I grab some clothes from my closet and make my way to the bathroom. My reflection startles me. I run my fingertip along some of the stitches. I’m going to look like Frankenstein if these don’t heal properly.
Not that it matters. Who am I trying to impress?
I peel off my shirt and pants and study my body. More stitches. The dried blood—Kade’s blood—has caked itself around my belly button and underneath my bra. There’s even some stuck in my curls. It’s almost not even noticeable, but it crunches when I twist it.
I’m about to wash away part of Kade. The last bit of his life that drained away the night before.
The thought presses on me, crushes me. I sit on the toilet lid and close my eyes. All I see is Kade on the ground. His eyes closing. I vaguely hear him telling me he loves me.
I’ll never hear his voice again.
My eyes snap open. No, that’s not true. I have video after video of him on my phone.
I race out of the bathroom and back to my bedroom. Where’s my purse? My phone? I rifle through my things, unable to find them.
Then I remember. I couldn’t find them in the car. I’d gone to the hospital without them.
Were they evidence, along with the dress Kade had picked out, so excited to see me in it?
I lean against my bed and slink to the floor. The world overwhelms me. Will I ever see the videos again? Hear Kade’s voice? I rest my forehead against my knees and give into the tears.
A few minutes later, I hear footsteps.
“Oh, Sutton.” Mom sits next to me and puts her arm around me. “I’d ask what’s wrong, but…”
I turn to look at her. “My phone is in my purse!”
“Do you want me to get it?”
Hot tears blur my vision. “It’s in Kade’s car!”
“Honey, I’m sure we’ll get it back.”
I blink and the tears spill onto my cheeks. My insides are ripping apart. I want to yell, but my voice only comes out in a whisper. “It has all my videos and pictures of Kade. I want to see him. Hear his voice. I’m going to die if I can’t.”
Tears shine in her eyes. “I hate that I can’t make this better for you.”
“I just want to see him.”
She sits up straight. “I have some pictures and videos on my phone. Not as many as you do, I’m sure, but I do have some.”
My breath catches. “You do?”
Relief washes through me. Then another thought strikes. “There are pictures online. Ones I’ve posted, and also ones other people have!”
“You know what else?” Mom asks.
“What?”
“Your tablet and your laptop both sync the pictures, don’t they?”
I slap my forehead. “I totally forgot because I take all the pictures on my phone. The devices do sync. They’ll have everything except the ones from last night. Thanks, Mom!”
She kisses my forehead. “Why don’t you get that shower, then we can look through those together? Over lunch, perhaps.”
“Okay.”
She gives me a sad smile before leaving the room. I go over to my bed and dig through a pile of things on the floor until I find my tablet. The battery is dead.
Why don’t I ever plug it in before this happens? I go to my charging station and plug it in. Then I tap a key on my laptop to see if that’s charged.
My favorite picture of Kade and me at the lake pops on the screen, the password box covering our chins. We look so happy and in love. We were so happy and in love.
I hold onto that feeling and go back to the bathroom to shower off, pretending that nothing has changed. But standing under the spray, watching the red melt off my body, I’m forced to face the truth. I slide to the floor and sob until Mom knocks on the door.
“Are you okay in there?”
“Almost done!” I pull myself to my feet and lather some conditioner in my hair.
By the time I sit down at the dining room table, the food is cold.
“Do you want me to warm it up, sweetie?” Miss Alice asks.
I shake my head. “Thanks, though.” And it really doesn’t matter because I can’t taste the meal, anyway.
Mom stands her tablet up on the table and scrolls through the images, stopping at each one with Kade. I’m surprised at how many she has. I guess he’d become part of our family, especially with Rogan living out of the state. Our family keeps shrinking. First, Dad left. Then Rogan moved away. Now Kade is gone. And I’m going all the way to Harvard in a few months.
I turn to Mom. “What are you going to do when I go to college?”
Her brows draw together. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to leave you alone in this big house.”
“Miss Alice is here.”
“Seriously, Mom.”
A strange look covers her face, like she’s hiding something.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“I wasn’t going to say anything yet, but…” She scrunches her forehead like she’s deep in thought.
“What?”
“I’ve been seeing someone for a few months, and it might be turning serious.”
“You have?” I hadn’t noticed her acting any differently. “Really? Who?”
She rests her hand on top of mine. “I’m not sure now’s really the time to talk about it.”
“I’d feel better knowing you’re happy.” I glance over at the tablet, which shows a picture of Kade with my brother the first time they met. I can see Rogan’s protective nature behind his smile. He wasn’t about to trust any boyfriend of mine, but Kade eventually won him over. Actually, it didn’t take long at all.
Mom takes a deep breath. “His name is Hank, and we met through a mutual friend.”
“He’s good to you?” I pull myself away from the picture of my two favorite guys.
The corners of her mouth curve upward. “He really is. I’ve never met anyone so kindhearted.”
“I’d like to meet him. Maybe not right now, but soon.”
Mom squeezes my hand. “I’d really like that.”
“Tell me about him.”
She gives me a sideways glance. “If you eat while I do.”
I sigh and pick up my fork. “Okay.”
Mom waits for me to take a bite of the tasteless food. “He’s a high school teacher and tennis coach. Loves kids and was widowed about five years ago.”
“How old are his kids?”
“One’s in junior high and the other in high school. Hank’s pretty busy with them.” Mom continues talking about him, and I try to pay attention but my gaze keeps wandering back to the image of Kade and Rogan.
After I eat enough to satisfy Mom, she asks if I need anything.
I shake my head. “I’m going to go to the lake.”
Her eyes widen, probably because of the people who’ve jumped in to end their lives there. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“No, it’s not that. I’m just going there to think. To soak in the sun. Maybe it’ll help me feel a little better.” I doubt it, but what else am I going to do?
She shoves her phone at me. “Take this with you. Call me on the house line if you need anything.”
“Okay.” She squeezes my shoulder before grabbing her tablet and heading upstairs.
I stare at the beige wall for a few minutes before forcing myself to my feet. Miss Alice comes in and gives me a sad smile, then hugs me. “I’m really sorry about Kade. It’s such a shock.”
I return the embrace. “Tell me about it.” Then I trudge out of the room, feeling as though lead weights are tied to my arms and legs.
The sun beats down on me as I cross our large backyard and come to the private lake. It used to be where Kade and I would meet when we wanted to get away from our families.
Anchor is sitting in our spot. It jars me for a moment, but then I find I’m glad he’s there.
“Mind if I sit?”
He glances up at me, his eyes wide with surprise. It looks like he tries
to smile, but his lips barely do more than twitch. “Kade’s favorite spot.”
I nod, then plunk down.
Anchor draws some stars in the sand. “He claimed this spot as his when we were five. Said he owned it and would buy it if anyone else tried to take it from him.”
I smile, remembering Kade as a little kid who knew what he wanted. We all went to school together from preschool on, although I never hung out with either one of them until Kade showed up at school the fall that Rogan moved away. Kade had transformed from a scrawny loud kid to a man over the summer. He’d grown a good six inches and had filled out, nearly making my eyes bulge from my head when I saw him. And I hadn’t been the only one to notice. But I had been the one who caught his attention. Probably because I’d been nice to him before his transformation, unlike so many of the other girls.
“How are you holding up?” I finally ask.
Anchor frowns. “I never knew anything could hurt so much.”
“Me neither.”
“What about his parents? I feel like I should go over there, but I’m kind of scared. They have to be falling apart.”
“They are. This morning, they went to the morgue. There’s a lot of paperwork, and they have to plan the funeral.”
I close my eyes. “That’s going to suck so bad. I can’t even think about it.”
“My parents are helping them. They want to know if we want to say anything at the service.”
I look at Anchor. “Are you going to?”
“I’m his best friend. I think I have to.”
“You don’t have to do anything.”
“No, but I should. For him.”
Anchor’s words deflate me. “I should too. For Kade.”
“It’s up to you. Don’t feel pressured.”
“I don’t.”
We sit in silence for a while. The only thing that indicates time passing is the people who come and go around us. The whole world is going on as if everything hasn’t changed. As if my world hasn’t shattered into a million pieces. Everyone runs around on the sand like it isn’t anything special when Kade will never again get to run on it. He loved the warm sand around this lake.
Silent tears fall to my face and stick to my stitches.
Anchor puts his arm around me. “I know. Believe me, I know.”
Sutton
The days leading up to the funeral have been a massive blur. I’m not even sure how many days it has been. I don’t want to think about how long it’s been since I last saw Kade. Somehow I managed to get up to the pulpit and share about him. I’m not sure I made any sense, but everyone clapped. Though it would’ve been rude not to, I’m guessing.
Kade’s dad and one sister shared, as did Anchor. His mom barely looked up from her handkerchief. Not that I blame her. I’ve barely left my bed. It was all I could muster to get to the church for the service.
Now I’m sitting in the almost-empty sanctuary.
A hand rests on my shoulder. “Are you coming downstairs?”
I fight the heaviness of my head and look up to see my brother. “I guess I have to.”
Rogan sits next to me and kisses my forehead. “You don’t have to do anything. In fact, the Sutton I know would do the opposite of what she’s expected to do.”
Tears blur my vision. “I don’t want to face anyone.”
“Then don’t.” He pulls me into a hug. “I’ll stay here with you until you’re ready to go home.”
I rest against his strong frame, memories of him protecting me over the years running through my mind. “Thanks for always being there for me.”
He sighs. “I wish I could’ve been there for you the night it happened.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to be.”
Rogan clears his throat. “I’m here now, and so is Kenna. You can talk to either of us, and after we have to return to our tour, you can call us whenever you need to.”
“Thanks.” My voice cracks and I sit up. “I’d better go downstairs and get this over with.”
He helps me up and together we head downstairs to the fellowship hall. I gather some food and join my friends, ignoring the plate on my lap. My friends are whispering gossip about Anchor’s ex-girlfriend. It’s too much. I rise and dump my full plate in the garbage.
Lucy looks up at me. “Are we upsetting you?”
“I just need some air.” And Kade brought back to life.
Natalie jumps up. “We’re being rude. We should be doing something for you.”
I shake my head. “Honestly, I just need to be alone. It’s not you, I swear.”
She frowns. “What can we do?”
“Nothing.” I head for the back door, which is propped open.
Anchor is leaning against an oak tree, cigarette in hand.
I walk over and arch an eyebrow. “You smoke?”
He flicks it, dropping ashes. “Today I do.”
“Just today?”
Anchor nods. “One day won’t hurt me. More than that, and this crap will kill me. Two relatives died of lung cancer.”
I lean next to him and watch him from the corner of my eye. He doesn’t take any drags. Just looks at the cancer stick. Then he drops it and steps on it.
“Did you inhale any of that?”
“Yes,” he says quickly. Then he frowns. “No. I thought about it, though.”
I can’t help but smile. “Kade would be proud of you.”
Anchor shrugs, then he pulls out the memorial card and studies the front, a large image of Kade above the dates of his birth and death. It was one of his senior pictures. Anchor turns to me. “Can you believe it’s been a week?”
“I haven’t been counting.”
“Today’s the first official day of summer. Kade and I usually celebrate by sneaking out to the lake at midnight and going for a skinny dip.”
“Seriously?”
He nods. “I went out this morning.”
“I didn’t need to know that.”
Anchor chuckles.
Then an unrelated thought hits me. “Today’s the twentieth?”
“Twenty-first,” he corrects.
Dread runs through me and I bury my face into my palms.
“What’s the matter?”
I look up at him, my pulse racing. “Promise not to tell anyone?”
“Yeah. What is it?” He turns toward me, worry lines creasing in his forehead.
It’s hard to breathe. I can’t believe I’m about to say this. “I’m late, Anchor.”
“For what?” His eyes widen. “Wait. You mean…?”
I bite my lower lip, then pull out my phone that I got back from the police three or four days earlier. My fear is confirmed when I open the calendar app. “I should’ve started two days before graduation. But with all the festivities, then the accident, I just didn’t notice. It’s been over a week.”
His face is pale. “You… but people are late all the time, right? Can’t stress do that?”
“Except that I’ve never been late. I’m like a well-oiled machine.”
“But you could be late. Couldn’t you? That kind of thing happens.”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “It’s possible, but highly unlikely.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to have to take a test. I can’t wait any longer. It’s already been over a week.”
Anchor glances to the left. “There’s a convenience store over there. I’ll go get you one.”
“What? Right now? Are you sure?” My heart is going to explode out of my chest. I can’t do this. Not here. Not today. At Kade’s funeral.
He holds up a finger. “I’ll be right back.” Then he runs off before I can protest.
My breathing grows ragged. I slide down to sit on the ground, the rough bark catching on one of my stitches. I rub it, but barely notice it. I’m more or less numb.
Could I actually be pregnant with Kade’s baby? The thought makes my stomach lurch, but then another thoug
ht gives me pause. Part of him could live on in the baby. I might be able to keep a living, breathing part of Kade.
But then I’d be pregnant at eighteen. Unwed and pregnant. My dad will have a fit.
Good. The jerk has hardly been involved with my life since he started his new family, and he didn’t even bother to show up today. I don’t care what he thinks. The only person whose opinion matters is dead.
I press on my lower abdomen. Nothing feels different. Actually, it feels slimmer, but that’s because I’ve hardly eaten since the accident. That can’t be good if I’m carrying a baby. Maybe it’s too early to make a difference. But what do I know?
Anchor appears at the edge of the property. He jogs over, carrying a small paper bag. “Do you want to do this here or later?”
My stomach lurches. “Better get this over with.”
He hands me the bag. I stare at him, fear pulsing through me.
“I saw some bathrooms upstairs. Maybe no one’s there.”
“Okay.” I swallow, then follow him around to the front of the building, holding the bag behind me. I feel like throwing up. From my emotions or hormones?
“I’ll be right here.” Anchor stands next to the door.
I just nod. My mouth is too dry to respond. Every step feels like twenty. I lock the door and pull the little box from the bag and read the instructions five times. Then I pull out the stick and stare at it. I hope I have enough pee for this to work.
There’s only one way to find out. I sit on the toilet and give it a go. The floodgates release and now I think I peed on it too long. Too much is better than not enough, right? I hope so.
I stare at the window, unable to breathe. This little white stick is going to tell me my future. It could change everything.
The control line shows right away. That’s supposed to mean the test works. I think that’s what the box said.
Knock, knock!
“You okay in there?”
I glance up to make sure the door is locked. “Just waiting for it.”
“Okay.”
The test has two more lines. They’re in the shape of a plus sign. A positive.
I’m pregnant.
The Only Things You Can Take (Wildflower Romance #2) Page 3