The Darkest Part (31 page)

I would never do anything to hurt Tyler. Not on purpose. When he died, it was the worst moment of my life. The days that followed, I had never been so lost. Do I believe my desperation could’ve brought Tyler back to me? Did I pull him out of the light?

I’m not sure. Sometimes I think so . . . only I don’t want it to be true. I don’t want my pain to have trapped him here. But Holden is right about one thing. I don’t want Tyler lost and wandering, surrounded by darkness. I did suck up my fear to do this trip. And I’m determined to free Tyler no matter what.

Only, his words also made me realize that maybe, just maybe,
I’m
still lost. That Tyler’s darkness is not his, but mine. Holden trusts that his brother is in a good place already. How come I could never believe that? Can I now?

I told Holden the truth. I wish I did. If this was all in my head, I’d take my pills and finish the trip and love the memory of Tyler.

Holden has created doubt.

For the first time, I’m questioning what’s real and what’s not. Because one fact remains: I love Tyler. And I
want
to believe he’s not suffering.

Arms wrap around me from behind, and I startle out of my morbid thoughts. “You’re here!” Melody screeches. She plunks down in the seat next to mine and sets her beer on the table. “Where’s dickhead?”

I laugh and point toward the bar area. “Getting beers. Where’s Darla?”

Melody rolls her eyes. “She’s a fucking sex kitten, that one. She’s getting it on with Derick in the bathroom.” She sips from her beer bottle. “She’ll find us when she’s sexed up enough.”

I laugh again, and I’m already feeling my mood lighten. For tonight, for now, I try to pretend that my ghost boyfriend is someplace where he’s happy. I try to envision him in heaven, with his mother, and he’s not alone. And suddenly, I wonder why I’d never thought of that before.

Holden enters my line of sight, and all thoughts vanish. My eyes take him in as he works his way through the crowd and I smile. His black T-shirt is loose, but hugs his well-defined, leanly muscled arms perfectly. His low-slung jeans fall just right on his hips, and his hair is sexy-messy.

“Uh, huh,” Melody says near my ear. “So I see you chose to let it work itself out.” She slants a smile at me and winks her heavily lined eye.

I shrug. “For now.”

“That’s my girl.” She shamelessly stares at Holden. “Holy shit. Sex on a fucking stick. I’d down a bottle of psycho pills for him.”

I elbow her side, and she giggles. The fact that Melody giggles like a total girl makes me snort a laugh.

Holden stops before the table, eyebrows raised. Looking just like yes, sex on a fucking stick.

Tyler, forgive me. But Wichita is
my
stop. And I’m going to try and enjoy a night without you.

The all-girl punk band is just as Melody described: hardcore and kick ass.

Once they started playing and the crowd pushed in, staying seated at the table was impossible. My height has always been an issue at concerts and shows, but Holden led us up to a split section where two stairs lead to a top level. I’m now pressed against metal bars between the two levels of the club.

Melody and Darla are to my left, bouncing, their hands formed into horns and pumping the air. And Holden is behind me. I can tell he’s trying not to press into me, but as the crowd gets rowdier, it’s pointless. Finally, he grips the bar in front of me to hold his place, both arms on either side of my waist.

I’m focused on the band, but his proximity is hard to ignore. His body heat rolls over me. His cologne invades my senses. I’m dizzy from the music, atmosphere, and him.

Melody climbs to the bottom rung of the guardrail and raises her hands. Darla gets lost in the crowd as they dance and thrash. And I just let go. Fuck it. I jump up and down, raising my arms, shouting along with everyone else.

The band really is that good. They do their own songs, but a lot of covers, too. And so far, I’ve loved everything they’ve played. I’m bumping into Holden, but I don’t care. He’ll just have to deal. Then I turn toward him. “Spot me?”

His head jerks back in confusion, but I don’t give him time to ask. I climb up beside Melody and lean my thighs against the top bar. “Yeah!” she screams, clasping my hand before she goes back to cheering.

Then I feel Holden’s hands on my thighs, supporting me, and heat that’s not from the overcrowded room washes over me. The band jams through another two fast-paced songs, tearing up the stage, and then the lead singer hushes the crowd.

“We’re slowing it down with a cover from the Misfits.” Her raspy voice booms through the speakers. “This one’s for someone I’ve loved and lost. Come back, Tony.”

My heart tightens. Holden’s hands are suddenly too hot, seeping through my jeans, scalding. A wave of embarrassment crashes over me. I know what song she’s about to sing, and I don’t feel safe standing on my own two feet anymore. My legs lock at the knees.

A quick drum solo leads into a heavy guitar riff, and I swallow down the ache in my throat. I’m suddenly fourteen. Listening to the Misfits because they’re one of Holden’s favorite bands. And then I’m in tears. Hitting repeat on the song
Come Back
. Unable to understand how I lost him after only just . . .

My legs buckle, and I’m falling forward.
Crap
. Holden’s arms reach around my waist and stop me from hitting the floor face first. My back presses against his chest as he pulls me off the guardrail. I reach behind me and wrap an arm around his neck.

“Are you okay?” he shouts. He grabs my thigh and swings me around, like I’m nothing but a doll in his arms, as he turns me to face him.

“Yeah.” I close my eyes. The song pumps hard in my ears, the lyrics puncturing a hole in my heart. Or reopening one I thought was healed over.

Holden’s not putting me down, I realize. And when I open my eyes, his face is just inches from mine. His arms secure me to him, and he quickly adjusts me so that my legs are anchored around his waist. I allow my other arm to wrap around his neck. We’re locked together. Just like too many years ago under the tree.

And I’m trembling all over again. Unable to break away from his eyes. Drowning as the phantom feel of rain water submerges me in memories. The singer hits the chorus, repeating
come back,
over and over.

The look he’s giving me . . . I’m terrified. As if this song means something deeply to him. As if the words pumping through the speakers are driving right home for him. Then his lips move, just barely, but they do.

He mouths,
come back
.

A current pulls me closer to him, and like static electricity, I’m clinging. One of his hands releases my back to snake into my hair, griping at my nape. His force is pulling me to him. Only we’re motionless. Frozen. In a sea of dancing bodies time stops. And I’m falling so hard into him that I halt breathing.

Then, like being thrust suddenly and violently out of a dream, the overhead lights come on, and Melody is saying something to me. My head rings. The music still blasts my eardrums as I’m dragged out of my daze.

“Best fucking show they’ve ever done!” Melody shouts.

I blink, and Holden swallows. His hand is still in my hair. His arm still wraps my waist. He closes his eyes and sets my feet on the ground. The spell is broken.

The spray of nearly scalding water washes away the club from my skin. But the pathetic pressure from the showerhead isn’t enough to blast away the confusing and consuming thoughts from my head.

Reaching for the nozzle, I adjust the temperature even hotter, trying to scorch my body and brain clean.

Since Melody and her biker peeps are headed back on the road tonight, Mel wanted us to follow them to another bar for drinks. But after the show, I was done. I told her we’d try to catch up with them again later, and I meant it. I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.

But as I stand in the shower, just a curtain and door separating me from Holden, I wonder if I made the right call.

Yes
. I did. Alcohol would’ve been a bad idea. My head is still swimming just from breathing in Holden’s scent. Being so close to him, touching. I clamp my eyes closed. “Stop,” I whisper. Now I’m talking to myself. Great.

I just need to go to bed and put an end to this day. So much has happened, and my brain is spinning. I turn off the water and then wrap myself in a towel. Leaving my hair wet, I yank on my sleeping pants (best to cover
all
skin) and a tee. Then I stare into the mirror and nod once. Nothing sexy about me. I open the door and walk out, determined to act casual.

Holden’s spread out on top of the comforter on the king bed, watching the flat screen. “I’m done,” I say, and hate that my voice wobbles. He offered me the shower first. I accepted, needing to wash his scent off right away.

With a groan, he pushes himself up and off the bed. “Thanks.”

I dash to my bed so that as he passes, I’m nowhere near him. I’m acting like an idiot.
Real casual
. I’m sure he’s not as rattled by me. Recalling how carried away he’d gotten when we danced at the club, I decide it’s the same thing. The atmosphere at the show was intense. The Misfits are one of his favorites, and hearing a cover probably got him worked up.

I nod to myself, then roll my eyes.

The shower turns on, and I bite my lip. To take my mind further off tonight, I dig Tyler’s journal out of my pack. With everything that’s happened in the past two days, I haven’t been able to devote much time to my search. And honestly, after reading about that bar girl, I haven’t wanted to.

But no matter the conflicting emotions tormenting me, no matter what else Tyler’s journal reveals, I’m sticking to my commitment. Because I’m still committed to
him
.

I refuse to let anything happen between Holden and me. I may have come to terms with my feelings for him in the past, and my conflicting feelings for him now, but that doesn’t mean he gets a free pass. I can accept that he was going through something difficult back then. And maybe he didn’t even mean to hurt me, but that’s still an obstacle between us.

And I’m not
that
girl.

Regardless of my guilty conscience where Tyler’s concerned, I
am
a free woman. I’m free to be with someone else. I understand the logic of it, even if my heart is struggling.

Holden, though. No. I can’t let my heart hope for anything between us. I’m not the girl who gets treated like shit by the asshole just to run back into his arms to have it done all over again. I hate those girls.

Grow a pair
.

Skimming Tyler’s words, I start reading when I glimpse a section about a fight between him and Holden. My heart lurches.

A fight about me.

It was after Holden came back from boarding school. Huh. I flip back through quickly, thinking I missed a section. There’s a gap in the timeline. I shake my head and then read hurriedly. Holden doesn’t take long showers.

Oh, God. My eyes take in every word slowly. Rereading and then reading again. Tyler had suspicions about me and Holden, and followed his brother to the dead tree that day we met there. The day we kissed for the first and last time.

He saw everything. He didn’t just suspect.
He knew
. And he never said a word to me.

But he did to Holden.

I flip a couple of pages, and my chest constricts. The next time Holden met me at the tree and told me there was nothing between us, Tyler knew about that, too. And he knew the reason why.

Hearing the bathroom door squeak open, I lay the journal next to me on the chair. My eyes snap to Holden. I must be in shock, and maybe he is, too. Or maybe it’s the expression on my face. I don’t know. But . . .

He loved me
.

In Tyler’s own words, according to his own account, Holden Marks was in love with me.

And he gave me up for his brother.

He loved me
.

“Sam?” Holden’s voice is low, edgy. “What’s wrong?”

I only know one way to answer him. I’m on my feet and racing before my brain can catch up with my body. Then I’m slamming into him with full force. My arms go around his neck, pulling his face toward mine, my lips crashing into his.