Profound grief changes a person. Of all the experiences in my short life it was this, that changed me the most. Losing Devin changed all of us. The light that had slowly begun to creep back into my brother’s eyes was gone. Vic’s quick laugh had disappeared. Bree’s anger had waned.
In the days that followed the accident none of us did more than exist.
I would have given anything to have Devin back. Even with his anger, manipulations, and harsh words. I couldn’t smile. I couldn’t eat. I could barely crawl from bed in the mornings that followed the crash.
Nothing was the same without him—my long-time friend and brother of my heart.
The very worst part, however, was the painful guilt that seem to gnaw away at Jordan. I imagined his self- loathing only grew each time he saw me, so I spent my time at home in my own bed instead of at his house in his. If staying away helped him cope, I would do it. Not that he would say it to me. He would never intentionally bring pain to anyone other than himself.
I’d walk away from Jordan, from everything, to have Devin back for five more minutes. I’d do anything to take the guilt from Jordan’s eyes.
To share your grief with others affected seemed commonplace when someone died. It explained the
constant flow of people in and out of Jordan’s house and ours. Hunter even came to Jordan’s, sitting on the porch with friends sharing stories about Devin.
I didn’t share much of anything with anyone. Even during the days after the accident I still hadn’t cried, hadn’t truly expressed my grief as everyone else had. I was moving along, caught in that same mental black and white nightmare of flashing images.
I was surprised to find Hunter in my kitchen, not long after he’d been at Jordan’s. “Hey, beautiful.” He stood from the table and hugged me. “How are you holding up?”
Bree had been entertaining him at the table. She stood and walked mindlessly from the room when I entered. We weren’t back to normal, she and I, but we managed to exist in the same world without fighting. For now, it was enough.
“He blames himself.” I pulled out a chair and sat rigidly. “I see it every time I look at him.” I needn’t tell Hunter who I spoke of.
“He would have never put that much power in Devin’s car.” Hunter gave his head a weary shake. “Not with Devin driving. I can see why he feels guilty. But, it’s not his fault.”
I stayed motionless, the numbness creeping in as the sun began to set. “I can tell him that, but he won’t listen. Because, like me, he probably keeps playing the wreck over and over again in his mind. Every time I close my eyes I see the car rolling, I see Jordan cradling his limp body—” I cried, for the first time since Devin died the hot tears streamed down my face. “And if I see that, then what’s he seeing?”
Hunter took a seat, his hand sliding across the table to gently squeeze mine.
“It crushes my soul to think of the pain he’s in, to know that I’m the reason for it,” I continued, looking at the place where Hunter’s hand covered mine.
“We all know what we’re signing up for.” He rocked the chair back on its hind legs as he slipped his hand off mine. Mom would have swatted him had she seen him leaning her chair back like that. The muscles corded in his thighs and he rolled his shoulders lazily. As attractive and appealing as Hunter was to most women, there’d always been someone more attractive to me.
Yet, there Hunter was, sitting across from me at the kitchen table and offering comfort. At the heart of it all, he was my friend. “We all know the risks.”
“Yeah, but that won’t change how he feels. And not only because of the wreck—”
He cut me off before I got started on my relationship with Jordan. “There’s that.” The chair thumped loudly on the floor as he sat it back down. “But neither of you can take the blame for what you feel for each other. It happens, you can’t control what you heart wants.”
“Easier said than done,” I huffed and picked at my cuticles.
“True, but…we went out when you first came home.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “You didn’t see me calling you names in front of everyone we know. Nobody forced Devin to act like he did, to take the chances he did. That’s on him and only him, not you and Jordan.”
“It’s different with you, Hunter—”
“No, It’s not. When Jordan Slater finally saw what was right in front of his face, I knew my last shot was gone. Maybe I should have tried harder, but at the end of the day? You’re where you’re supposed to be, you’d never have loved me or Devin like you love Jordan.”
“Ain’t that the damn truth.” The back door swung open as my brother came in the kitchen followed by Vic and several others. All friends, all people who cared about Devin, who had loved him in their own way. That’s where Jordan was different. Jordan and Aiden, they had several people they kept close. For everyone else, there could be respect, but not friendship. Vic and Devin were different, they made friends everywhere they went.
My kitchen filled up quickly after that. By the time Jordan’s large shoulders filled in the back door, it became apparent this wasn’t a normal visit. They were planning the funeral and for something special after, per Devin’s mother’s request.
It grew too warm, too crowded, in my kitchen. Everything became all too real.
I escaped outside and into the night.
Jordan followed me out a few seconds later. I wanted to go to him, but the look on his face stopped me. To watch someone you love hate themselves that much was agonizing, it tore away at the seams of your soul, so that little pieces leaked out.
“His mother thanked me.” His voice resonated with a haunting pain. “Thanked me for all I’d ever done for him.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I whispered. When he said nothing, I hurried on, his silence worrying me. “I watched it happen, there was nothing you could have done.”
He started off the porch and passed me down the steps, but stopped at the bottom. His face hidden in the shadows cast from the lights of my kitchen. “I didn’t have to race him.”
“Nobody forced him to race you either, Jordan.” He wasn’t listening, he was already halfway home. My heart broke for him, for all of us. I chased Jordan across the street, doubling my steps to catch up to him. “You can’t let it eat away at you.”
He snorted. “I can’t? I deserve worse.”
“No. You don’t. If you do, then so do I.” I grabbed at his arm, forcing him to slow his pace.
Jordan shook off my hand and spun on me, stopping us in the gravel in front of the garage. “Raelynn, you don’t get it.” He pulled off his hat and rubbed his head, frustration rolling off him in waves. “I could spend the rest of my life knowing he hated me as long as he was alive to feel it. But he’s not, because I killed him.”
The shock of his words slapped me in the face. I swayed on my feet from the force of his conviction. “No,” I whispered with a vehement shake of my head. “You have to know you didn’t. Bear the brunt of the guilt all day long, but don’t build that guilt with lies.”
“Lies?” He laughed without humor.
“He crossed, Jordan.” Devin’s car went over the centerline and into the other lane, clipping Jordan’s fender and causing the accident.
“He crossed because he put too much power in. Hell, he couldn’t hold it. He did all that to beat me! Ten to one that his tires had too many passes on them! I’d told him weeks ago he needed to put another weld in his restraints. I know he didn’t because he was tossed around in that car like a ragdoll. If he’d been with me? I’d have made sure he changed the slicks, and I’d have welded the fucking belts down myself.”
“But you weren’t, Jordan. That was his choice.” When I tried to touch him, he pulled away.
His dark eyes had gone from anguished to something else, something darker. “Was it?”
“What do you mean? He made the choice to work with someone else, he made the choice—” My words were rushed in my panic. Losing Devin hadn’t been the realization of my biggest fear, the thing that scared me the most was poised on Jordan’s lips. I tried to cling to hope, to still the rapid fire beat of my heart.
“He made those choices because of me, Raelynn, because I made my own choices…” He looked away from me. “Probably the wrong choices.”