As my mother and brother let out long sighs and stare at me like I’m on the verge of dying, I hesitate.
What if they’re right?
Life with Finn has been exhilarating. Exciting. Invigorating.
But is it too much?
I think of my childhood bedroom, and the stacks of sketchbooks that I’ll continue to amass. I could go back there and study art. I could become a graphic designer, if I wanted to do something more lucrative. I could live a normal, safe, regular life…
…without Finn.
My stomach fists, and I know I can’t do that. Living without Finn isn’t living at all.
But isn’t it better than being dead?
30
Finn
I wake up to a pounding headache and loud thumping on the door.
“Finn!” Sweeney’s voice calls through the closed door. “Open the fucking door. Now.”
I groan, sitting up on the sofa. A couple of empty cans clatter at my feet and I stare at them, seeing nothing. The knocking continues until I drag myself to the door and pull it open.
Sweeney’s mad. Furious, even. At least as mad as Esme’s mother was yesterday.
“What the fuck?” His words slice through me like knives.
I pull the door open wider to let him in. I deserve a berating, and he’s the most appropriate person to give it to me. I hope he hits me.
“You’re back,” I say. My voice scratches through my throat. It feels like nails scraping my vocal cords from the inside.
“What were you thinking?”
I don’t have to ask what he’s talking about. I rake my fingers through my hair, tugging at the greasy strands as I stumble back to lean on the arm of the sofa.
Letting out a sigh, I shrug. “I wasn’t.”
“You’re fucking right, you weren’t.” Kit’s eyes blaze. He takes a step toward me, clenching his fists by his sides. “Esme spent the whole night in the hospital. She has a serious concussion and a broken arm. My sister is recovering from fucking lymphoma, Finn. And you took her mountain biking?”
“She went skydiving. It’s not like I forced her.”
“Skydiving is different. It’s controlled. She was strapped to you the whole time.”
Don’t I remember. That’s what started this whole thing.
Kit lets out a long breath, lifting his eyes up to the ceiling. I’d be mad, too, if it were my sister lying in a hospital bed.
“Is she okay?” My voice is raspy. I’m almost afraid to ask.
“She will be.”
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. My face crumples and I can’t meet Sweeney’s eye.
“You’ve gone too far, Finn.” Kit’s voice is black. He stands there, in the middle of the apartment, as a chasm opens between us. “Esme isn’t as strong as she looks.”
“She is.” I lift my eyes to Kit’s, forcing myself to hold his gaze. She’s stronger than Kit thinks, than her mother thinks, than even Esme herself thinks. That’s what her family doesn’t understand. There’s a deep well of strength that comes from Esme’s soul. I know, because it’s been propping me up ever since she walked through the door.
She isn’t the sick little girl that she appears to be. She’s not weak. Or afraid. Or needing to be sheltered.
Esme is the light at the end of a long tunnel. She’s the smile that makes your heart feel alive. She’s everything good about the world.
“She’s stronger than you think, Kit,” I say.
“How the fuck would you know? You’ve known her two months, Finn. I told you to protect her. I thought I could trust you to keep an eye on her while I was gone. It’s your fault that she’s in the hospital. Do you even care?”
“Of course I fucking care. I lov—” The words explode out of me before I can stop them. I catch myself at the very last second, but not until Kit’s eyes widen.
Understanding flashes across his face, like the last notch on a lock clicking into place. The key turns, and the truth is revealed.
“You…” His voice trails off, and Kit sucks a breath through his teeth. “Did you…”
“I wanted to tell you, Sweeney. I did.” I stand up, taking a step toward him. “I was going to tell you when you got back from California. We both were.”
“Tell me what?”
I’ve never seen him like this. Kit’s vibrating. His whole body is shaking as he stares at me, his eyes almost completely black. The edge of his eyelid twitches as redness rises up his neck.
My stomach twists. This is my best friend, and I’m losing him, too.
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. None of this was supposed to happen! Esme and I were supposed to talk to him together when he was in the right headspace. We were supposed to explain how we felt about each other and convince him that it was a good idea for us to date.
“Finish what you were going to say.” Kit hisses the words at me, and the venom in his voice stings.
My heart hammers. I’m losing my best friend, and I might lose Esme, too. Sweeney stares at me across the deepening abyss, and I know I’m about to throw the ruins of our friendship away.
But I have to say it. I lift my chin, staring my best friend in the eye.
“I love her.”
I wish he’d punch me. I wish he’d sock me right across the face and give me what I deserve. He’s right—I’m the reason Esme is in the hospital. I’m the reason she’s hurt.
But I love her. That’s true, too.
Kit doesn’t punch me. He walks toward the door and rips it open, standing in the opening as he looks over his shoulder.
“She’s leaving tomorrow. Lydia’s taking her back to Seattle in the morning. Seems like she doesn’t share the feeling.” He pauses, glaring. “And I’m leaving, too. I quit.”
I should have been expecting it. I should have known that Esme would be whisked away from me just as soon as I realized how much I needed her in my life.
Isn’t that the cruel reality of life? Just when you realize what’s been missing, when you think you’ve reached the top of the mountain, when the clouds part, and a bright future shows itself to you…
That’s when fate snatches it all away.
He walks away, and my world crumbles. It’s over. It’s all over. I’m not just losing Esme, I’m losing Kit, too. The love of my life and my best friend, both gone in one fell swoop. Everything good about my life, decimated.
Kit won’t fly planes for me anymore, even if his anger quiets down. His loyalties lie with his sister.
And her loyalties? Is she really going to leave without talking to me? Is she going to throw everything away?
I scramble for my phone, my hands shaking as I dial her number.
Her voice is raspy when she answers. “Finn,” she says. “Hi.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I’m going to stay with my mom for a little while.”
A knife embeds itself in my chest, and I struggle to breathe. “What about me?” My voice sounds small. Pathetic.
“I need to recover, Finn. I can’t do that in Woodvale. I just… I just need some time to think. I’m not sure if we’re the best for each other. You need to be wild, and I need to be safe. How is that going to work?”
“I’ll keep you safe,” I whisper, my whole body shaking. “I will.”
“I’m sorry, Finn,” she says. Her voice is cold. Distant. “I need to go. The nurse is here. I’ll call you later.”
“Is that it? That’s the end?”
“No. I don’t know. I need space.” She lets out a shaky breath, and I can’t answer.
When the phone clicks, my heart breaks. I stare at my phone screen.
Thirty-eight seconds.
That’s how long it took for Esme to stick me with a knife and gut me like a fucking fish. She sliced me open from cock to collarbone and pulled all my organs out with nothing but a few words, letting them slop onto the ground at my feet in a bloody, messy heap.
I clutch my chest as pain rattles
through me.
It’s too much. It hurts so goddamn much I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t do anything except palm my chest and struggle to move.
Stumbling over my feet, I make it down the stairs just as Racer steps through the front door of the shop. When he sees me, he frowns.
For the first time in my life, I’m happy to see his smirking face. I jerk my chin at him.
“Woodvale Canyon Bridge,” I grunt. “Let’s do it.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
“You sure you’re okay? Have you been drinking?”
“Not since last night. I want to do it. I need to get it out of my system.”
I always thought of Racer as an adrenaline junkie like me. Just as fucked in the head. Just as insane. But he stares at me for a moment, and concern writes itself on his features.
“You shouldn’t do this if you’re not feeling—”
“I’m fine.”
“We have to be safe.”
“I’m fine.” I spit the words out, staring at him until he throws his hands up.
“Okay. Okay. We’ll do the jump. You need me to drive?”
“Drive me to the bridge and meet me at the bottom.”
“You got the gear?”
“At the airfield.”
I start walking toward the back of the building before Racer can stop me. He follows behind, and I can tell he’s holding his tongue. The company van is parked outside, with the two cursed mountain bikes still loaded into the back of it. We drive in silence to the airfield as I drum my fingers on the steering wheel and try to keep my pulse in check. My vision tunnels. My throat feels tight. My skin is so itchy that I want to scrape it all off.
I need to do something reckless. Something stupid. Something that has the potential to get me killed. I need to shock my system so that I can make sense of what the fuck is happening right now.
Esme’s leaving. She doesn’t think I’m the right guy for her. Kit won’t run the business with me.
I’ve lost my best friend and the love of my life—all because I was too stupid to see that Esme couldn’t handle her mountain bike. Because I pushed her too far. I tried to make her fit into my box, instead of respecting hers.
I did this. I caused this. This is my fault.
My hands are steady when Racer and I check the gear. My pulse is fast, but regular. My vision clears ever so slightly, and I let Racer brief me on what to expect at the top of the bridge.
“I’ll meet you when you land. You’ll have to jump heading south, so I can meet you on the Old Gulley Road at the bottom. There are a lot of police patrols on the bridge, so we’ll need to be quick.”
We check my gear one last time, and I pack my chute into its bag.
Racer glances at me once more. “You sure about this? I know I bust your balls about being a pussy, but BASE jumping is dangerous. You shouldn’t do it if you don’t want to.”
“I want to. Here.” I throw him the keys to the van. “You drive.”
He gulps, watching me for another second, and finally nods. My knee bounces up and down the whole way to the bridge. The closer we get, the more frayed my nerves become. Every minute that passes winds me tighter, and tighter, and tighter. My breath is shallow, and all I can think about is jumping.
That moment when I leave the safety of the bridge. When adrenaline reaches a peak inside me. When nothing exists except me and my mortality.
That’s what I need right now. I need the extreme. The reckless. The crazy.
I need to get Esme out of my fucking brain.
When we get to the bridge, Racer has the decency to stay quiet. He nods at me before we start driving over it, and I know I won’t have much time to get out of the van, climb over the guardrail, and jump down.
My fix is so close. I lick my lips, almost tasting the shot of adrenaline that I’m about to receive. I’m craving it, deep in the darkest part of my soul. I’m empty inside except for this all-consuming need.
Racer slows down halfway across the bridge, and I open the passenger door. As soon as I’m on the road, Racer’s driving off. The only thing standing in my way is a chest-high guardrail.
There’s no fear. No excitement. No anticipation.
My mind is clear, and I feel completely empty, save for the compulsion to jump.
So, I do. I heave myself over the guardrail just as a police siren flicks on. Glancing down to the far end of the bridge, I see a cruiser racing toward me.
Flashing them the first smile that’s graced my lips all day, I jump.
For the briefest moment, I consider not deploying my parachute at all. It’s a fleeting thought, and the whip of the air soon chases it away.
But it happens.
In the instant before I throw my pilot chute, my mind is clear. The ground is laid out below like a tapestry, and I’m flying through space. Wind whips around my face as my body falls, and I’m free.
The pain that has plagued my chest since yesterday evaporates. The whip of the air around my body clears my poisoned thoughts. The closeness of death makes me feel alive, if only for a moment.
I throw the pilot chute and feel the nylon canopy deploying overhead. It tugs my harness, slowing my descent enough that I know I’ll survive.
I throw my head back and let out a scream. It’s loud. Animalistic. It’s everything I’ve been keeping inside me and contains everything I wish I could let go.
I scream for Esme. For the accident. For the fact that she doesn’t want to be with me at all.
For these brief, few seconds, as I float through the air, I’m at peace.
Then, the flash of red and blue lights catches my eye, and I know I won’t be able to outrun them. Another police cruiser is waiting for me at the bottom.
31
Esme
My mother wheels me out of the hospital when I’m discharged. I let her lead me to her car, and we head to Kit’s house to grab my things.
My suitcase is already packed when I get to his place. It sits in the foyer, waiting for me. The sight of it makes me hesitate.
Am I really going to leave Woodvale without saying goodbye to Finn? Without talking to him about what happened and what’s going on between us?
“You want some lunch before we head home?” my mother asks from the kitchen, already preparing food for me. “Your brother said he’d be here to say goodbye. He had some things to pick up at the airfield, so we have a few minutes before we leave.”
I grunt in response, sinking down onto the sofa. My head falls into my hand and I let out a heavy sigh.
My gut churns uncomfortably. A weight presses down on my shoulders so hard I think it might grind me into dust. Everything hurts. The arm in my cast pulses with every heartbeat, and my head still feels like it’s full of cotton balls.
As my mother talks about everything and nothing in the kitchen behind me, I try to keep the broken pieces of my heart together.
Is this really what I want? To leave Finn behind?
He’s the whole reason my time in Woodvale has been so good. He made me feel alive and made me want more out of life. His energy shook me awake and opened my eyes to what I’ve been missing.
Sure, he loves adrenaline. He’s a wild animal, and I doubt he’ll ever be tamed.
But isn’t that what attracted me in the first place? His recklessness. His energy. His freedom.
I’ve spent my whole life being safe. I’ve let my mother coddle me and tell me what’s best for me, without ever questioning it.
I had an excuse, sure. I was sick. The big, bad ‘c’ word that kept me small and afraid. I wore my illness like a yoke around my neck. I let it hem me in. I let it define me.
Why does it matter that I had cancer? Why should that stop me from doing things that excite me?
Why do I have to be so terrified?
As I sit there, alone in my own world, I feel like a light is flicked on in my brain. I’m going back to Seattle because I’m scared.
Scared of t
he way Finn makes me feel.
Scared of what might happen if I stay with him.
Scared of what might happen if I don’t.
My mother drops a plate with a ham and cheese sandwich on the coffee table, putting her hands on her hips. “Eat,” she commands. “We’ll leave once Kit gets here to say goodbye.”
On cue, the front door opens. Kit walks through with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. As soon as he gets inside, he drops it onto the floor beside him.
His face is dark.
I stand up, ignoring my mother’s protests. “I want to go see him,” I tell Kit.
“Who?” he asks, knowing exactly who I mean.
“Finn.”
Kit lets out a dry snort, shaking his head. “He’s in jail.”
I stutter, my eyes bugging out. “W-what?”
“I said, he’s in jail.”
“I heard what you said. But what do you mean? Why in jail? What happened? Does he need help?”
“He absolutely needs help,” Kit answers. “But not the kind you or I can give him. He needs fucking professional psychological help to fix the mess that he calls a brain.”
“Language, Kit,” my mother says, and a hurricane rages inside me. She’s worried about him swearing right now? The man I love is sitting in jail for reasons unknown, and she’s worried about the word fuck?
I can’t go back to Seattle with her. I can’t live under her thumb and go back to the way things were. I’m not angry and afraid anymore. I want to be happy. Carefree.
I want to be with Finn.
“Why is he in jail?” My voice is breathless. I stare at my brother, gripping the edge of the couch as I try to stay standing. My broken arm throbs, the sling rough against my neck.
I want to run to Finn, but my feet are stuck to the ground. My brother lifts his eyes to mine, letting out a heavy sigh.
“He did a BASE jump off the Woodvale Canyon Bridge. The police saw him and met him at the bottom.” He snorts, shaking his head. “He deserves to be in jail, Esme. Either that, or dead. I can’t believe I started a business with that idiot, and I was a moron to leave you with him.”
Can't Have You: A Stand-Alone Brother's Best Friend Romance Page 18