Beach Side Beds and Sandy Paths (20 page)

My legs have been shaking for about a half hour, and the muscles in my calves are screaming. I keep waiting to hear a car pass by, but it’s been dead quiet
—minus my phone ringing every few minutes.

I want to sit, but the one time I tried to move I nearly fell off this miniscule ledge. My ass is sore from clenching it for probably an hour straight.

Something whooshes up top, and I try to use my voice but I only end up coughing. A car door slams, and things start swimming in my stomach.

“Ah, shit.”

My throat locks up. Did I hear that? I’m getting a little dizzy and pretty sure I’m hallucinating.

“Hello?” I croak, and the sound probably only goes about two inches in front of my mouth. Whoever’s by the Lincoln doesn’t hear a thing, or they’re ignoring me, or maybe they aren’t even there
, and I’ve lost my damn mind.

A hard
thunk
lands on what I think is rubber. Then a “Shiiiiit!” echoes around the mountainside.

My eyes shoot open, and I force my body to stay calm so I don’t leap off the edge. My heart thuds through my ears
, and I look up at the darkening sky, hoping a face or feet or something comes into view.

The ringtone on my phone goes off again. The dirt shuffles overhead and I hear, “Damn it,” and I know that voice.

“Brett?”

Nothing.

“Brett!” I try again, but still nothing. All I’m hearing is heavy breaths, and at first I thought they were mine, but I’m not breathing at all.

A string of swears
break over the edge, and my legs start shaking again, the muscles in my arms tight as I reach up.

“Brett!” I shout into the rock, but my voice isn’t loud enough. My breath matches his up top, and I can’t stop the panic running through my body
, prickling to the back of my eyes. “Come on…” I growl.

Incoherent mumbling topples from the ledge, and I hold my breath so I can catch what he’s saying. It’s
a lot more cussing, and I definitely catch, “Damn it, why are you so stupid?”

I let out another shout on my exhale. “Brett!”

His mumbling stops mid-sentence. Dirt shuffles around again. “Ryan?” Something scrapes against metal, then his voice rises. “Ryan!”

My stomach jerks
, and I take another deep breath before yelling again. “Look down!”

It feels like it takes a lifetime for his head to peer over the side. Relief passes through my gut as his red and swollen eyes pop wide and he gets down on his knees.
His arm swings down for mine without another word.

I’m gonna have to jump, and that thought alone makes the panic shoot straight back to my stomach.
One quick glance over my shoulder to the narrow ledge, and then I give Brett a raised eyebrow.

“I won’t drop you.” He tries to smirk, but it seems off. His eyes keep flicking to the far drop below my feet. “
I can bench two-oh-five.”

I laugh, dust blowing from my mouth. “Bullshit.”

“Two-hundred then.” He laughs too, but I can see the panic in his face and the wetness on his cheeks. “And I’ve seen you do a pull-up.”

“Yeah.” I gulp and squeeze my eyes shut. “I think this is a little different.”

Brett sniffs and coughs, and I peek up at him again so I don’t get a case of vertigo. His bloodshot eyes narrow. “I won’t drop you,” he repeats, and slides a little more over the edge. His other arm comes down, and I know right then it’s not just my ass that could go tumbling down this mountain.

“You stable up there?” I ask. “I don’t want to pull you off.”

He wiggles a bit, but then shakes his head and pushes himself even closer to me. “I’m fine.” Sweat drips from his brow, and it lands on my hand. “Now jump, damn it.”

I don’t know why I’m still hesitant. If I’m more worried about myself or him, but I can’t seem to move. My legs stick to the ledge, and I shake my head. “Just call someone,” I grunt.

“You’re not gonna make it another two minutes. I can see your feet. I don’t know how the hell you’re holding on now.” He clears his throat, voice catching at the end of his sentences. My brow furrows deep, and I look up into the face of my brother as he says, “Please, man. I’m not leaving without you.”

All my muscles constrict, but it’s not near the tightness on my lungs. I take deep breaths to push through it, counting to ten before I give one sharp nod at Brett.

“Okay, I’m gonna jump on three.”

He nods, and I watch the strain in his neck as he braces himself.

“One…” I pant, shifting my weight to the balls of my feet. “Two…” My knees bend as much as they can, scraping against the rocky wall of the mountain. I inhale deep and hold, then let out, “Three!”

I manage to jump high enough to grab onto Brett’s forearms. He grasps onto mine and his veins pop under my fingers. I pull up with all my strength, which honestly isn’t enough
, so I wiggle for some sort of foothold. I’m sweaty and dehydrated and completely weak, and I feel my grip slipping, but Brett’s isn’t. While my fingers slide and grapple over his arms, his stick to mine like glue, and he screams as he pulls me up, centimeter by centimeter.

My body wants to give out, but if I do that, we’re both going over. Brett’s pinched shut eyes snap open as I
lift an elbow over the edge. He reaches down, grabbing the back of my belt and yanks again. My heart and stomach go haywire, and I manage to swing my leg up on solid ground. Brett scrambles backward, his hands a firm grip on me as we scramble to the Lincoln.

We’re both breathing so hard we’re coughing and gagging. Brett has a slice on his right palm where my belt dug into him.

I want to tell him sorry, but words won’t form. I want to tell him thanks and a whole bunch of other sentimental shit, but I just cut glances at him and he nods as if he knows what I’m not saying and he’s not saying it too.

Once our breathing evens out, I take the bottom of my ripped shirt and tear the rest of the hanging fabric off. Brett spits into his hand and I help wrap up the cut. He smirks at it then leans his head back against the Lincoln door.

“Why the hell did you try driving this thing up a mountain?” he asks, breath still heavy.

I lean up against the car with him. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“So instead of calling for help you decided to jump off a cliff?”

“That actually sounds better than what happened.” I bring my knee up to rest my screaming arm on. “I slipped. Wasn’t paying attention.”

A few short chuckles escape him. “Might want to leave that part out when you tell Lex this story.”

“She’d see right through it,” I say, knowing my ears would flame or my face would turn purple like it always does when I lie. “She
force you to look for me?”

I raise an eyebrow at him, and he’s quiet for a few seconds. Then he scratches the back of his neck and smirks. “Of course she did. You think I’d come running after your ass all by myself?”

A slight shade of purple crosses over his face, and he quickly juts his gaze from me to the mountain. My heart starts to pound a little heavy again, like it did when I heard his voice. Looks like he’s not a good liar either.

A small smirk falls on my lips, and I nudge him in the shoulder. “Yeah. I’ll have to tell her thanks when I get back.”

“What? I pull your heavy ass up that mountain, and I don’t get shit?”

He laughs and I punch him in the shoulder,
then hiss through my teeth because my knuckles are still sore from the car hood.

“Yeah, I saw the new design you gave her,” Brett says, knocking against the Lincoln.

“Felt good to hit something.”

“Sometimes.” He nods to my jaw. “Other times it’s a mistake and makes you feel like shit.”

We go quiet again, and I adjust in the dirt, grappling for my phone. “Damn, my battery’s dead.”

“Who you want to call?”

“Tow truck,” I say as he hands me his phone. “Or Pop-pop to get a tow truck. Don’t think she’ll make it anywhere.”

I dial information, then I give Pop-pop a call. I leave out the part where I stepped over a ledge and just tell him we gotta bury the Lincoln
, and he puts money in my account to pay for it. When I hand Brett his phone back, he takes a long look at the car and sighs.

“I lost my car a couple months back.” His hand runs over the handle on the door. “She was a beaut.
1965 lifted El Camino. My dad gave her to me when I was twelve. We fixed her up, got her running, gave her a sweet 350 small block.”

“What happened to her?”

He scoffs at the ground. “I had to sell her.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. Owed people some money. Long story.”

I nod, getting the fact that he wants a subject change. And since he just saved my ass, I give him one.

Blowing out a long breath and knocking the Lincoln with my elbow, I say, “She was my dad’s.”

“Really?”

“He drove her everywhere. Replaced the engine once before, but we had to get a used one. When he… well, Pop-pop thought about selling her for parts, but I offered to help get her running.”

“You were seven…”

I laugh. “And pretty damn charming, too. Got my grandparents to keep it.”

“Well…” he says, eyeing the rims. He gulps and his voice shakes when he uses it. “Then I-I’m sorry you lost her.”

“Yeah…” My voice is shaking now. “Me too.”

He swipes at his eyes and I start pinching the bridge of my nose, and we both bend our heads and say, “Shit,” to the ground. Next thing I know we’re tugging on each other’s shirts, and for the first time since he got here, I’m hugging my brother.
It’s something so stupid… but it’s not just the car. It’s actually not the car at all, and I know it when he says he’s sorry behind my back, and I say it to him too knowing I’m apologizing for all the shit I’ve caused him since he got here.

“Hug it out, bitch,” I say, and he laughs and slams his hand against my back. I pound on his shoulder a couple times and tell him, “Thanks.”

For saving my dumb ass—in more ways than one.

Two hours have passed since Ryan’s last text and since Brett walked out the door. The knot in my stomach has doubled in size, twisting into an unruly knot that no matter what I do will not unravel.

My legs are bent at the knee tucked under my chin and I can’t keep from rocking. Without a car, without Ryan answering his damn phone, I’m stuck. Oh God what if they aren’t okay?

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Kaylee
says, wrapping her arms around me. She’s probably right, but tell that to my stomach.

Nate s
its down on my other side and adjusts his fedora. “Brett probably found him. Ryan may have thrown a punch to even the score, but I bet they’re best friends now, eating In-N-Out Burger while we’re here starving.”

“I’m not hungry,” I say.

“Well heck, I’m starving,” Nate says, and his stomach growls in agreement, causing us all to laugh.

“Do you have an alien in there?” I ask between laughs
, and it feels good, but still it doesn’t feel right. It won’t feel right until Ryan’s arms wrap around me, and I can lean my head on his warm hard chest and hear the beat of his heart.

“Sometimes I wonder,” Kaylee says with a smile. She bounces up from the couch and as soon as her arms leave mine they are replaced by Nate’s.

What did I ever do to deserve them?

Kaylee tosses a braid over her shoulder. “I’m going to whip something up.”

“Babe, you’re going to need some of my magic if you think you’re going to find anything in that kitchen. We ate everything.”

“No faith,” she says and walks over to the cabinets
, then opens them one by one, pulling out the weirdest combinations of things.

I start rocking again
, and Nate’s hold tightens. “Lexie, stop. First of all, Ryan’s just blowing off steam. If Brett finds him I’m sure Ryan won’t kill him.”

“But what if something happened to him?” I choke on my words.

“Ryan jumped off my roof and survived. He went down a black diamond ski slope and didn’t break a single bone.”

“That’s because Sean’s nose broke his fall.” I laugh and cry
, making this horrible snorting noise and Nate rubs my arm.

“What do those two things have in common?”

“Blood,” I say.

Nate’s grey eyes meet mine.
“Besides blood.” I shake my head because I have no idea what he’s getting at. “Both times, you were at the bottom, Ryan will do anything to get to where you are. Which is why I’m not worried and you shouldn’t be either. He’ll be here because you are.” Nate’s right. Ryan wouldn’t leave me alone in this world. So why hasn’t he picked up his damn phone?

“I just wish he’d call. Or text
me back.”

“I’m sure there is a perfectly good reason,” Nate says followed by a loud bang from the kitchen.

“Babe, are you okay?”

Kaylee whips around holding a pan and a
n electric mixer, flour on her cheek. “I’m fine.”

“I’m not even going to ask,” I say
, and Nate laughs.

“I think that’s our best bet.”

The door opens and my heart nearly jumps out my throat and lands on the wood floor. Ryan’s foot barely crosses the threshold before I’m off the couch, catapulting myself across the room into his arms.

“Umph.”

I overestimated my jump and wind up with my legs wrapped around his torso, clinging onto him like I haven’t seen him in months. It
felt
like months.

His body stumbles back sli
ghtly, but he gains his balance. I squeeze him tighter than I ever have, allowing his warmth to comfort me.

“Where the hell have you been?” I ask as I lean back. Before he can say a single word, my eyes focus on a small cut on the apple of his cheek, crusted with dirt and
dried blood. Dirt covers his whole face. “What happened to you? Are you okay?”

His hand cups my cheek
, and I push against his palm, curling my fingers around his. His knuckles feel rougher than usual, and I pull them down to eye level. Nasty purple marks slash across his skin, outlining two deep gashes.

“Ry?”
My heart beats out of control. I’m scared. Scared of what happened to him in the two hours he’s been gone.

“I’m okay,” he says and rests h
is hand on my head. He tilts my head up and kisses me. Once. Twice. A third time. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I say then release my monster strength and slide
down the front of him. His hands latch onto my hips and make sure I’m steady in my landing.

That’s when I turn and see Brett. He’s just as dirty. His hair dulled by the grime, nasty swollen red cuts going up and down his arm.

“Is it my turn for a welcome home?” Brett asks, and Ryan slugs him in the shoulder, wincing then flexing his fingers.

Brett holds his hands up and laughs. “Kidding.”

“Is anyone going to tell me what happened?” I ask, and Nate comes up beside me, Kaylee following with more flour in her hair.

“Get lost in a mud pit?” Nate asks.

“The Lincoln’s dead,” Ryan says, and my heart sinks to the floor.

The Lincoln was
his dad’s. The one thing he had left of him. I think of our ski trip and how I lost my ring and the deep cutting emotions that hit me at the thought I would never see it again. The connection I had lost... With me it was different.

My ring might have been my only connection to my father, but my father left. Ryan’s dad did
, too, but not by choice. He was taken from him. He didn’t choose to leave Ryan behind.

A lump forms in my throat for the pain I know Ryan is harboring inside. “Is it fixable?”

Ryan shakes his head. “No,” he whispers.

“Oh Ry, I’m so sorry.” I take his hand and squeeze.

“It’s okay. It had to happen eventually. At least we got one last trip in it.”

A silence falls over the room. Nate and Kaylee more than aware how much the Lincoln means to Ryan.

“Wasn’t bad enough his car died. This one had to go fall off a side of a mountain.”

“WHAT?” I scream. Mountain? Fell? My mind tries to wrap around the words. The beating in my chest reache
s an all time high, echoing in my ears and making it almost impossible to stay upright.

“I’m okay,” Ryan says again.

He’s standing right in front of me, and I can see that, but the reality slams into my chest and knocks the wind right the hell out of me.

“You could’ve died,” I breathe.

“Wouldn’t happen. Who would help you walk Brewster?” Ryan engulfs me in a hug and rocks me back and forth. Over my shoulder, I catch the grey of Nate’s eyes, and he flashes me a smile, mouthing, “Told you so.”

“Time for cupcakes,” Kaylee says.

“Huh?” we all say in unison.

“Nate was hungry. So I threw a few ingredients together…why are you questioning me? I said cupcakes people. Let’s go. Ryan, Brett you can tell us all about your adventure and then shower because let me tell you
, you two need one. Maybe two.”

No one questions Kaylee further. We follow her into the kitchen and all sit on the stools surrounding the counter. Ryan sits first and pulls me to him
, and I let Brett have my stool. Ryan nods to Brett and even though it’s done quickly, I still see the brotherly love tossed from one to the other.

I climb onto Ryan’s lap
, and he winces as I draw myself closer.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“My ribs. I think I might’ve bruised one.”

I go to jump off, afraid I’ll hurt him more, but he doesn’t let me, tightening his arms around my waist. “Stay with me,” he says against my ear.

I turn my head so I’m looking into his eyes. “Always.”