The Darkest Part (Living Heartwood #1)(82)

My heart is aching so badly I can’t hold back the tears. I drop my head in my hands and have to release them. I feel Holden’s arm around me, then cradling me to his chest. Like at the funeral, I feel ashamed. I should be comforting him, not the other way around. Inhaling deeply, I breathe in his strong, masculine scent. “I’m sorry,” I say.

“I just unloaded a shit ton of f*cked up on you,” he says. “I’m surprised you haven’t bolted from the room.”

My head whips up. “Why would I do that?” Whatever’s happened, Holden has only tried to do what he thought was right and help his brother. He just needed help himself.

“Because it’s my fault you don’t have Tyler now,” he says, and the sincerity in his voice and eyes scare me. He truly believes it’s his fault. “Tyler walked out in front of that car on purpose. He couldn’t live with the guilt anymore.”

“It’s not your fault. And Tyler didn’t kill himself.”

He runs his thumb over my cheek, clearing away the tears, as his hand palms my face. “I’m f*cked up. Been f*cked up for a long time. And if I wasn’t so f*cked up, I would’ve known the right things to do to help him.” He bows his head. “Keeping Tyler’s suicide a secret is all I can do for him now. I can’t let everything he was in life be ruined like that.”

And realization dawns. That day in Talladega. Why Holden was so upset that I knew about their dad. He was afraid I also knew about Tyler’s suicide attempt, and that I’d tell someone. That they’d put the clues together, and then Tyler’s perfect memory would be disgraced. Their father, I’m sure, would do something horrible to make sure of that. I don’t know what, but the man is psychotic. He’s the one who should be found at fault. For everything.

Placing my hands on Holden’s face, I kiss him. Soft. Gentle. Letting him feel my love, and hopefully, comforting him. Pulling back, I say, “You’ve carried this guilt around for too long. It’s time to find out the truth.”

His eyebrows pull together. I place a quick kiss on his lips before I stand and go to the dresser where I take one of my pills. Then turning toward him, I say, “I’ve let Tyler go. Now you have to.” I point to the journal sitting next to Holden on the bed. “It’s the only way you’ll know for sure. Read it.”

A flash of terror crosses his face. He’s owned this guilt for a long time. I know releasing it won’t be easy. But he has to. I watch as he works up the courage to pick up the journal, then flip to the last entry Tyler made before he died.

I have to trust that, just like Holden believes beyond a shadow of a doubt Tyler is in a good place, the boy I’ve known forever didn’t bow out of life. Didn’t walk away from everyone who loved him. Didn’t leave us behind to suffer his loss on purpose.

Tyler hid things from me . . . was suffering from things I didn’t know and he felt I wouldn’t understand. Or maybe he was trying to shield me from that part of his life. In his mind, trying to protect me. I don’t know. But he needed help. He didn’t get it, and his actions from one night hurt so many lives . . . lives he cared about.

But he did not do it on purpose. It was a horrible accident.

I feel it in my heart. It’s the one truth I’m clinging to. It’s what I believe beyond a shadow of a doubt.

And when Holden looks up at me, his face is strained and tears fill his eyes. “I don’t think . . .” He chokes on his words, then, “He didn’t do it. He didn’t kill himself.”

I rush over and hug him hard. His arms circle me, and I feel the tension in his body give way to relief as he trembles. Holden can work through his guilt. He can let it go, and we both can find a path out of the darkness that’s trapped us.

Holden’s lips find mine, and he kisses me with the hope thrumming through him. I kiss him back, my hands on his chest, feeling his heart pounding against my palms.

He rests his forehead against mine, inhaling a shaky breath. “I need to call the cops,” he says. “And we have to cut our trip short.” He pulls back to look into my eyes. “I know you were determined to finish this for Tyler, but—”

“We are finishing this for Tyler,” I say. “Right now.”





Holden

I make the call to the Beaufort County Sherriff’s Office. We’ll have to leave soon to bring them the pages in the notebook. They’re now evidence.

If Sam wasn’t here, centering me, I’d probably hop in my truck and break every posted speed limit back to the island to find the f*cker who hit Tyler myself. Maybe even kill him. I know I’d at least beat him to within an inch of his life. But my emotions are running too high. Those f*cking emotions, dammit. They’ve been climbing for nearly an hour while I’ve poured my screwed up life out to Sam. Now, I just feel drained.

Relieved. But drained.

After reading Tyler’s words again, I still can’t believe I never thought of it. The redhead’s boyfriend. I didn’t even know she had one—didn’t think of her one way or the other. But she’d told her boyfriend—James—about her getting with Tyler at the bar, and James had been threatening Tyler.

He never told me. Why didn’t he tell me?

Maybe because he was too ashamed to admit he’d actually slept with her. I’m sure he didn’t want to tell me, knowing I’d try to make him fess up to Sam. But hell. In a disgusting bar bathroom? And now, Sam knows anyway.