Page 73 of Shane
“Not even a card or note?” Shane asked.
She shook her head. “No, nothing.”
“Do you know where the bag and book are now?”
Her shoulders shuddered with a sigh. “When I came back from the hospital, you know, after he died, I put the book back in the bag and set it in his bedroom closet. He was my best friend!”
Her last comment was thrown out with plenty of pain, and Shane caught the defensive flash in Everlee’s eyes. “Sorry ladies, but I had to ask,” he explained contritely. “If the FBI can prove Frederick Lamb’s death wasn’t caused by a cardiac event, but by whatever he touched or inhaled that morning, then the gift Astor delivered to his condo holds the evidence we need to prove she murdered him, not the real Tuesday.”
Devastation flashed like a thundercloud across Tuesday’s already beleaguered countenance. “I had nothing when he rescued me after Mom and Dad died. Then Freddie died, and now, and now… I have nothing all over again.”
Everlee tugged her back into a lopsided hug. “You’ve got us, Shane and me.”
“It’s godawful hard to lose people you love, isn’t it?” Shane asked.
“You understand?” Tuesday asked, big fat tears running down her cheeks again.
He nodded, not wanting to go down this road again, but doing it nonetheless. “Yeah, I know. My mom… she died. Cancer. She was all I had. Started out as breast cancer; ended up in her bones, eating her alive. It was” —he swallowed hard— “the toughest thing I’ve lived through. We didn’t have any other family, so” —his heart was beating like a robin caught in his ribcage by then— “so, yeah, I know how you felt that day. How you still feel. But then…”
God, why was he doing this? To help her understand that she wasn’t alone? To somehow redeem himself from the guilt he carried for ever thinking she could’ve killed her husband or Bremmer or those kids? Shane honestly didn’t know if he was being selfless or selfish. He just wanted her to stop feeling alone.
He cleared his throat and started again. “But then” —another deep breath that brought no relief or enough air— “I was in an accident the morning after Mom died, and I… I killed two innocent people.”
“Oh, Shane,” Everlee whispered.
But he didn’t want pity. He’d just wanted Tuesday to understand that shit happened. That life sucked sometimes, but it did go on. It was still worth living.
“Jesus Christ, this is hard,” he hissed, wiping a quick hand over his face before he lost it completely. “But Tuesday, I promise you that Freddie wants you to keep living, just like my mom wants me to keep going. They loved us when they were alive. They still do. We honor them by living the best way we know how.”
But he’d forgotten Mother was listening. Deliberately, his thumb pressed the OFF button, ending the connection. As smart as she was, Mother had probably already put two and two together, was no doubt researching the exact date of his mother’s death. Possibly already knew he was the reason behind Stewart’s rage at the world. A rage he hid very well, just not well enough that another bastard who’d lost everyone he’d loved wouldn’t recognize the same black pit of grief and despair when he saw it. And Shane saw it every damned time he looked in his mirror.
All the anger he’d patiently stored, day after day and year after year, was nothing but a mountain of grief for all he’d lost that morning and the pain he’d inflicted on an innocent man. Shane was that greedy dragonSmaugin Tolkien’s novel,The Hobbit. But instead of gold, Shane had hoarded enough self-hatred, disgust, and anger to fill an ocean. Surprisingly, he was recognizing that very obvious shortcoming now.Shit,he was as broken as Tuesday.
He cast his eyes to the dusty floor between him and probably the only two friends he had in the United States. He was his own worst enemy, and he’d banked those embers of rage and grief for years, until the fire they created had nearly consumed him. It was only in hisreaching out to Tuesday that he’d inadvertently discovered the answer to his own riddle in life.How to let go.
Shane let his chest expand with the stifled air in this, his most recent hideaway. He almost felt good. Well, better. Alex didn’t hate him like he’d expected. Neither did his mom, Sara, or Abby. He sucked in another deep, cleansing breath and faced his truth.
Maybe it was time to stop beating himself up for something he could neither change nor forget. Maybe it was time to truly live again.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Everlee couldn’t help it. Without thinking, she flung herself at Shane, and thankfully, he caught her, just like she knew he would. He settled her sideways on his lap while she cried, “I’m sorry,” into his neck. “I didn’t know your mom died like that. How awful. How sad!”
“Yeah, well…” His chest rumbled with a throaty growl. “It’s not something I talk about. In fact….”
Everlee pulled back enough to look up at Shane as he ran a hand over his head, standing the short strands on end before bringing his hand back to rest in the middle of her back. “I’ve talked about it more since I joined The TEAM than I ever have before. Must be something in the water.”
She almost laughed at his attempt at levity, but choked instead. He was so much like Tuesday and her, left alone in the world at a tender age, still struggling to get back on his feet. Could she bare her own secrets like Shane and Tuesday had? Could she tell them how her race-car-driving dad, who she still idolized like a stupid little girl, had treated her and her mother? How she’d married the same kind of man, a selfish, narcissistic loser? A user of women and children and…well, of everyone he’d thought he could get something from?
Yeah, she loved her dad, still did, always would. But she knew now he’d never loved anyone but himself. Which he’d proved that fateful afternoon in her mother’s kitchen. Her father was the reason she’d left home and joined the Air Force as soon as she could. They’d actually needed her. He’d only ever needed himself.
Here Shane had bared his personal tragedy to connect with Tuesday, to make her feel like less of a leper. Only problem, that valiant effort made Shane and Tuesday the healthiest two people under this raggedy big top. There was only one leper left. Everlee. And she had no idea how to take that precarious first step toward freedom.
She snuggled closer into him, wanting his touch, craving the steadfast feel of his hand on her back. It had been a long damned time since any man had held her so kindly, like he cared. Truth be known, she was starved for touch. His touch. Shane was real and true and honest, and so damned handsome, it hurt to look at him sometimes. Especially when he smiled.
And there Everlee flamed out. Because he was everything she wasn’t. She was the big pretender, the fraud. But he’d been brave enough to say grace at his boss’s TEAM picnic, with everyone watching. Even Alex. But she was just a workaholic wannabe, busting her ass to keep up with the guys, running too fast, talking too much, always trying to prove she was just as good as any guy in the world.
Yet here was a man brave enough to confess that he’d killed two innocent people.