Lead Me Home (Fight for Me #3)(100)

It echoed on the night.

Resounding.

A boomerang.

It bounced back, slamming into me, adding to the turmoil that sieged every cell in my body.

Hands shaking, I fumbled into my purse and pulled out my phone, barely able to make the call.

Sammie answered on the first ring. “Are you okay?”

I could hardly speak. “No. I’m not okay.”

“Where are you?”

“At the back of Olive’s,” I begged through another cry.

“Stay right there. I’ll be there to get you in five minutes.”

“Okay.”

I ended the call and hugged my arms across my chest, tears streaking free.

There was no way to stop them.

Solid ground had finally been ripped from beneath our feet.

My heart shattered, pieces scattered.

Verification that we’d lost Sydney in this horrible, horrible way crumbled the last of our foundation.

I guessed it’d been flimsy and unstable, anyway.

But now it was Ollie who was lost beneath the rubble.

Unable to see his way out of it.

Unable to see past what he thought was a failure.

And he’d broken my heart all over again while mine broke for him.

I wanted to hold him and make promises I couldn’t keep.

That one day it wouldn’t hurt so bad.

But I knew that would only be a lie.

Headlights cut into the back-alley road, and Sammie’s car came to a stop in front of me.

The front passenger door flew open, and Sammie jumped out, her husband Lyle in the driver’s seat.

I collapsed in her arms and wept.

“I’ve got you, Nikki. It’s going to be okay.”

I nodded against her, even though I couldn’t bring myself to believe it was true.

Finally, I pried myself away and climbed into the backseat with Penelope, took the little girl’s hand, clinging to the comfort she brought.

Looking at her had always made me feel as if the world could be a better place.

I just wished I could still believe that as the truth.

They swung by where I’d left my car outside the building, and Lyle took my keys and said he’d meet us back at the house, doing what he could to lighten some of the load.

As if I’d give my car a second thought.

But he’d always been a doer, and I understood the feeling of being helpless, desperate to find something to do.

Sammie moved into the driver’s seat.

I stayed stagnant in the backseat, silent tears running down my face.

They didn’t stop or slow when we went inside.

Choked sobs erupted at unexpected times, as if the sorrow would bottle and pressurize and then burst to do it all over again.

Sammie made me a spot on the couch to sleep, and I hugged the blankets around my body as it if might offer comfort.

“Do you want me to sit with you?” Sammie finally asked, fidgeting, her house quiet in the dark hours of the night.

“No, you go on to bed and get some rest. There’s nothing you can do.”

I needed to be alone.

To process.

To grieve.

She wavered as if she was going to stay anyway. “I want to be here for you, too,” she whispered, as if she were trying to cross a bridge.

My eyes blinked open to her.

Bleary and blurry.

Burning from the tears.

Something passed through her expression.

“I know that. Thank you.”

She nodded quickly and then ducked her head down the hall, shutting off the last light and casting the entire house in a dreary darkness.

I didn’t toss.

I just laid there.

Frozen in the silence.

Tied by sorrow.

Cutting, blinding grief.

I’d felt as if I’d lost both of them all over again.

As if I was taken back to the day when my world went dim.

Because Ollie . . .

He’d always been my great big world.

Finally, I drifted on it, exhaustion taking hold of my consciousness. Horrible dreams just raced in to take its place.

My eyes popped open, a fresh sob on my breath, night still all around me. Disoriented, I blinked through it. I jerked my head when I felt the presence at my side.

“Sammie,” I gasped, my eyes going wide when I found my sister sitting on the floor next to me, her knees tucked to her chest as she rocked.

Even in the darkness, I could see the shimmer of tears that stained her cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered fiercely, shooting up to sitting, the worry for her chasing away the weight that wanted to pin me down. “What happened?”

Shivers of pain radiated from her.

“I went to that meetin’ last night, thinking I was going to be able to talk to you.”

Oh God.

My heart raced.

Banged at my ribs.

“And I’m so sorry this is comin’ now . . . when you’re going through so much. I just don’t think I can keep it inside anymore. Everything feels wrong.”

I knew this was her way of opening a door.

Breaching a divide.

Inviting me inside.

I wanted to be there. For her.

Even though I was terrified I might not be strong enough to handle anything else. If my emotions might get the better of me.