The Darkest Part (Living Heartwood #1)(61)

With my heart beating in my ears, I finally take that backward step. And then another. And another, until I’m in the hallway and my back hits the wall.

No way in hell am I going to listen to her breaking up with my dead brother. There are some things I don’t need to hear—to have on my conscience. Wait—is she breaking up? It sounds like the makings of a breakup speech. But maybe she’s just working out whatever she needs to in her mind to really let him go.

If she’s unable to accept his death, maybe this is the next logical step for her. Like she needs to first end their relationship or some shit before she can move on. It seems messed up. But I won’t even pretend to know how it works. I just hope it’s not f*cking her mind up more.

But, her words . . . shit. She said she loved me. Past tense. Back then, but still. I don’t know what to do with that, other than be the selfish ass that I am and revel in the fact that maybe—if she felt that strongly before—I might have a chance at fixing what’s broken between us now.

I thump the back of my head against the wall.

Am I really this warped? As if the torture I’ve been putting myself through this entire trip isn’t enough, I’m practically begging for the full, crushing heartache.

A splash calls my attention. And then Sam cries out, her scream becoming garbled.

I take off toward the enclosed poor area. “Sam!” The frantic splashing sound stops before I reach the edge of the pool. Sam’s scream is gone. My chest heaves as I scan the pool, my eyes searching the rippling water. My sight locks on to her body in the deep end.

“Shit—” I don’t think; I dive. My hands go up over my head and I jump off the cemented ledge.

I feel the shallow end first and I push off, propelling myself through the water. The chlorine stings my eyes, but I keep them open and spot her thrashing body easily, targeting her black bikini. Swimming up to her, I circle an arm around her waist, then kick off the bottom.

I break the surface of the water with a gasp, and turn her around in my arms to face me. She’s sputtering, coughing, but breathing.

As I tread water, I keep her body close to mine. “Are you okay? What happened?”

She clears the tangles of hair from her face, and her bright eyes look around. “It wasn’t his fault,” she says, anxiety lacing her voice. “He didn’t mean to.”

Spitting a curse, I anchor her back against my chest and then swim us toward the deep end ladder. When my feet touch the bottom rung, I grasp the metal and help her to do the same, supporting her until she’s stable.

Clasping the back of her neck, I bring her closer, forcing her to look into my eyes. “What are you talking about?” Each word comes out slow and deliberate. And I’m begging God for her to answer in any way other than what I suspect.

She coughs out the rest of the water in her chest and shakes her head. “I can’t, Holden.” Her eyes well, liquid other than pool water shimmering on their surface. My chest constricts.

“Tell me,” I say, my voice gravely. “I won’t say anything asinine. I promise.”

This must convince her, or maybe it’s the resolve in my voice. Or whatever my face is betraying of the emotions pummeling me. But she jerkily nods as she bites her lip.

“He came back,” she says. “I think everything . . . you being around, me away from home . . . has been making it more difficult for Tyler to manifest.” That word triggers something dark inside me. I don’t like it. “But he finally did, and I—we needed to talk.” Shame flashes in her eyes before she looks away. “We argued. He became angry. And somehow when he vanished, it was like he was being sucked into a black hole.” She shivers, and without thought, I run my hand along her arm. “This blackness reached out and pulled me under. But it wasn’t him. He didn’t do it.” Her eyes enlarge, pleading. “He wasn’t trying to hurt me. It was just something that happened.” Her eyes go wide. “Oh, God, what if he’s really gone this time. There was so much blackness . . .”

Taking measured breaths, I get my body under control, but my mind is loud and turbulent. My heart bangs painfully against my chest as I hold her gaze. I won’t look away and make her think I doubt her. But shit. This is going too far. No matter what she’s struggling with inside, I can’t let her hurt herself. She believes she’s not doing any of it. But she’s doing all of it.

And what happens next? When it’s time for Sam to say goodbye to my brother—when we’re leaving our last destination—and she cracks. Will she throw herself off a bridge? Will she slit her wrist, claiming Tyler’s manifested spirit made her do it? She’s slipping further and further away. From reality. From sanity.

From me.

And I just got her back.

No f*cking way.

I inhale a deep, stinging breath before I say, “Come on.”

Her brows pull together, but she nods. “Okay. And thanks.” She smiles hesitantly. “For pulling me out.”

Returning her smile with a tight one of my own, I don’t explain anything as I climb the ladder and then turn to help her out. I don’t say another word as I grab her towel and wrap it around her shoulders, securing it in the middle, while my soaking clothes weigh heavily on my body. My mind is reeling. And when I lead us to the elevator, receiving curious glances from the hotel staff, I just hit the button for our floor.