Ten Million Fireflies (Band of Sisters)

by Marianne Rice

  “Oh,” she said, closing her eyes. “Wow. Okay. What do you need me to do?” She kept her eyes closed and nodded while the detective continued.

  Drew wished he could hear what the detective was saying. The tightness in Brooke’s shoulders relaxed as she slumped slightly forward and she squeezed his hand back. A good sign.

  A few minutes later she hung up and set her phone down on the dock.

  “They found him.”

  “The arsonist?”

  “Flannery said you helped with the lead. Michael Westleigh admitted to doing it. He’s in a psychiatric hospital right now. He’s the older brother of—”

  “I know.”

  “He tried to set you up. He didn’t like that you were friends with the enemy, as he told Flannery. If you hadn’t been running through the woods that morning, he would have set fire to your house as well. At least that’s what he told the police when they questioned him. Your niece and nephew could have been in danger.”

  Drew rubbed her hand and opened his arms to her when she scooted close to him. Their thighs pressed against each other and she rested her head on his shoulder. He moved his hand around her back and tucked her close to him.

  “I’m going to rebuild and still open in the summer.”

  “I know you are.”

  “I’m serious.” She lifted her head and looked at him for the first time since he arrived. “I know you’re not happy about the camp opening, but it’s going to happen. This won’t stop me. It’s not a bad omen or bad luck; hell, it’s not even shit coincidence. Westleigh set the fire on purpose to stop me from moving forward. But I won’t stop. It’s about the kids. They need a place of refuge. The two boys who died here were terrible casualties, but it has nothing to do with this place. I want to bring happy memories to kids who are suffering.”

  “I know you do.” He brushed back her short hair and cupped her cheeks in his palms. “And you will. You’ll create beautiful memories, not only for those children but for their parents as well.”

  Her eyes grew wide with wary and suspicion. “You’re okay with this?”

  “My not wanting you to open up has been for purely selfish reasons. My guilt got in the way of realizing how much you could do for others. I guess part of me knew Ryan’s death had nothing to do with the camp or with me, but I’m beginning to believe it more now. Part of me knows it wasn’t my fault, but the other part of me wishes I’d...” He still had a confession to make.

  “We can’t change the past. We do, however, have control of our future. I’m a far cry from a good role model, but I’m trying to move forward with my life by creating dreams for children. Dreams I never had the luxury of having when I was young.” Brooke closed her eyes and rested her hand on his hip. “On the exterior, you’re this picture-perfect guy with the dream family and life. But on the inside...” she opened her eyes, and they stared at him with a deep sadness, “you’ve got two decades of childhood pain built up. Those deaths are not your fault, Drew.”

  His throat tightened, and he worked hard to swallow back the emotion. “Shane Collins drowned because he had undetected asthma and ran too fast and fell too hard. It wasn’t my fault. I know that, even though I wish I could have saved him.”

  “There’s nothing you could have done.” She twisted her body and straightened her leg so it rested on the deck behind him. Brooke mirrored his earlier actions by cupping his cheeks and forcing him to look her in the eyes. “Those boys died a tragic death, and you faced your own tragedy by witnessing them both. You were a young boy as well, Drew. If it wasn’t you there, it would have been someone else. It’s not you or the camp or the Shermans’ fault. Life throws us some real shit to deal with. It’s how we handle it that makes us who we are.”

  “You’ve had your share of shit slingers, too.”

  “More than you know.”

  “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here. No judging, no unsolicited advice.”

  “Thank you.” Brooke licked her lips, her gaze dropping to his mouth.

  The gentleman in him told him not to, but the hormones and love he had for her told him to go for it. He waited for her to make the first move.

  And waited.

  She didn’t. Brooke lowered her head to his shoulder again and sighed. In contentment, he hoped.

  “I’ve been using their deaths as an excuse for a long time,” he finally said.

  Her voice whispered across his neck. “An excuse for what?”

  “I don’t know.” The loons were long gone, and the water gently lapped against the shore. He envied the wildlife. There were no expectations of them; they were as free as they wanted to be. “To hide. To not let people in.”

  “You’re not as closed off as you like people to think you are.”

  But he was. The guilt drilled a hole through his chest like an auger bit and it was time to be free from it. No one knew, not a single soul in the world. Brooke was right. Now was the time for him to be free.

  “I was the counselor assigned to Ryan’s cabin.”

  “I know. That doesn’t make you at fault.” She rubbed her hand against his thigh in support.

  “He was an awkward kid screaming for attention and it was my job to make him feel comfortable. To befriend him and make sure he had a good time.” Drew gulped in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That night he asked if I’d hang back and play board games with him. I didn’t. Jessica Christie slipped me a note earlier in the day to meet her behind her cabin at seven. She was also a counselor, and I’d been drooling over her for the past two summers. I ditched the needy boy for a girl. If I hadn’t—” His breath hitched.

  “Drew.”

  “None of the other kids wanted to hang out with him that night. He was immature for his age and had a serious case of ADHD. The other boys wanted a break from him. I knew that, and I ditched him anyway to follow my hormones. He’d set up the game Clue and climbed up to the loft to get something. What, we’ll never know. The ladder wasn’t attached when I found him. It was on the floor of the cabin in three pieces. Ryan had been stuck up there for who knows how long.”

  Brooke squeezed his side, and he leaned into her.

  “While I was getting lucky in the woods, a boy fell to his death. If I’d stuck around, spent some time with him...”

  He looked away, his throat thick, as his chin trembled. The shame he’d been carrying for all these years was finally surfacing. He was embarrassed to look at Brooke. Embarrassed for her to see him now that she knew how deep his pathetic, cowardly, selfish ways ran.

  “If one of the other boys stuck around, they could have picked up the ladder for him so he wouldn’t have jumped. Is it their fault he died?”

  “God, no. I hope they don’t blame themselves. They were only eleven and twelve years old.”

  “Maybe it’s the Shermans’ fault for not installing better ladders?”

  “One highlight of hitting double digits was being allowed to sleep in the cabins with the lofts. They were safe and not all that high up. Ryan’s fall didn’t have to be fatal, but he’d hit his head on the game table he’d set up in the middle of the cabin.”

  “Like you said, it was an accident.”

  “That could have been prevented if I hadn’t been trying to get lucky in the woods.”

  “And it could have been prevented if Ryan went to the bonfire with the rest of the boys, or if one of them stayed back with him, or if he’d been in a different cabin. We can’t live our lives with what-ifs.”

  “Easier said than done.”

  “I know.” She kissed his shoulder and squeezed his thigh. “You were a handsome, hormonal, typical teenager who meant no harm on anyone, and who has been suffering from PTSD.”

  “PTSD?”

  “It’s not just for the military, you know. You’ve taken on the guilt of this boy’s death for too long. It has nothing to do with the camp or with you. It was an accident. You need to forgive yourself or you’ll never be able to move on.”

&n
bsp; “Maybe.” It was what Diane had said earlier today as well. Having her forgiveness, whether she realized that’s what she gave him, and Brooke’s support, helped heal the deep wound in his chest.

  “You’ve been living with the guilt for a long, long time. Because those boys will never see any more happiness in their lives, you don’t think you deserve to be happy, either.”

  “Where did you come up with that?” Relief washed over his body and he turned his head to look into her eyes. She wasn’t pacifying him. There was no disgust or disappointment in her soft, chocolate-colored eyes. Comfort, appreciation, and maybe, just maybe, a hint of something more.

  She picked up his hand and threaded her fingers through his. “Like I said, you’re an open book, Beckett.”

  They stayed like that for a while. In each other’s arms, her head on his shoulder, the breeze at their backs, their future in front of them.

  He didn’t want to let her go, not just yet, but at the same time, he didn’t want to ruin the forward progress they’d made.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way.” He shifted slightly, adjusting Brooke’s head on his shoulder. “Now that Westleigh is in custody and I know you’re safe and I know you can take care of yourself, my request still stands.”

  “It does?”

  “It does.” He kissed her temple. “I’ll admit, it’s once again purely selfish. I miss you and want to be near you, any and every way I can. The bottom level of the house is empty. It’s all yours. You can come and go as you please and I promise not to intrude on your privacy. I know the stubborn side of you wants to stay here at the camp, but it would make me feel better if you stayed with me. In the guest rooms.”

  Brooke slipped her hand free from his. “I don’t want to do that.”

  “Okay.” The frown on his heart was big, but he wouldn’t pressure her.

  “I don’t want to stay in your guest room.”

  Yeah, she’d said that already.

  Drew blinked, processing what she just said. Tilting away from her, he studied her expression. A blend of seriousness mixed with the familiar twinkle he hadn’t seen in over a week.

  “You don’t have to. If it’s okay with you, though, I’m going to come by here in the morning with breakfast. You don’t have a kitchen anymore and need to eat.”

  “I’m not down with that, either.” Brooke moved so she straddled him and wrapped her legs around behind him.

  She threw out more mixed signals than a drunk air traffic controller trying to land a 747.

  “Do you even have water or electricity? Anything you wa—”

  Brooke placed her finger over his lips and squirmed in his lap. “I don’t want to stay in your guest room. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to stay on the second floor. With you.”

  He studied her face again, making sure he heard her correctly. “That’s quite the one-eighty.”

  “Are you complaining?” That teasing smile pulled her lip up in a smirk.

  “Yesterday, this morning, I’m assuming, you had doubts about my involvement in the fire. You thought I could have played a hand in sabotaging your camp. And now you want to sleep with me? I just want to be sure.”

  “Well, I didn’t say anything about sleep.” Again, that teasing grin.

  “Brooke.” He didn’t want this to be about sex. What they had, what they could have was so much more.

  The light in her eyes dimmed a fraction and she placed her wrists on his shoulders, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

  “I’d think you’d know me by now. I’m fairly blunt, yet not necessarily great at expressing my feelings.”

  “I can’t say I’m the greatest, either.”

  “My heart told me you had nothing to do with it. I wanted to be angry at someone and you were there.” Brooke lowered her lashes and slumped her shoulders. “I’m sorry for even thinking you would do such a thing. You were too convenient, which is no excuse.”

  “Sweetheart,” he tipped her chin up with his fingers, “I don’t blame you. Let’s put this behind us and focus on our future. I’d like to have one... with you.” It felt natural saying those words to her.

  “Really?”

  This time the smile that erupted on her face was not teasing but one of pure joy. The same smile that spread across her face when he held her under the fireworks. The same brightness that shone when she played Go Fish with Vanessa and Toby and they told her she was super funny.

  “There’s nothing that would make me happier.” Leaning his head toward hers, he sipped at her lips and sighed in contentment when she scooted closer, molding herself to him.

  “That would make me happy, too.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  For three days, Brooke was busy from sunup to sundown meeting with the police, the arson detective, the local media, and her contractors.

  Being the headline story for the local paper and the five o’clock news brought a lot of attention to the camp. She prayed it would be for the good. That after learning about the programs, more businesses would pull together to donate their services or money.

  “I’m proud of you.” Drew came up behind her while she was flipping chicken on the grill and kissed her temple. “You sounded great on the news tonight.”

  “You caught it?” She’d been too busy working on cleaning up the mess at the camp and had missed it. “I’m hoping they air it again at eleven.”

  “I can do one better.” He took the tongs from her and set them down, turning off the grill and closing the lid. “The chicken will be fine for a few minutes.” He took her hand and led her inside.

  “It’s almost eight. You must be starving. The chicken is almost done.”

  “It’ll finish up while we watch.” He settled Brooke on the couch and picked up the remote. “I recorded it for you.”

  “You did?”

  Drew was always doing stuff like that—sweet gestures that told her he was thinking of her, especially when they barely saw each other during the day. Yesterday, it was adorably dorky selfies while he was sitting at his computer. This morning, he brought coffee and bagels to her and the crew, apologizing for not staying and running back to the house to write.

  He told her that after five days of losing his mojo, the words were back. Apparently, it was because of her, but she had her doubts. Drew needed to believe in himself. She had nothing to do with it.

  “I recorded the five-thirty and the six o’clock news as well. Sometimes they show different parts of the interview and I wanted to make sure I got all of them. The six o’clock is my favorite.”

  He dropped a kiss on her temple—he did that a lot—and handed her the remote.

  “I’ll finish dinner while you watch your interview, and then we can view them again after we eat.”

  She didn’t thank him or kiss him properly before he left. At this point she didn’t even care about the interview, all she wanted was Drew. Since it was already cued, she watched herself on television, which was definitely an odd experience.

  The journalist did a nice job capturing the view of the water and taking a slow pan of the grounds, pausing on the burnt building and the ashes of the closest cabin. Since they’d already covered the arson in another news bite, the focus of the two-minute clip had been on her vision for the summer camp and how community members could support the children.

  They switched back to the studio, and the anchors continued talking about Brooke, bringing up her twelve-year service in the army and mentioning her partners were also female soldiers. She’d told the reporter about Charlie, Fish, and Skye being her business partners. It was a nice news story, and the extra commentary from the anchors could bring in more donations.

  The thing she didn’t like exploiting was the military. Sure, she and her sisters had the idea of having a week dedicated to military children, but she hated using the army to bring in more money. Maybe it was just her? Money wasn’t a topic she enjoyed talking about, unless she was giving it away. Which was what she would do
with the camp, in a way. And it was why she appreciated Skye taking over the fundraising and marketing end of things.

  When she made her way through the three newscasts, she turned off the television and joined Drew out on the deck.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and rested her head on his back. “You’re the best.”

  “This is nice.” He clasped his hands over hers and twisted around in her arms so they were facing each other. “Whatever I did to deserve this, I’ll do it again and again.”

  Brooke kissed his lips and squeezed his butt cheeks. “Thank you for recording all the interviews.”

  “If I’d known I was going to get such a response, I would have joined you on the couch.”

  “If you had done that the chicken would have burned, and we wouldn’t be eating dinner.”

  “I turned the grill off. Dinner can always wait.” He kissed her slowly, taking his time with her mouth, his hands massaging her sides and sending all sorts of tingling sensations up her spine.

  Knowing he didn’t take care of himself, Brooke drew away in concern. “I bet you haven’t had a thing to eat all day.”

  “I brought you bagels this morning,” he said, pulling her tight against his body so her chest crushed into his.

  “And I bet you didn’t eat a single one,” she murmured into his mouth.

  “That’s a lot of betting.” Drew nipped at her lips and pinched her waist, making her jump with a giggle. “I can’t eat when I’m writing.”

  “Except for M&Ms.”

  “Right.”

  “Which is why you need a healthy meal tonight. Especially if you want to keep up your stamina.”

  They’d made love every night and every morning since he found her on the dock last week. Knowing she’d see him at the end of the day got her through the grueling, tedious work of cleaning up the rubble.

  Owen had said he and his team would take care of it, but she insisted on working side by side with her contractor. By the time the sun set each night, she was tired, dirty, and hungry, and eager to see Drew.

  “It’s you who keeps up my stamina, not a plate of chicken and potatoes.”