Side Trip(82)

“Something’s broken,” she cried out, tearing up.

“Go, keep going,” Judy urged.

Panting, sweating, shaking, Joy dropped into the back seat. After a brief struggle with the latch, Joy buckled herself in.

“Never tell. Promise me,” Judy said, her voice noticeably weaker.

Joy struggled to keep her eyes open.

“Promise me you’ll never tell. Promise!” Judy ordered. Then she whimpered like an injured animal.

“Promise,” Joy whispered, drifting off to sleep.

Had she fought to stay awake, had she remained in the driver’s seat and taken responsibility for her actions, she might have noticed the piece of glass that had punctured Judy’s abdomen. She might have realized that her sister was slowly dying. But Joy hadn’t done a thing, and she’d been punishing herself ever since.



“You pegged me from the start, Dylan. I’ve been wearing vintage clothes like Judy did and listening to her favorite music. I wanted to experience this trip as she would have, since she can’t. She’s dead because of me.”

Dylan stared at her. He hadn’t spoken a word in quite some time, making her feel more uneasy than she already was.

“Say something,” she whispered with urgency.

Dylan snapped out of his stupor. His eyes softened and he grasped her wrist. “You’re not at fault.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.” He held her hand against his racing heart. “Feel that? That’s fear. I was so scared for you. But Judy? What the hell? How could she ask you to drive? You were thirteen, for Chrissake.”

“But I’m the one who lifted the spare keys and stowed away in her car. I’m the one who nagged her to get me home. I knew I shouldn’t drive, but I did. I know there isn’t anything I can do about it now, but it hasn’t stopped me from thinking about all the things I should have done differently.”

“She never should have sworn you to keep it secret.”

Tears spilled down Joy’s face. “She was trying to protect me.” Joy had done her research. She would have paid fees in the thousands. She could have spent time in juvenile hall. She probably wouldn’t have been eligible to receive her license until just last year. Thank God it was just her and Judy. Had she killed anyone else and the authorities discovered Joy had been driving, her parents could have been sued for involuntary manslaughter. Joy could only imagine what her punishment would have been had her parents learned she’d been driving. Judy must have known this, which was why she’d insisted on taking the blame.

“I know, Joy. But you were a kid. She was eighteen, the adult. She asked too much of you.”

“I wanted to tell everyone how sorry I was, and I couldn’t say anything. I’d promised Judy and I was too afraid. I still am.” Her parents would never forgive her. She wouldn’t have just lost Judy. She’d lose everyone else that she loved.

“Come here.” Dylan tugged her hand.

She climbed onto his lap, straddling his thighs, and collapsed against his chest. She hugged his shoulders and cried.

“I get it now, Joy. You’ll never have to ask me again to buckle my seat belt.” Dylan soothed her, rubbing her back. He laid his cheek on her head and held her.

Joy released a long, pent-up breath she felt like she’d been holding for eight years.

“You never told anyone you were behind the wheel?” he asked after a moment.

Joy shook her head.

“Not even your parents?”

She shook her head again.

“Jesus.” He hugged her tightly. “You don’t have to carry this burden alone anymore. I’ve got you.”

She cried harder. She was never the same after the accident. How could she be? She’d spent so much time alone. But for the first time in years she didn’t feel so alone.

“Thank you,” she whispered with a kiss to the side of his neck.

“One more thing.”

His tone was serious, setting a nervous flutter to spin around her stomach. She lifted her head so that she could look at him. “What?”

“No more what-ifs. You’ll drive yourself mad. There isn’t a thing you can do to change the past. But if you don’t stop rehashing it, you’ll never move on. For all her stupid decisions that night, I bet Judy loved you very much.”

“I loved her very much, too. Still do.”

“I know you do. But she would have wanted you to live your best life. Not hers.”

Joy would, as soon as she worked her way through Judy’s lists. She owed it to Judy to honor her sister’s memory.

Joy cradled his face and kissed him. She poured her gratitude and fear into the kiss. He kissed her back and, within seconds, the kiss grew hot and demanding. She kissed his jaw and dragged her lips down his neck. She bit his collarbone, he groaned, and she didn’t stop to think, about where they were or who could see. She pulled up the seat latch. Dylan fell back with a grunt and she toppled with him. She fumbled with his fly and he was right there with her, lifting his hips and helping her yank down his jeans and boxer briefs.

Dylan shoved her skirt to her waist and tugged aside her panties. He thrust up inside the same instant she came down on him. They gasped, and then she rode him, hard.

She wasn’t quiet, and she wasn’t gentle as she worked out eight years of guilt and shame from a tragedy that she still believed was of her making. And Dylan took it all, everything she gave.