Come to Me Quietly (Closer to You #1)(67)
Author: A.L. Jackson

“Yeah, well, you made that abundantly clear tonight.” Sarcasm wound its way through the words, before he blinked, and his expression filled with sympathy. “You always have, haven’t you?” It wasn’t a question, just a realization that finally latched on to his consciousness. As if disillusioned, Christopher rubbed his battered face, a choked sound forced from his throat. “Shit… I’m such an idiot.”

Remorse seemed to hit him, and he wrenched both hands through his hair and spoke toward the floor. “God, Aly, I can’t believe I hurt you like that. I really am sorry. I had no right to react like I did. I just… lost it.”

“None of us were thinking straight,” I whispered.

There was no justification for anything that had happened tonight, but I knew he’d never purposely harm me, and it hurt too much to be angry with my brother. I’d already been stripped bare, every place in me left raw. I couldn’t deal with Christopher now. I was too consumed by this unbearable void suddenly prominent in the middle of me.

He sighed and focused on me. “I know you care about him, and I care about him, too, but he’s messed up, Aly. Dangerous. It’s best that he’s gone.” He shook his head. “I heard what you said… what he said, and you deserve better than that.”

My body shook, recoiled at the words.

I’d known I shouldn’t say it, that the love I held for Jared should only be shown and never spoken. But listening to him talk about his mom was one of the hardest things I’d ever done, hearing the hatred that had poured from his mouth, feeling the blame he harbored so close. Worse was knowing how the guilt had destroyed him ever since that day. I wanted to take it away, show him he was worthy of being loved – that I loved him and I always would. I didn’t even know how to regret saying it. Even with him gone, I still needed him to know. To take that piece of me with him that I could never give to anyone else, because I would always belong to him.

“He’s really gone, isn’t he?” I whispered.

Grief gripped me by the heart.

“Yeah, Aly, he’s really gone.”

TWENTY-ONE

February 3, 2006

Aly crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her face to the cool winter sky. Evening approached. Pinks were strewn across the deepening blue, twilight casting a striking chill in the air. Aly tugged her sweatshirt a little tighter to keep herself warm. After school, she’d gone to Rebecca’s house to hang out, one of her best friends who lived in the next neighborhood over. But she was supposed be home before it got dark.

Her backpack bounced on her shoulders as she hurried. Turning right on the street where her family lived, Aly jogged across the street and up the sidewalk to the front door. She opened it, rushing in, the announcement of her arrival poised on her tongue.

Then she stumbled to a stop.

Her hand shot to the wall for support, and a chill so much different than the one she’d felt outside trickled down her spine like a rush of frigid ice. She shook and crept forward, canting her ear to the sounds coming from her mother in the living room.

She was crying.

No.

Not just crying.

Aly had only heard her mother sound like this once before – the day Aly’s grandma died.

She was weeping.

The cries slithered along the floor, crawled up the walls, pierced Aly’s ears. Fear and panic struck her heart. It pounded hard. She felt along the wall, her back pressed to it and her eyes pinched shut as if it would protect her from whatever had done this to her mother. She stopped at the archway to the living room, holding her breath as she risked peeking inside the room.

Her mom was on the floor, on her knees. Her dad kneeled over her, rubbing her back, trying to calm her. But her mother sobbed toward the floor, completely inconsolable.

“Shh, Karen… I’m right here… I’m right here.”

“Dave… ” She said his name as if maybe he could take away whatever was hurting her.

In some sort of daze, Aly wandered out into the middle of the room and stood there gaping at her mom falling apart. The ball of dread sitting like a rock in her stomach promised her something was very, very wrong.

Her dad caught sight of her. “Aly, sweetheart,” he said, his voice instantly on edge, protective, as if he wanted to shield his daughter from whatever was happening, but was unwilling to leave his wife’s side.

With a short gasp, her mom jerked her head up. “Aly, baby.” She struggled to climb to her feet, though her shoulders stayed slumped and her back bowed.

For two seconds they just stared at each other, and then Karen rushed toward Aly and took her in her arms, lapsing back into tears that she expelled in the crook of Aly’s neck. “Oh my God, my baby… my baby… ”

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Aly begged. Right then, she just needed her mom to tell her that everything was going to be okay, the way she always had done when Aly had been a little girl. In just the assurance of her words, she made everything better.

Karen edged back and took her face in her hands. Her head tilted to the side, her brown eyes so sad.

Aly knew this time whatever her mother was getting ready to say wouldn’t be bringing her any comfort. She shuffled her feet, and that rock in her stomach took it all the way to the floor.

“Baby… there was an accident… Helene… ” She trailed off, seemingly unable to complete the thought, her expression steeped in sorrow.

Aly shook her head, trying to make sense of the stream of turmoil coming from her mother’s mouth.

Karen’s lips quivered. “Helene… she’s gone. Baby, she’s gone.”

“What?” Confusion flooded through Aly’s consciousness. She was unwilling to believe the meaning of her mother’s words. “What do you mean?”

Her mom winced and grimly drew together her lips.

Aly shook her head.

No.

Helene was dead?

“Jared was driving them back from getting his license… they said he pulled out in front of a truck.”

And Aly could feel her mom’s heartbreak, could feel it quivering in her touch. But in that moment, Aly was numb with disbelief. It seemed impossible.

“Is Jared okay?” she finally managed to whisper.

Her mother shrank, her lip blanching as she bit it hard. “They don’t know if he’s going to make it.” The words bled from her mouth, slow and unsure, filled with sympathy, but sharp with grief. “He’s in bad shape, Aly. Neil just called… He’s at the hospital. Your dad and I need to go.”