by K. R. Reese
“Head up to bed. I’ll get rid of them.”
She stands and turns to go up the stairs, but I grab her wrist and stop her. “I’ll be up in a minute. You’re not staying alone tonight.”
Cheyenne doesn’t say anything, just stares into my eyes. Finally, she nods, and I release her wrist.
After I’ve ushered everyone out of the house with thanks and that Cheyenne just wanted time to herself, I clean up what I can and put all the food away. Before I go in search of her, I grab two cups and the few bottles of alcohol I can find.
Cheyenne doesn’t really drink. Neither do I. But I think tonight calls for alcohol and no one would blame us.
I enter the bedroom without knocking and find Cheyenne sitting silently on the edge, staring at the wall.
“Everyone’s gone.” She meets my gaze. I hold the bottles up and she arches a brow. “I figured we could use this. You up for it?”
“If it makes today disappear for a while, absolutely, though I’ll regret it in the morning.”
I sit beside her and hand her a cup. “We’ll both regret it in the morning.”
I pour a generous amount of vodka in both our glasses before I place the bottle on the floor. I hold mine in the air. “This is to Dylan. The best friend. The best brother. The best husband. We’re going to miss you, bud.” I push the knot down and gulp the contents of my cup as Cheyenne does the same.
“Mason called today; he got stuck in Germany. He should be here in two days or so.”
I nod because that’s all I can do. I already knew this information, but I’m not sure that Cheyenne knows I’m the one who got word to his command or not. If she does, she hasn’t brought it up.
“Since he was so close to his deployment ending, he’s got a month of leave. Then he’ll have to go home. I don’t know where I’m going.”
Her words trigger fear like I’ve never known. I almost drop my cup I just refilled.
“I have to leave in six months. I can’t live on base now that Dylan’s…well, you know how this goes.”
“I know. It sucks, but we’ll find you somewhere close. There has to be apartments or houses for rent.”
Cheyenne gulps the rest of her cup and hands it back to me for a refill. “I think I’m going to go home. Mom said they have room, and since they couldn’t be here, I think that’s the best place for me to be right now. I’d have to rent a storage unit, obviously, but I can do it.”
I gulp and take a deep breath. The thought that Cheyenne won’t be close by steals my breath. But I know she’s right. I could leave at a moment’s notice, then she would be here by herself. I would rather she be surrounded by family than anything else, but I need to step back and evaluate what’s going on right now.
“When Mace gets here, I’ll have to leave for a bit. There’s some things I have to do.” The silence that engulfs the room could freeze the hottest places around.
I glance at Cheyenne and notice the fear in her eyes. “I’m not deploying, Chey, I promise. But I do still have a job to do here, and I’m not given leave since I’m not related.”
The tension eases around her eyes and I’m grateful I could ease her burden momentarily. “Just stay in contact, Cole. I may not be here anymore, but you’re still my best friend.”
I hold my cup up again and she clinks hers against it. “Let’s forget about all this for a bit. What do you say?”
A smile takes over her face and it’s the first real smile I’ve seen in what feels like ever. “That sounds like a great idea right now because my mind is running a mile a minute.”
I refill our cups again, but before I take a sip I ask, “Mason has a key to your house, right? If he gets here too early, I’m not sure if I’ll be capable of answering that door.”
Cheyenne snorts and gulps her cup again. “He has a key.”
No further information needed; we both get as drunk as we want before we pass out.
I needed an escape. The sympathetic looks and quiet whispers drove me crazy. They’ve been happening for so long now, that normally I can ignore them. But I can’t anymore, it’s been long enough. That’s why I’m driving four hours to the one place I haven’t set foot in in three years. The one place Dylan loved more than home.
When he was killed on his last tour of duty in Afghanistan, I hadn’t wanted to drive up here. At the time, I would have taken smothering over loneliness any day. That wasn’t true now.
Brookdell is still the same quaint little town I remember that sits at the edge of the mountains. There are several cabins owned up here as vacation homes, and that’s where I’m headed. Dylan and Cole purchased the cabin from family friends; it was a break from reality whenever they wanted to get away and relax. I had only been here twice: the day we graduated and the day of our wedding.
I’m not sure why I decided to come. It was a last-minute decision; one I had talked myself out of before. To love someone despite their inability to love us back may be selfless, but it also leaves us vulnerable. Defenseless.
I know Dylan loved me, even when we fought or didn’t get along. There’s never been a question in my mind about his feelings toward me. Now, he’s unable to communicate that, though, and it eats away at me every day.
My phone’s ringtone pulls me from my thoughts. I’ve been avoiding everyone’s calls and text messages for days in preparation for this trip. The screen flashes with Mason’s name and I know I can’t ignore it.
“Hey, Mace,” I sigh when I answer.
“Chey, what’re you doing? I’ve been running damage control since mom found the note you left. But I can’t keep her from following you anymore.”
I knew he wasn’t lying; our mother was protective, and more so since Dylan’s death. But I didn’t want her coming to Brookdell; I didn’t want comfort. I didn’t want to feel crowded.
“Just keep her there. I need this. I need space.” The silence on the other end was deafening. “Mace, what’s going on?”
“I-I…Fuck, Chey, I didn’t want to do this over the phone, but you didn’t really give me a choice. I’m shipping out in a month. Are you sure mom can’t come with you?”
Tears prickled at the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Mason had been deployed when Dylan was killed. He came home shortly after and hasn’t been sent out since. That was four years ago. I didn’t want to think about what could happen. I could always remember it like it was yesterday.
“Ma’am, we’re looking for Cheyenne Cross?” The first sentence I heard when I opened my door to two officers on my doorstep.
“Can we please come in, Ma’am?” Another question, no information.
I shut the door in their face and called Cole. He held me up when no one else could have.
“Cheyenne, are you even listening to me?” Mason’s voice breaks through my memory.
“Sorry, Mace, I got lost in thought. What did you say?”
I hear the shuffling of the phone and the sigh from his end. “You can’t escape, Chey, especially not there. You’re leading yourself to more pain and heartache than you’ve already suffered. How long has it been since you’ve been up there?”
“Our wedding,” I whisper. “I haven’t been here, Mace. That’s why I need to. Maybe it’ll give me some sort of closure. I don’t know.”
Mason’s silent a beat before he speaks again. “I’ve avoided deployments and missions since Dylan’s death, Chey. But I can’t anymore. This is my job. Are you sure mom can’t come up and be with you? I know you’re going to sit and worry every time you don’t hear from me.”
I know he’s right. I feared Mason getting deployed since it had taken Dylan from me. but I didn’t want my mother to come and suffocate me either. I would be fine. I could do this. I had to.
When Mason disconnects the call, I release the breath I’d been holding. My entire reason for being in Brookdell was also the reason I was trying to escape.
Dylan isn’t coming home. He was never coming back, and I was forced to accept that rea
lity every day.
A stray tear leaks down my cheek, but I swipe it away. Crying wouldn’t change anything, and I had done enough of it to last a lifetime.
Driving the familiar path through town to the cabin at the top of the hill, I barely make out a car parked in the driveway.
“There’s no way,” I mumble to myself. But when I pull to stop, Cole’s standing on the porch staring through my windshield. We had all been close before Dylan’s death, but I haven’t seen him in four years. As far as I knew, he came to the cabin to check on things, but that might be a stretch if he’s still in the Army and could be deployed at any time.
Mason’s leaving in a month.
I didn’t want to think about that. I want to settle in, get some sleep, and start fresh tomorrow. Everything is telling me to put the car in reverse and drive away. Instead, I don’t move an inch as I watch Cole.
We were best friends, and then he disappeared. I know I wasn’t in the best state of mind, but that’s when I needed him most. Why I needed him.
Ignoring the whispering of my subconscious, I narrow my eyes at Cole. As much as I remind myself, he abandoned me, it doesn’t stop me from thinking about him.
I don’t hate him. Not in the way I should. But I can’t figure out why the hell not.
My chest constricts when he begins to walk toward my car. I hate the conflicting ramblings of my mind that are somewhere between disgust and attraction.
There’s always been a charm about him that’s intoxicating if you allow yourself. Anxiety niggles away at me, making me fidget. I refuse to squirm under the scrutiny of his gaze.
A knock at my window causes me to yelp. I open my door and stand in front of the one person who has seen me completely fall apart.
I watch as she climbs out of her car and folds her arms across her chest. “I guess I should have called first. I didn’t know you would be here.” Cheyenne’s voice is barely above a whisper as she glares up at me as my boots stop almost on top of her tennis shoes.
I run my hands through my hair and look out over the mountains at the back of the cabin. “Yeah, well, that makes two of us. I didn’t know I’d be here either, but here I am.”
She shifts awkwardly and takes a deep breath. “Listen, Cole, I can turn around and go home. I should have called. I don’t want to take up your space…” My hand covers her mouth before she can finish her sentence.
I lean in closer, Cheyenne’s coconut shampoo assaulting my senses. My body betrays me, and I lean further for a moment. I didn’t want her to see the reaction she caused so I pull away. “Please don’t do that, Chey. You can’t keep running away. The past will always catch up to you, I promise.”
“Now, you sound just like Mason.” Her eyes narrow slightly.
I sigh, but don’t look away. “I hadn’t planned on being here. Mason called me this morning and I didn’t even think about it. I’ll take your things inside. I don’t want to hear anymore about you leaving, hear me?”
Cheyenne glares again and slams her hands on my chest. She attempts to force me away, but my body doesn’t flinch at the attack. My muscles tense against her palms.
Chuckling, I look down at her fingers splayed across me. She sags in response, hating herself for having any reaction to me at all anymore. Her hands drop to her sides like the mere touch hurts. I trace my eyes over her face and my brow drops. I take a step back. She sighs in relief. There are a storm of emotions churning my insides, leaving me muddled.
“I’ll grab your things,” I mumble.
She gives me a slight nod and I go to the trunk. Cheyenne is still frozen to her spot. I didn’t do serious; I was the joker, the one to put people at ease in a stressful situation. The one time I had been serious in all the years we’ve known each other; I had watched her completely fall apart.
Our memories flash through my mind momentarily. I had enlisted in the Army with Dylan months before high school graduation. Cheyenne had watched us both leave for training. The first time we came home, Dylan proposed, and their wedding happened a few weeks later. It was a fast engagement, but it gave Cheyenne the ability to move to base with us.
I hadn’t wanted to live with the newlyweds. I couldn’t live with them. I had harbored feelings for Cheyenne all through school, even acted on them a few times. But once Dylan started pining after her, I backed off. After we moved, the following years had been scattered with deployments. We both had to say goodbye to Cheyenne over and over. Then, Dylan was deployed alone, and left me with his parting words. “Take care of her, Cole. She’s going to need you if…” I hadn’t let Dylan finish his sentence because there weren’t any ifs. My best friend was supposed to come home. Cheyenne’s husband was supposed to come home. But he didn’t.
Since I had left to get some clothes, Cheyenne called me when officers showed up at her door and my stomach had dropped. I didn’t believe it until I found them standing on her porch five minutes later. I had stayed the days up to the funeral. Mason had been deployed at the time but was due home any day. The rest of Cheyenne’s family couldn’t travel, so I was all she had.
The night of the funeral, we got rip-roaring drunk until we passed out. Before Cheyenne woke the next morning, Mason had made it home and I planned to disappear. Plans changed.
I’ll never forget when Mason called me a few weeks later. Cheyenne had moved home, but she was spiraling and wouldn’t listen to any of them. Hanging out with the wrong crowds. Drinking too much. I hadn’t wanted to know what else. I had made a promise to Dylan, though, so I flew back.
Spiraling was a light term for what Cheyenne had been doing. Alcohol. Drugs. Meaningless hook-ups. She was falling apart in front of my eyes and I hadn’t known how to stop it. I had all but moved into her apartment and she couldn’t hide anything from me. Thank God I had.
Finally, I had come back from my morning run and it was quiet. Cheyenne had been awake when I left and when she didn’t answer me, I knew something was wrong. I had found her in the bathroom, unconscious on the floor. I dialed 911 and performed CPR until paramedics arrived.
Cheyenne had tried to overdose. What she failed to realize was that an anxiety prescription wasn’t the right choice of drug. She was kept on a seventy-two-hour watch before they let her go home. I stayed by her side all day and night, refusing to let her try again. Then I got a phone call. I was being shipped out and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to change it. Mason got her into a counseling and rehab facility not too far away before I left. Our final goodbye would be our last. Until now.
That’s why I didn’t understand what had me running to the cabin the moment Mason called. Somehow, I knew she was going to need me, and I acted without thinking.
I know she’s following close behind me, her footsteps giving her away. A part of my job is to know my surroundings, hear what I’m walking into, or away from. Once we’re inside the door, I hear the barely audible gasp for air and drop her bags to the floor.
When I turn toward her, her eyes are closed, and she doesn’t look like she’s breathing.
I step into her space, pulling her against my chest. “Breathe, Chey,” I whisper into her hair.
I only have a few memories from the place. We hadn’t had time to come back between his deployments and life. But his presence is everywhere. In the furniture. The colors. Even the pictures scattered around.
Cole has me pressed against his chest before I blink away the rapid-fire panic settling in.
“Breathe, Chey,” he whispers near my ear.
I release the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Walking through the door and seeing all the things that quickly reminded me of Dylan overwhelmed me. When I was forced to move off base, I had packed all our shared belongings into a storage unit and never looked back. That’s where they still were.
Cole pulls away, holding me at arm’s length. His dark eyes are staring down at me, waiting for confirmation that I’ll be okay if he lets me go.
“You haven’t changed anything,” I croa
k the words, my voice lodged in my throat.
He shakes his head and proceeds into the living room, plopping himself in the middle of the couch. “I haven’t been here. I hire a cleaning company to come keep it clean once a month. But that’s all the life this cabin’s seen in years.”
Cole cringes at his choice of words, but I ignore them. It’s hard to believe he hasn’t come here to relax. They loved this cabin, always talked about it. He must see the confusion written all over my face because he speaks up.
“It’s too hard to be here. There are too many memories here. Dylan’s in all of them. While I might escape the past easily for my job, it’s a lot harder when you’re alone with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company.”
I look away, fighting the tears that have threatened to break free since I stepped foot over the threshold.
“You can’t run away,” I whisper the words and let them hang in the silence.
The words are true, I’ve lived it, but it makes it clearer than ever. Something I should have realized four years ago. I’m not the only one suffering. Cole and Dylan were my rocks when we were younger. When Dylan was killed, I didn’t think how it would affect Cole; I only thought of myself. Look where that got me.
I push the dark thoughts away for another time and focus on Cole. I slide on the couch beside him, our arms barely making contact.
“I want to say I’m sorry,” I finally meet his gaze, a question in their depths. “After the funeral, I fell apart. For months afterward. I never stopped to think that you had no one either. I never thought that you might have needed a friend for support. I was too wrapped in my own head. So, I’m sorry for that; Dylan would have wanted us to take care of each other.”
Cole’s gaze grows darker the longer I talk. The color of his eyes has disappeared behind his pupils, nostrils flaring. Had I said something wrong? I don’t understand his anger before he pulls me against his chest.