by Mark Stone
“Come in,” Nate said, his voice cracking as he spoke. Pushing my way into the room, I looked at my former best friend. It had been a few weeks since everything had happened and about ten days since Nate had been released from the hospital. Though he was moving around okay, I could still tell that he had been through a lot. I guess getting shot in the gut will do that to you.
“Oh, hey,” my friend said, clutching the shirt he was holding nervously in both hands. His eyes were wide, if a bit sunken into his cheeks. His hair was a mess on his head, and his suitcase was sitting on top of his bed.
“You headed somewhere?” I asked, closing the door behind us.
“Kind of,” he said. “But I’m mostly just getting my stuff together. I–I . . . have something I have to do.”
“I guess that happens,” I said, and though he hadn’t really told me, I knew what he was talking about. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Yeah,” he muttered. “It was a rough go for a minute, but I think I’m through the worst of it. Which is a good thing because I’m starting to think my sister is getting sick of me.”
“I doubt that,” I replied. “Jules is an angel.”
“She’s not a literal angel, though, and that’s thanks to you,” Nate said. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this from me, but thanks, man. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
“You don’t have to thank me for any of that,” I said. “And I know we’ve had our differences, but I’m sorry that you were hurt.”
Nate took a deep breath, dropping the shirt from his hands and shaking his head. “Listen, there’s something I need to tell you. I should have told you this years ago, but I was afraid.”
“Nate, I—”
“No, I have to say this right now. Otherwise, I might lose my nerve. And if I ever—”
“I know, Nate,” I said, lifting my hand to shut him up. “It was you who ran me over that night, not Cameron. It was you who was driving the car.”
He nodded solemnly. “How did you know?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “I talked to Cameron about it, and the thing is that after getting to know him again, I believed him when he told me he didn’t do it.” I cleared my throat, pushing images of that night out of my head for the very last time ever. I would never come back to this memory after today. This was what it would take to move past it, and I was doing that. “Then, with Abby and her brother, I had been so wrong. I thought he was the monster, but it turned out that I was looking at it all wrong. It was backward. After that, the rest of it just fell into place. I had always wondered why you said he was with you. I couldn’t understand why you would be covering for that man. It never occurred to me that he was covering for you.”
“I didn’t even see you there,” Nate said. “I had only drunk two beers. I wasn’t even drunk, but I had already been pulled over for that DUI back in sophomore year, and if they threw this on top of it . . .” His voice trailed off.
“You were scared. I get it,” I said.
“That’s not an excuse,” he replied, tears streaming down his face.
“I didn’t say it was,” I answered. “But I get it.”
“I should have told you,” he said.
“You should have told me,” I agreed. “I get that you were afraid of jail, but—”
“It wasn’t just jail,” he said. “I hurt you. I had taken your entire life away. You loved to swim. You were gonna go pro, and you couldn’t do that anymore, all because of what I did. I thought you were gonna hate me. But then you started talking about Cameron. All he had done was come running up when he saw the accident. I begged him not to say anything, and he didn’t, but I couldn’t let him go down for what I did.” He ran a hand through his hair. “So, I said I was with him, and the thing is, you hated me anyway.”
“I would have understood,” I said half quietly. “It hurt, and it changed my life forever, but I’d like to think that I would have understood.”
“I’m so sorry,” he cried. “I’m sorry for hurting you, I’m sorry for lying to you, I’m sorry for making you think that an innocent man was responsible for the worst thing that ever happened to you, and most of all, I’m sorry for all the wasted years when we could have been friends. I know it’s not much, and maybe it’s entirely too late, but I hope one day you can learn to forgive me. Especially after what I’m about to do.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“I’m going to the police,” he said. “I’m healed up enough, and finally thinking clearly enough to be able to take responsibility for what I did. I’m going to pay for what I did to you.”
I looked down at the floor and then back at my onetime friend. “No,” I said after a long moment. “You did all those things to me. So, let me be the one to tell you what has to happen now. You’re a soldier, Nate. You’re a damn good one too. You made a mistake a hundred years ago, and yeah, you should have come clean about it a long time ago. But we are where we are. You want to make amends? Go do what you’ve been doing. Be the best damn soldier you can be, and do it for me.”
“Are you . . . are you sure?” he asked breathlessly.
“No,” I admitted. “But it feels right, and maybe that’s enough.” With that, I turned and headed toward the door ready to truly put the night that changed my entire life behind me for the first time ever.
35
“Enjoying yourself?” Riley asked as he walked up to me. I was standing out on the beach at that special place where the sea meets the sand. The sun went down as I let the salt tickle my toes. This was where I belonged. It was the one place in the world where everything made sense, where everything felt whole to me.
“I always enjoy myself here,” I said truthfully.
“Good,” he chimed. “Because after what you’ve been through, you deserve to be happy.”
“I’m just glad everything worked out,” I said. “Abby is behind bars, Gina is laid to rest, and we can hopefully put all of this behind us.”
“Not to mention that your job went back to normal.” Riley snickered. “I know you well enough to know you missed the beat.”
“It’s the greatest feeling in the world,” I said, looking out at the water. “Saving people, helping them. I couldn’t ask for a better life.” I looked over at my friend. “I was telling that to Jules last night over dinner. She kept apologizing to me for what her brother did back in high school. Even though it’s not her fault, she couldn’t understand why I wasn’t bitter about it. In answering her, I realized something. There isn’t anywhere I would rather be. There isn’t any life I would rather have. This, right here, right now, is all I’ve ever wanted. I’m the luckiest bastard in the world.”
“If you’re having dinner with Jules, you are,” Riley said, elbowing me playfully.
“It’s not like that,” I said. “We’re friends.”
“Sure,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Of course, you are.”
“You idiot.” I chuckled, shaking my head.
“Listen,” he said. “Don’t be mad at me or anything, but I did a thing.”
“A thing?” I asked, tilting my head to the side curiously.
“You’re pretty famous, you know,” he said. “Hero lifeguard of the Shorewatch. A lot of people are interested in you.”
“What did you do?” I asked, my chest tightening.
“Well, I figured it would be horrible to let that fame go to waste,” he said. “I figured you needed some representation, and who better to do that than yours truly?”
“Riley?” I asked, my eyes widening. “You didn't?”
“I made a website and an email address. I figured anyone who wanted to hire you to open a grocery store or appear at their kid’s birthday party could reach out that way.” He shrugged. “You could grace them with your presence for a nominal fee, and your agent could take a little off the top for his trouble.”
“I’m assuming you’re my agent?” I asked.
“I
am,” he said.
“I’m not doing that,” I replied. “I’m not cashing in on tragedy. Besides, I don’t want to go to some spoiled kid’s birthday party.”
“That’s the thing. That’s not what happened,” Riley said. “The emails started pouring in, but they weren’t from people who wanted you to appear somewhere. They were from people who needed your help.”
“What?” I asked.
“So many of them,” he said. “Turns out everyone needs the hero lifeguard for one reason or another. Missing kids. Stolen inheritances. You wouldn’t believe all the crap that goes down around these parts. They’re all looking at you, Danny. They’re all asking you for help.”
“Well,” I said, tightening my hand around my torp and thinking about everything that had happened and everything that could, “who am I to let them down?”