and I can feel the relief rolling off him.

A full, unguarded smile to match his tugs at my lips. “All right. Then off to Wichita it is.”

As I drop the brake and shift into first, he says, “Why Wichita?”

I almost laugh, remembering when I’d asked that very question of Tyler. “It’s my stop.” From out the corner of my eye, I see his brows pull together. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have any Eagles in your case, would you?” I ask, changing the subject before he can ask.

He balks. “Of course.” He tugs out the leather CD case and unzips the side. “Any requests?”

I pull out onto the road. “Yeah.
Witchy Woman
.”

Holden

Sam turns into the Holiday Inn near downtown Wichita at 11:45 pm. I didn’t think we’d make it here in under the projected MapQuest travel time, but she pulled it off. She drove the whole way, and even kept the speedometer at around seven miles above the speed limit on the highway.

No panic attacks.

I can tell she’s exhausted now¸ though. Hell, I’m exhausted, and I wasn’t the one driving. For her first time back in the driver’s seat, a four hour stretch from one unfamiliar city to the next is extreme. It’s even more impressive since we’ve already been on the road for days. She’s completely out of her element.

And I was right. Watching her drive my truck was a huge turn on. It didn’t help that she’s still in her jean skirt. I could’ve reminded her about her promise—but I think I’m accepting my fate as a masochist. Thoughts of sliding over to her and running my hand up that skirt, tasting her while she was driving . . . Fucking torture. I had to mentally douse myself with cold water a few times.

With an inward groan, I mentally flog myself for thinking of it again.

Outdoor World was enough to get my head on straight, at least for a while. It’s sad that I had to wait until after my brother’s gone to tell him what I’d been bottling up for years. But, it had to be done. I didn’t lie to Sam. I did promise Tyler that I’d look out for her. We promised that to each other. And I wanted to clarify that agreement.

I may have zero chance with Sam. But if she ever does give me a shot, I won’t back out this time. Not for anyone. Not even his ghost. I know I don’t deserve her, but I’ll try. I’ll try damn hard. I wanted him to know that.

After we drag ass up to the check-in counter, I’m seriously ready to crash. That hour rest wasn’t near enough. With all that’s happened, today seems longer than a day. More like a week. Or a year.

With few words, I get our room, and then we’re in an elevator and on our way up to the fifth floor. Glancing at Sam a couple of times, I take in her proud expression. I envision picking her up and pressing her to the elevator wall and kissing her senseless.
I’m
that proud of her.

I shake the image from my head.

“Are you all right?” she asks.

The elevator
dings
and the doors open. I let her walk through first. “Yeah. Just tired.”

She accepts my answer with a nod as we head down the hallway in search of our room. And I realize this is,
hopefully
, the first time on the trip I’ll actually sleep all night in a bed. I laugh out loud. I might be delirious.

Sam pauses before the door, the key card hovering over the metal reader, her eyebrows raised in question.

“Nothing,” I say, having a hard time wiping the smile from my face. “I’m just overjoyed to have a bed.”

Realization dawns, and her eyes go wide. “Oh, shit. You haven’t really slept much, have you?”

I shrug it off. “I don’t need a lot of sleep. But hell, I’ve never looked so forward to sleeping in a hotel bed before.”