“We’re almost home, little man. You can wait,” I tell him as I near the interstate exit I need to take.
“No,” he wails, because he’s overtired. “I need it now.”
Kate unsnaps her seat belt and starts to scramble out of her seat to reach behind me. “I’ll get it.”
Icy fear floods my veins and panic wells up inside of me as she lifts herself from the seat. My hands grip the steering wheel hard and my eyes dart all around me to check out our surroundings.
“Sit the fuck down,” I roar at her. “And get your fucking seat belt on.”
Kate heeds me well, my outburst, I’m sure, scaring the shit out of her. Her ass slams back down into the seat and she clicks the seat belt quickly into place. Ben starts crying in the backseat—I know I scared him when I yelled, because that’s just something I don’t do.
I want to console him, but I can’t. My breath seems clogged in my lungs and my heart is racing away. I carefully take the exit as sweat pops out all over me, and I have to restrain the urge to punch the windshield with my fist.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Memories of that night assault me all at once—the ones I’ve been keeping at bay for four months. Gina taking her seat belt off, giving me a soft smile. My hand cupping around the back of her head to pull her closer to me, while I kept the other hand on the steering wheel and both eyes on the road.
Bright lights flooding the interior of the car as someone veers into my lane of travel, a hard jerk of the steering wheel to the right, metal screeching. Then the car is rolling, rolling, rolling. I’m held in place, but Gina’s body is tumbling like clothes in a dryer, her body flopping like a rag doll. A spray of glass and then she’s gone. Just vanished from my sight.
“Zack…are you okay? Zack?” I hear vaguely. A hand is pressed to my shoulder, squeezing hard.
I blink and see that I’ve pulled over onto the side of the road on the exit ramp and have no recollection of doing that. The SUV is in park and both of my hands are locked tight on the steering wheel so hard, my right wrist starts to ache. I turn slowly and look at Kate, whose eyes are round with concern.
“Are you okay?” she asks again, and her hand squeezes my shoulder, gently this time. Ben is crying in the backseat, but she’s ignoring him for now, her focus solely on me.
I jerk away from her touch and close my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I unclench my grip from the wheel and scrub my hands through my hair.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I tell her as I blow out the pent-up breath. Turning to look at her, I pin her with a warning look. “Don’t ever take your seat belt off again in the car, do you understand?”
She nods quickly. “I won’t. I’m sorry.”
I can see it in her eyes.
She knows.
She knows I was on the verge of really losing it there, and I’m pretty sure that’s fear I see on her face.
Chapter 8
Kate
I gaze out the wall of windows that look over the wooded backyard of Zack’s house as I rinse out my coffee cup to put it in the dishwasher. Ben is sitting in the breakfast nook, happily eating his oatmeal with fruit that I made him for breakfast, and flipping through a book while he eats. It’s the first week of March and, typical for North Carolina, the huge weeping cherry tree outside that sits next to Zack’s back deck is already budding. The weather forecast said it would be in the mid-sixties today, and I’m ready for winter to be over. It doesn’t get abnormally cold here in the winter, but we do get a few light snows each year. Just enough to really mess up the roads and freak all the good southerners out.
Footsteps start down the back staircase and I involuntarily tense up as I wait for Zack to make his morning appearance. Things have been tense between us since the game he took me to last week. Well, correction…since I took my seat belt off in the car and he had a nuclear meltdown. I have no clue what the circumstances had been of the accident that had cost Gina her life, but it does not take a rocket scientist to figure out that she hadn’t had her seat belt on, based on his reaction that night.
I felt terrible for what I’d done and the haunted look in his eyes. My thoughtless actions had brought about an awful memory for him, and even though I’d apologized profusely the rest of the way home and he’d assured me it was okay, he’s kept quite the distance from me since then.
Zack was gone this past weekend for a game in Nashville but returned late Sunday night. He called a few times a day to check in and talk to Ben while he was away, but he carefully avoided conversation with me. When he got back from practice yesterday, he casually told me to take the rest of the day off, as he wanted to spend alone time with Ben. Normally, he never minded me hanging around when he was home, but his message was clear. He wanted me out of his sight, so I stayed holed up in my room the rest of the night.
“Hey, buddy,” Zack says as he walks over to the kitchen table and sits down next to Ben. His hand comes up, reaches around the side of Ben’s head, and pulls him over so he can kiss his blond curls. “Good oatmeal?”
Ben nods and sticks another spoonful in his mouth.
“Want some?” I ask Zack hesitantly. “I made plenty.”
He doesn’t even look over at me, but says, “Sure. Thanks.”
I pour a cup of coffee for him, knowing that he always drinks one cup black in the morning. I make him a bowl of oatmeal; scoop the cut grapes, apples, and walnuts on top; and bring it over to him.
“No,” he wails, because he’s overtired. “I need it now.”
Kate unsnaps her seat belt and starts to scramble out of her seat to reach behind me. “I’ll get it.”
Icy fear floods my veins and panic wells up inside of me as she lifts herself from the seat. My hands grip the steering wheel hard and my eyes dart all around me to check out our surroundings.
“Sit the fuck down,” I roar at her. “And get your fucking seat belt on.”
Kate heeds me well, my outburst, I’m sure, scaring the shit out of her. Her ass slams back down into the seat and she clicks the seat belt quickly into place. Ben starts crying in the backseat—I know I scared him when I yelled, because that’s just something I don’t do.
I want to console him, but I can’t. My breath seems clogged in my lungs and my heart is racing away. I carefully take the exit as sweat pops out all over me, and I have to restrain the urge to punch the windshield with my fist.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Memories of that night assault me all at once—the ones I’ve been keeping at bay for four months. Gina taking her seat belt off, giving me a soft smile. My hand cupping around the back of her head to pull her closer to me, while I kept the other hand on the steering wheel and both eyes on the road.
Bright lights flooding the interior of the car as someone veers into my lane of travel, a hard jerk of the steering wheel to the right, metal screeching. Then the car is rolling, rolling, rolling. I’m held in place, but Gina’s body is tumbling like clothes in a dryer, her body flopping like a rag doll. A spray of glass and then she’s gone. Just vanished from my sight.
“Zack…are you okay? Zack?” I hear vaguely. A hand is pressed to my shoulder, squeezing hard.
I blink and see that I’ve pulled over onto the side of the road on the exit ramp and have no recollection of doing that. The SUV is in park and both of my hands are locked tight on the steering wheel so hard, my right wrist starts to ache. I turn slowly and look at Kate, whose eyes are round with concern.
“Are you okay?” she asks again, and her hand squeezes my shoulder, gently this time. Ben is crying in the backseat, but she’s ignoring him for now, her focus solely on me.
I jerk away from her touch and close my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I unclench my grip from the wheel and scrub my hands through my hair.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I tell her as I blow out the pent-up breath. Turning to look at her, I pin her with a warning look. “Don’t ever take your seat belt off again in the car, do you understand?”
She nods quickly. “I won’t. I’m sorry.”
I can see it in her eyes.
She knows.
She knows I was on the verge of really losing it there, and I’m pretty sure that’s fear I see on her face.
Chapter 8
Kate
I gaze out the wall of windows that look over the wooded backyard of Zack’s house as I rinse out my coffee cup to put it in the dishwasher. Ben is sitting in the breakfast nook, happily eating his oatmeal with fruit that I made him for breakfast, and flipping through a book while he eats. It’s the first week of March and, typical for North Carolina, the huge weeping cherry tree outside that sits next to Zack’s back deck is already budding. The weather forecast said it would be in the mid-sixties today, and I’m ready for winter to be over. It doesn’t get abnormally cold here in the winter, but we do get a few light snows each year. Just enough to really mess up the roads and freak all the good southerners out.
Footsteps start down the back staircase and I involuntarily tense up as I wait for Zack to make his morning appearance. Things have been tense between us since the game he took me to last week. Well, correction…since I took my seat belt off in the car and he had a nuclear meltdown. I have no clue what the circumstances had been of the accident that had cost Gina her life, but it does not take a rocket scientist to figure out that she hadn’t had her seat belt on, based on his reaction that night.
I felt terrible for what I’d done and the haunted look in his eyes. My thoughtless actions had brought about an awful memory for him, and even though I’d apologized profusely the rest of the way home and he’d assured me it was okay, he’s kept quite the distance from me since then.
Zack was gone this past weekend for a game in Nashville but returned late Sunday night. He called a few times a day to check in and talk to Ben while he was away, but he carefully avoided conversation with me. When he got back from practice yesterday, he casually told me to take the rest of the day off, as he wanted to spend alone time with Ben. Normally, he never minded me hanging around when he was home, but his message was clear. He wanted me out of his sight, so I stayed holed up in my room the rest of the night.
“Hey, buddy,” Zack says as he walks over to the kitchen table and sits down next to Ben. His hand comes up, reaches around the side of Ben’s head, and pulls him over so he can kiss his blond curls. “Good oatmeal?”
Ben nods and sticks another spoonful in his mouth.
“Want some?” I ask Zack hesitantly. “I made plenty.”
He doesn’t even look over at me, but says, “Sure. Thanks.”
I pour a cup of coffee for him, knowing that he always drinks one cup black in the morning. I make him a bowl of oatmeal; scoop the cut grapes, apples, and walnuts on top; and bring it over to him.
