The Edge of Us (Crash and Burn Book 2)

by Jamie McGuire

  “Just take care of him,” I said, watching Watts help Zeke out the door.

  chapter thirty-three

  lost

  Naomi

  W

  hile Zeke’s voicemail greeting played, I decided if I would leave a third message. His voice was deep but light-hearted like the man I knew, the one who loved me back.

  I closed my eyes tight. “Zeke, it’s me. I don’t know if you’re avoiding me because you’re pissed off or ashamed, but either way, can we just talk about it? Even if you want to tell me to fuck off. Just … don’t let me sit here wondering. It’s fucking torture. Please…? Bye.”

  I hung up, feeling the same cement in my chest I felt the previous two times I’d called, and the last four times I’d sent him a text.

  My house was clean, the yard was immaculate with not a single leaf, stick, or weed. I had grocery shopped, fixed a loose baseboard in the hall, and called home to my parents, Spenser, and Kansas. I sat on the couch alone, resting my head on one knee. There was nothing else to do, and it was only three o’clock.

  I stood, swiped the keys from the bowl that sat on the entry table, and slammed the door behind me, pissed and terrified that I had to go to him. Both Peter and Matt had pursued me relentlessly. When we fought, Peter refused to let me walk away mad. Matt crawled back asking for forgiveness, usually with a new knife or sights or something else I couldn’t say no to. I was not used to being the one trying to hold things together.

  I parked two spots over from Zeke’s truck and stomped inside, pretending not to be raging while passing the front desk clerk, waving to the dark-haired kid behind the computer. Taking two stairs at a time, I jogged down the hall to Zeke’s room, banging on the door with the side of my fist, then waited.

  Ten seconds passed.

  Thirty.

  One minute.

  I banged again. “I’m not leaving. Open the fucking door,” I said, trying to keep my voice low.

  I banged again, interrupted by Zeke yanking the door open.

  “What?” he hissed.

  His tone surprised me. I thought he’d feel calmer once the alcohol left his system.

  “I…”

  Zeke leaned back a bit, crossed his arms, and waited.

  “Can I come in?” I asked.

  He thought about it for a moment then stepped aside.

  I passed him, noticing how messy the room was. That was uncharacteristic for Zeke. He was typically tidy. I began picking up the dirty clothes on the floor.

  “Don’t do that,” he said with a sigh.

  “What is this?” I said, flinging around the wrinkled T-shirts in my hand. “What is going on with you? This isn’t you.”

  “It’s the new me,” he said, sitting in the chair.

  I sat on the bed across from him, glaring at him for a moment before blurting out my question. “Does the new you love me?”

  He frowned. “Naomi…”

  “Do you love me?” I asked again, emphasizing each word.

  “No.”

  The word stung worse than any bullet that had passed through my flesh, but I refused to give up.

  “You don’t love me,” I repeated, unconvinced.

  His jaw ticked under his skin. “This isn’t going to work, Naomi.”

  “Why not?”

  He looked away.

  “You owe me an answer,” I said.

  “I barely deserved you before,” he grumbled.

  “Bullshit,” I said, feeling tears sting my eyes. “Why don’t you tell the truth?”

  “What truth?”

  “That you love me, but you’re scared. You’re running away from me before I can walk away from you.”

  “You shouldn’t have to take care of me the rest of your life,” he said, sounding broken.

  “Nope. No, I don’t. But that’s what you do when you love each other. You take care of each other, Zeke. I don’t… I don’t even know why I’m here if you don’t want me.” I wiped my wet nose. “But what we’re going through—what you’re going through—is a lot, and we make the worst decisions when we’re afraid. So I’m choosing to believe you’re just saying all of this because you’re hurting. I’m choosing to fight for us. If you don’t love me, that’s one thing. But I don’t believe that. Not for a second.”

  His eyes glossed over, and he bowed his head, propping his elbows on his knees and his head with his hands. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. He looked up. “I’m sorry for everything I said last night. I know Peter is a class-A prick. I know he’s been chasing you since you were kids. I know you didn’t ask for any of this, but I ain’t got a fucking job, Naomi. I can’t drink, defend your honor, pull an all-nighter, or overexert myself. I’m an old man. You deserve more.”

  “That’s bullshit,” I seethed, standing. “You don’t have to do this. You’re choosing this, armed with a lot of bullshit excuses.”

  “It’s not,” he said, pausing to lower his voice. “I’m all out of options, Naomi. I can’t… We gotta cut our losses. I don’t want to say it, but one of us has to.”

  “To say what?”

  He walked over to the door, holding it open, looking like he was about to throw up. “It’s over.”

  I walked into the hall, hearing the door close behind me.

  I pounded on the door once. “If you love me, you’re a coward! And if you don’t, you’re a liar!”

  When he didn’t open it, I hurried down the stairs, stopped in the lobby by Darby.

  “Naomi,” she said, unsure. “What are you doing here?”

  I looked past her, trying to think of something polite to say to get me away quickly, but then I had an idea. “I came to see Zeke.”

  “You did? How, um… That’s really great.” Darby said the words with conviction. She meant them, but she was surprised. “It’s real quiet without the boys here.”

  “Hey, Darby,” a woman said as she passed. She was wearing coveralls, peeled down, the sleeves tied around her waist, her once-white tank top covered in grease and dirt.

  “Oh, hey!” Darby said, her pageant smile switching on. “Naomi, this is Reese. She’s the head mechanic on the Forestry helicopters.”

  “We’ve met,” Reese said, flashing a bright smile, dimples sinking in both cheeks.

  “Hi again,” I said, shaking her hand a few times. She had a firm grip, I’d give her that, and I respected any woman breaking into a male dominant field. “You’re staying here?” The question was innocent at first, but then I said it aloud and wondered if this stunning, long-legged brunette was the reason Zeke was so quick to dismiss me.

  “I am. Just checked in yesterday. A fire broke out in Cali, so we’re going up there soon. They’re sending Helitac out first so we can get the boys airborne.”

  “How long will you be gone you think?” Darby asked.

  Reese’s mouth pulled to the side. “It’s been burning for two weeks, and it just keeps growing. No telling.”

  “Is Ellie with them?” Darby asked.

  “I’m not around her much, but yeah. Last time I saw them trekking up, she was with them.”

  “Stay safe,” Darby said.

  Reese waved to us, typing on her cell phone as she walked to the elevator bay.

  “Has Zeke said anything about the Alpines?” I asked. I glanced at Reese. “Has he been talking to her?”

  Darby looked over her smile and tried to suppress a giggle. “I don’t think he even notices. All he can think about is you, his career, his health, and you … oh, and you,” she said, giggling.

  I looked up. “Doesn’t seem like he’s thinking about me at all.”

  She sobered. “He doesn’t want to drag you through all this, especially since you’ve been through so much already.”

  “Well, I get to decide that, he doesn’t.”

  She stared down at the floor. “He’s not himself. He’s been awfully down in the dumps. He doesn’t know anything but fightin
’ fires. They have to let him back in.”

  “I don’t think it’s going to happen, Darby.”

  “Well, I believe in miracles. I’ll keep praying for healing, and that everything can go back to the way it was, including you two.”

  “Thank you, but,” I began, raking my hair back with my fingers. “I hate to ask you this, Darby, but I’m sure you can relate. Could you talk to him again? He won’t listen to me. He needs treatment.”

  “He loves you,” she said in her sweet Southern drawl. “It’s the situation he hates. He feels like he’s screwing everything up, and that man… God bless you, Naomi, he’s a runner. Since that old girlfriend of his broke his heart, I don’t think it works right. The second he thinks you might leave him…”

  “He bails.”

  She nodded, seeming apologetic. “Zeke is a good man. He’ll come around. I know he wants to fight for you, he just doesn’t know how.”

  “He doesn’t have to fight for me. I’m already his.”

  Darby’s bottom lip jutted out, and she brought me into a hug, squeezing me tight. “It’s going to work out.”

  When she released me, I fled the lobby before tears tumbled over my lashes onto my cheeks. I sat in the FJ, grabbing the steering wheel tight and bowing my head while my shoulders shook with grief. It doesn’t matter how someone you love leaves. Loss is loss.

  I didn’t drive home, instead cruising the streets of Colorado Springs for two hours before deciding to take the highway north toward Denver. My mind jumped from sad to angry, from sympathetic to spiteful. I knew why Zeke was pushing me away. I was an independent, strong woman, and it had always been an issue meeting someone secure in himself enough to pursue any kind of relationship. Zeke didn’t want to feel weak next to me. He didn’t want to get sick and die and put me through another funeral. For those reasons, it was hard to stay mad at him, but I was damn sure going to try.

  chapter thirty-four

  clean

  Zeke

  T

  he white walls of my hotel room were the only things I could stand to keep me company. The cheap painting of the mountains—none that I’d seen in Colorado so far—didn’t judge me, and no one on the television sent me thoughts and prayers. The Maddoxes were with their girlfriends, most of my friends were either at their Southern homes or with family, and I was in my shithole hotel drinking Ensure and feeling like a waste.

  Brad and Jenn were calling twice a day, but the longer I went without speaking to Naomi, the less I wanted to talk to anyone. So I sat. I sat in my green chair next to a dozen or so bottles of prescriptions, and I stared at the wall. Anger helped, but I missed her more than I thought possible. My heart hurt in ways that was worse than death, and some days I wished for it. Still, knowing she was waiting for me to call, I sat here in misery and felt sorry for myself.

  A knock on the door forced me to move for the first time since I’d rolled out of bed. I trudged across the room and peeked through the peephole.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  Reese leaned closer, her eye misshapen in the glass. “Open the door, Zeke.”

  “No.”

  She crossed her arms, a white plastic sack hanging from one wrist. “Watts called me. I drove all the way over here, and I’m not leaving. Open the damn door.”

  I narrowed my eye then sighed, yanking it open.

  Reese covered her nose and mouth. “Oh my … oh my God,” she said in a muffled Long Island accent. “What are you doing in here? Collecting shit and mold?”

  “Waiting to die,” I said, setting my Ensure on the table.

  She walked in and looked around for two seconds before collecting empty pizza boxes and other trash.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, annoyed.

  “Making it tolerable. No wonder you’re depressed. You’re lucky I owed you a favor. Fucking gross.”

  “You owe me a favor? I think it’s the opposite. You hooked me up with your sister’s kitchen, remember?”

  “We can talk about it later.” She handed me the sack. “Clean clothes. Take a shower. I’ll clean up.”

  I stared at her, holding the sack in my hands, confused and unmoving.

  She stomped into the bathroom, turned on the shower, then came out, pointing behind her. “Shower! Now!”

  “Fine! Christ, Reese. I got a heart condition, you know.”

  “Don’t wanna hear it! Heart patients can brush their teeth and wash their asses. Get to it.”

  I shut the bathroom door behind me, set the sack on the counter and undressed, trying to think of the last time I’d worn clean clothes. I stood under the hot water. Reese was right, I was already feeling more human. A human without the love of my life, but a human anyway. Week-old grime dripped to the tub and circled the drain.

  It wasn’t easy knowing I was just being stubborn and also feeling like I was doing us both a favor. Naomi didn’t want to kiss Peter. I should’ve beat the shit out of him, but she’d lose her job, and I’d probably end up in the ER. It was fucked. I was fucked. I needed her and had to stay away from her. Fucked.

  Brad had told me once if I talked too much sense I’d lose my mind. He’d always known that I could get too far into my head, trying to compartmentalize and explain emotions so I could get a handle on them—mine or someone else’s.

  That tendency was a big problem for me, because love in any capacity didn’t make sense. The beginning was perfect, the end was agony, and the middle was filled with expectations and disappointment that eventually paved the pathway to falling out of love. We could fall in love with someone, too much of something or not enough. Someone wrong for us or too much like us to get along. It was too delicate a balance, but love didn’t care. We fell without reason and basked in the light of it, only to become blind to why we fell in the first place.

  The flaw in it all was love made us insane, and returning to reason was inevitably the beginning of the end. Love had to be senseless to survive.

  I twisted the knob and stepped out, wrapping the towel around my waist. My reflection was blurred in the steam-covered mirror. I wiped the fog away with my palm, leaving a rainbow-shaped smear that allowed a less blurry version of me gazing back.

  “You’re fucked,” I said.

  “No you’re not,” Reese called from the room.

  I brushed my teeth, pulled on the boxers, T-shirt, hoodie, jeans and socks Reese had brought, snapping off the tags and peeling off the stickers.

  I opened up the door and stepped out, in awe of what Reese had done in the time I was in the bathroom.

  “Wow,” I said.

  “It doesn’t smell like a morgue anymore.” She sat, letting her wrists hang off the ends of the armrests.

  “Thank you,” I said, rubbing my neck. Now that I didn’t feel like a piece of furniture, I was embarrassed about the state of my room. “Why did you owe me again?”

  “Fish,” she said simply. “He told me you made the call not to leave him behind.”

  “It was Naomi who…” I trailed off, just her name causing a sick feeling in my stomach. I sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Fish is my cousin, you know. His dad’s little sister is my mom.”

  “Fish is your cousin? Why didn’t I know this? You’ve been Bobby’s mechanic for two years.”

  “Fish helped get me this job, and he made me promise not to make it obvious that we’re related.”

  “That makes sense. He’s good with the buggy when it breaks down. Is that where you learned about engines?”

  She made a face. “I learned from the same place Fish did. My mom.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “That’s cool.”

  “I’ve been pretty good about keeping it a secret. But when he … when I heard over the radio the Alpines were in trouble, I holed up in the hangar so I could listen on the radio. It was torture, sitting on the concrete alone, waiting to hear if any of you were alive; if my cousin was gone, if Bobby was gone.
It was quiet for the half hour before they found you. When I heard Fish was hurt, I made Bobby call in a favor.”

  “Good ole’ Bobby,” I said.

  “He flew after dark looking for you guys. He had more than one close call.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  Reese stood. “Anyway, your room smells better and so do you.” She sobered. “I know you lost a lot when you were diagnosed, Zeke. But a lot of people, including your girlfriend, put a lot on the line to save your life that day. On a lot of days. So don’t waste it.”

  She walked out, letting the door close hard behind her.

  I sat alone, letting her words simmer. I stared at my phone, deciding in the moment to call Naomi and beg her forgiveness. Her number was at the top of my missed calls, and my thumb hovered over her name, wondering if I’d get the reaction I hoped for or the one I deserved.

  Before I pressed the button, someone knocked on the door. I opened it, expecting to see Reese. Instead, I glowered down at Peter, who stood before me, adjusting his tie.

  “Hello, Zeke.”

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “Well, Naomi didn’t send me, if that’s what you were hoping for.”

  My shoulders sagged. “Get out of here.”

  I turned, letting the door close, but Peter caught it and followed me in.

  I sat in the chair, glad that Reese had cleaned up and made me shower. Peter was the last person I’d want to see me in such a shit state.

  “May I sit?” Peter asked.

  “No,” I said simply.

  Peter stopped mid-way to the corner of the bed and stood again, nervously shifting his weight.

  “You’ll change your mind once you hear what I have to say,” Peter said.

  “Doubt that.”

  “She loves you,” Peter said. He held up his hands and let them fall to his thighs. “I can’t deny that anymore. And I can’t deny that I love her. So … I want to help. A compromise.”

  I eyed him, already suspicious.

  “You know who I am, Zeke, but you’re unaware of how far my reach is or what I can do. I am the deciding vote for the Cheyenne Mountain Complex.”