I scrub a hand over my face. “Do you mind me asking what stage the cancer is in?”
“Four.”
“Shit.” The word is out of my mouth before I can stop it.
A humorless chuckle escapes from Dean’s lips. “That pretty much sums it up, but we’re fighting it the best we can. If this drug doesn’t give us the results we’re looking for, there’s a new trial opening up in a month or so and that one might be a possibility. It’s all a waiting game.”
Dean has cancer.
“How is Skye taking it?”
He looks away as emotion swims in his eyes. He’s always had a real soft spot for his daughter. “She’s handling it about as well as can be expected. She mentioned withdrawing for the semester, but I don’t want her to put her life on hold.” His gaze hardens as it settles on mine. “She’s had a rough couple of years.”
I straighten to my full height as my heart skips a beat. “What do you mean by that?”
What the hell has been so hard? Dumping my ass and moving away?
He presses his lips together before muttering, “You know what? Never mind.”
His behavior…it’s odd. I’m not quite sure what to make of it.
“What’s going on with Skye?” The hair at the back of my neck prickles and I lift my hand to rub it. He’s keeping information from me and I need to know what it is.
“I’m sorry. It’s not my place to get involved.”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about—involved in what?” My voice escalates and a few people glance our way.
Instead of answering the question, Dean claps me on the shoulder. “It was great running into you, Hunter. I hope everything turns out the way you want it to.” Then he steps around me and heads for the exit.
I swing around and stare after him in shock.
He can’t leave me hanging like this.
What the hell was he talking about?
I take a few strides in his direction before reaching out to grab his arm. As my fingers sink into bone, I loosen my grip, not wanting to cause him any pain.
“Mr. Sinclair, what’s going on?”
“Look, I shouldn’t have said anything.” His voice grows agitated. “It’s not my place.”
“What does that even mean? Not your place? If there’s something going on with Skye, I want to know about it.” Neither of us mention that I’m no longer her boyfriend and when it comes down to it, I have no right to any information regarding her welfare.
He pauses as his gaze searches mine. “You need to have a conversation with your brother.”
Mason?
I jerk back. “What does Mason have to do with this?”
“Just ask him.”
“What exactly am I supposed to ask?” I shake my head as frustration gathers inside me.
Ignoring my question, he says, “I’m sorry, Hunter. I really have to go. Brandi’s waiting in the car for me. Take care and good luck.” With that, he slips out of my fingers.
Even after he disappears through the door and into the fresh air, I stare after him in bewilderment. It was like he was talking in riddles. What the hell does any of it mean?
I’m shaken from those thoughts by a tap on my arm.
“You’re Hunter Price, right?”
I force myself out of those thoughts and hoist a smile. “Yup.” Everything is about image these days. I already have one strike against me with my injury, I don’t need another.
“Can I get a quick photo with you?” the woman asks.
“Sure. No problem.” I keep my expression cemented in place as she snaps a few pictures, but my mind continues to spiral. Is it possible the medication was messing with Dean’s head? I mean…that can happen, right? Some of those drugs are really powerful and there are a lot of side effects.
As I walk through the corridors, the conversation plays over in my head as if it’s on a constant loop. I’m tempted to chalk it up to mental confusion, but Skye’s father hadn’t seemed out of it. He’d looked thinner, tired, but his mind had been sharp. There was nothing about our interaction that made me feel like he was losing it.
By the time I make it back to the emergency room, I’m no closer to finding an answer than I was before. Why would he drag Mason into this? Nothing about our conversation had made sense. Instead of continuing to dwell on it, I decide to put the whole thing out of my head. I’ve got enough to worry about without looking for problems where none exist.
“Hey, good news,” Mason says as I draw back the curtain. “They’re going to release me in about an hour. They want to hold on to me for a bit longer and make sure I don’t have a concussion, but it all looks good.”
“That’s awesome.” I set the paper bag from the coffee shop on the small table next to the bed.
“Damn right it is.” He closes his eyes and settles against the pillow. “I want to get the hell out of here.”
“I know. Did they give you anything for the headache?”
“Yup. Two Tylenol that will end up costing me a couple hundred bucks.”
I snort. He’s right about that.
“You were gone for a while. Everything good?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.” I lift my shoulder into a shrug. “It took a while to find the coffee shop. This place is like a maze.” The conversation with Dean flashes through my head. What’s the point of mentioning it? It was all a bunch of nonsense. And yet, the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I ran into Dean Sinclair.”
Mason cracks open his eyes and rolls his head toward me. “Oh? What was he doing here?”
I drag a hand through my hair as another wave of disbelief washes over me. “He was diagnosed with cancer last year.”
My brother’s expression softens. “That sucks.”
“It really does.” I’m still blown away that Skye didn’t mention anything about it. I know things have been rocky between us, but still…
I would have liked to know what was going on with her father. Maybe if she’d told me, I wouldn’t have been such a dick.
“Is it bad?” my brother asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“Stage four.”
He blows out a breath. “Fuck.”
I drop onto the chair and lace my fingers together in front of me before staring at them. “That was my reaction, too.”
“Guess that would be the reason Skye transferred to Claremont.”
I remain silent as Mason shifts against the pillow, trying to get comfortable. “I’m sorry about her father but I’m glad she didn’t come back for you.”
Bewildered by the comment, my head jerks up. “Jeez, Mase, that’s a shitty thing to say.”
He shrugs as his gaze skitters away. “Yeah, but it’s the truth.”
“You know, there was a time when you actually liked her, and we all had fun together. What changed?”
“Life,” he snaps before closing his eyes and huffing out a breath. “That’s what. Do we really have to talk about this now? My head is fucking killing me. Skye Sinclair is the last person I want to think about. That girl is part of your past. Leave her where she belongs.”
“And what if she’s not?” It’s the one question that has been plaguing me since she returned. No matter how hard I’ve tried, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.
Mason’s eyes spring wide before narrowing. “What the hell does that mean?”
“There’s a lot of history between us. Leaving her in the past isn’t as easy as you seem to think it is. And you know what?” I straighten my shoulders before admitting, “Maybe I don’t want to.”
“It’s been three years, bro. You’ve both moved on.” He sits up and winces before falling against the pillows. “Are you forgetting about the way she dumped your ass? You were together for almost four years and she left you behind without a second thought.”
I press my lips into a tight line. He’s not wrong. That’s exactly how it went down. The pain of it still radiates beneath the surface. I’ve been t
rying to tell myself for years that it didn’t matter anymore. I was over it. Over her. Only now am I able to admit that it’s not the truth. Wanting to be over someone doesn’t necessarily mean that you are.
I drag a hand over my face and stew in the chair I’m sitting on. Dean’s words continue to reverberate throughout my brain. Mason’s hatred for Skye churns there as well. None of it makes sense.
“The best thing that girl ever did for you was leave,” Mason grumbles.
Unable to sit still, I spring to my feet. “You know that’s not true. I loved her.” I pause before pushing out the rest. “And she loved me.” No matter how it ended between us, Skye loved me. I refuse to believe any differently. What we had was real.
“Yeah, well…apparently not. Get over it and move the fuck on. I’m tired of talking about her.”
Agitation pounds through me and I find myself pacing the tight space. It only takes a few strides and I’m spinning around, moving in the opposite direction. “She did. I know she did.”
Why is he doing this? It’s as if he’s deliberately trying to drive the knife deeper.
I spin toward him and stop. “Why do you have such a problem with Skye?”
“As long as she stays away from you, I don’t have any problems with her.”
The fury brewing in his eyes bewilders me. I’ve never understood it.
“She was nothing more than a distraction,” he mutters.
“That’s not true.” Skye was my everything and he damn well knows it.
After our parents died, Mason’s attitude about her did a complete one-eighty. He bitched about the amount of time we spent together. He couldn’t understand why I wanted to be tied down to one girl. He’d make sly little comments that were meant to stir up trouble. For the most part, I blew off his grumblings but maybe there was more to them than I’d assumed.
Dean’s words force themselves to the forefront of my brain.
Ask your brother.
“Did you have something to do with Skye breaking up with me?”
Guilt flickers across Mason’s face before it disappears, and he laughs off the question. “Give me a damn break. I really hope you’re not being serious.”
Why else would Dean tell me to ask Mason?
What other explanation could there be?
“Just tell me that you had nothing to do with her leaving.” Maybe this isn’t the time or place for this conversation, but I need to hear him confirm it.
“Bro, are you sure you’re not the one who cracked your head? You’re not making a damn bit of sense.”
Maybe I’m not, but it doesn’t escape me that he hasn’t denied the accusation.
Say the fucking words. That’s all he needs to do. Then we can move on.
My gaze stays pinned to his as I step closer to the bed. “We’ve always promised each other that we would never lie. Do you remember that?”
Mason presses his lips together and remains silent. It’s enough to jack with my nerves.
“Tell me the truth, Mase,” I plead. My tongue darts out to moisten my lips. “Tell me that you had nothing to do with Skye taking off after graduation.”
His gaze slides away from mine as he mumbles, “I’m fucking exhausted, Hunt. Can we do this another time?”
“No.”
Storm clouds gather in his eyes. “What does it matter? It happened years ago. It’s over and done with. You need to move on.”
He’s not denying it.
“Why would you do that?” I shake my head in disbelief. It can’t be true. And yet…all he’s done is dance around the question. “You knew how much I loved her.” My voice continues to escalate. “I wanted to marry that girl!”
His upper lip curls with disdain. “You were too damn young to be making that kind of decision. She was holding you back from reaching your full potential. Who knows if you would be where you are today if she hadn’t left town!”
“Damnit!” I plow my hands through my hair. “You had no right to interfere in my life!”
Mason pokers up on the bed and winces before stabbing a finger in my direction. “I had every fucking right! Mom and Dad died, and I was the one left in charge! I was the one who had to make all the decision! Your head was buried so far up that girl’s ass. It was ridiculous and she needed to go.” He spreads his arms wide and grunts as pain flashes across his face. “You should be thanking me right now, not giving me shit about some chick from high school.”
This can’t be happening.
It’s not possible.
I open my mouth to blast him, but nothing comes out. There are no words for the betrayal I feel. The sight of Mason makes me sick to my stomach. There’s no way I can stay here. If I do, I’ll end up saying something I might regret.
When I pull back the curtain, he says, “Hey! Where are you going?” For the first time since we started this conversation, fear creeps into his voice.
I don’t bother to answer.
“Hunt!” he calls out desperately. “They’re going to release me soon and I need a ride home.”
“Figure it out on your own,” I call over my shoulder, leaving the room behind.
It’s like my whole goddamn world has caved in around me and I’m trapped beneath the rubble of it.
How could Mason betray me like this?
How could he go behind my back and get rid of the one person who meant the most to me?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Hunter
I push my legs harder until the burn consumes me. Slowly it spreads from my legs, to my torso, to my chest before infecting my entire body like a virus. It drowns out the loud buzzing in my head. The only problem is that it’s not a long-term solution. The moment I stop, it all comes rushing back at me, threatening to suck me under.
It’s been days since I discovered the truth, and I’m still as pissed off as I was at the hospital. It never occurred to me that Mason could be behind our breakup.
Why the hell would I suspect that was a possibility?
He knew how much I loved her. It took months for me to get over the loss. That summer sucked ass. I moped around the entire time, locking myself in my room. How ironic that it was Mason who consoled me. He sat beside me, saw the pain that was eating me alive, and said nothing.
How could he do that?
How could he be so fucking cold-hearted?
He’s been calling and texting nonstop, but I can’t bring myself to pick up the phone. I have nothing to say to him. There is no forgiveness in my heart.
And then there’s Skye. Why didn’t she tell me what was going on? Why did she go along with it and leave?
That’s the part that doesn’t make sense.
How much could she have loved me if she was willing to walk away without a fight?
By the time I race around the corner and the ocean comes into view, I know exactly where I’ve been headed this entire time. It’s the place where Skye and I made so many memories in high school. The sun peeks over the horizon as I draw closer to the water. Reds and pinks have been splashed across the eastern sky.
Normally, these morning runs calm me from the inside out. I’m able to center myself and get my Zen on. The traffic is light and there aren’t a lot of people out and about. I’ll cross paths with a few other joggers or early risers out walking their dogs. That’s the extent of it. But none of that matters today, because there is no peace to be found. My head continues to swim and my gut churns.
Even before my gaze sweeps across the beach, I know she’ll be there. A solitary figure staring out at the rolling waves as they crash against the shore.
The last thing I should do is stop. I’m a fucking mess inside. There are too many emotions festering beneath the surface. It’s all raw and ugly.
My pace slows, and I find myself changing course.
For the last couple of days, I’ve been able to keep my brain occupied. School, practice, and working out. I’m so mentally and physically exhausted by the end of the night, that I fall into bed
and crash. But Skye is never far from my mind.
At this point, I’m not even sure if it’s possible for us to move forward in any kind of tangible way. It feels as if too much time has slipped by. Too much has happened between us. I’ve lashed out and hurt her when she was at her most vulnerable.
Skye’s huddled body tenses as I drop down to the sand beside her. Instead of acknowledging my presence, she ignores me. Her gaze stays fixated on some point in the distance.
Our last interaction crashes unexpectedly through my head and I wince, feeling like an asshole. There hadn’t been many words between us, just sex. A frenzied coupling that left me unfulfilled and empty. Every interaction between us had been like that. As much as I’d wanted her, I had needed to keep my distance more. It had been about protecting myself so that I wouldn’t get hurt again.
If I’m being completely honest, I had wanted to punish her for walking away. Not once had it occurred to me that she might have been in pain as well.
What a fucking mess.
“I can’t do this with you, Hunter,” Skye says wearily. “Not right now.”
She angles her head just enough for her gaze to settle on mine. So much heartbreak swims in her green depths that she is practically drowning in it. Her pain is like a punch to my gut. Only now, when it’s too late, am I able to fit the pieces together and make sense of the puzzle I’ve been staring at for the last two months.
When I remain silent, she adds, “There’s too much going on.”
Thick emotion swells in my chest and threatens to swallow me whole. In that moment, all I want to do is wrap her up in my arms and tell her that everything will be all right. Except, I don’t know if that’s true and there’s no way she would welcome my comfort. Not after the way I’ve treated her.
“I ran into your dad.” I pause as her eyes become shuttered. “I know about the cancer.”
Emotion moves across her face in a wave. Surprise, then sadness. “He told you?”
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