Everything burned. My eyes. My throat. My fucking guts. But I knew Sutton was right. I couldn’t erase Teddy’s legacy. I’d just have to find a way to live with the guilt. I’d done it before. I could do it again.
Sutton dropped her forehead to mine, our breaths mingling. “I’m so sorry. I’d do anything to take this away. To fix it. The way you did for me.”
My arms went around her; I couldn’t stop myself. Her warmth and heat were too alluring. I wanted to lose myself in everything that was Sutton. To forget all the darkness that swirled in me.
“Warrior,” I rasped.
“I’m right here,” she whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”
So damn close. I swore I could taste her already. Cinnamon, sugar, and something else. The promise of pureness, of cleansing. I wanted it all. My fingers twisted in Sutton’s shirt, bringing her even closer. Then my fucking phone rang.
We didn’t jerk apart like when Trace had rung the bell. We stayed just as we were for a long moment until the ringing began anew.
I forced myself to release Sutton and reached for the device on the arm of the sofa. Linc’s name flashed on the screen. That stew of nasty emotions was back, but I forced my finger to slide across the screen.
“Linc,” I said in greeting.
He was quiet for a moment. “I’d ask how you’re holding up, but I don’t make a habit of asking stupid questions.”
I felt a flutter in the muscles of my mouth like my lips knew they should smile but couldn’t quite do it. “Glad you don’t do that.”
And I knew he wouldn’t start with the placating, “I’m so sorry for your loss” bullshit. Because Linc knew what it was like. He’d lost someone close to him in one of the worst ways imaginable. But that meant this was likely stirring up shit for him, too. “You hanging in?” I asked.
He knew what I meant. We’d only talked about that time in his life once when we were both nearly blackout drunk after an especially vicious loss that knocked us out of the playoffs. We’d smoked cigars and drank whiskey into the early morning hours. And we never talked about it again.
“I’m fine,” he clipped.
I wanted to scoff. We were both terrible liars these days. “Did you need something, or are you just playing Mr. Sensitive and checking in?”
Linc sighed. “Sorry, man. I just got out of a meeting with Teddy’s parents.”
That was a knife to the gut and also explained Linc’s lack of control. “Are you in Iowa?”
“They’re here. In Seattle.”
“Oh.” It made sense. They’d have to claim the body. Clean out his house. The burn was back, thinking about every piece of Teddy they’d erase.
“They’re going to do a small service here on Sunday. I told them I’d arrange it, but they asked for you to give the eulogy.”
“What?” The question was out before I could stop it, and there was a bite to the word.
Sutton’s hands tightened on my thighs, reassuring me that she was still there, just like she’d promised.
“You were his closest friend. They want you to do it,” Linc said softly.
I tried to swallow a few times before my throat finally obeyed. “Of course.” I said the words even though I didn’t mean them at all. “I’ll head up tonight.”
“Don’t drive,” Linc cut in. “I’m sending my jet to your local airstrip. It’ll be there sometime after three.”
That would make it easier. I wouldn’t have to take the same path Teddy had or drive an hour to the main airport in Central Oregon to catch a commercial flight. “Thanks.”
“I’m here. Whatever you need.”
“You, too.” But I knew Linc would never take me up on it.
I ended the call and stared down at Sutton. She looked up at me, a crease in her beautiful brow. “What did he say?”
“Funeral on Sunday. They want me to give the eulogy.”
