“You can. I might not answer.” Her grin lightens the gravity of oursituation.
“Why did you tell him we weren’t together? The morning he came to my room.” A guitar riff dances between us for so long I wonder if she won’tanswer.
“Because I knew he would hurt you. That he wouldn’t stop hurting you if heknew.”
My stomach drops with her answer. I should have never left her with Coy. If she feared that for me, she surely expected he’d hurt her, too. Chancing a glance to my right, I find her nervously chewing her bottom lip. “It stings a little that you have no confidence in my ability to protect myself,” I tease and rub at my chest as if I’m concerned about myego.
The grin that spreads across her face is exactly what I aimed for. “I hate to break this to you, Sean, but you’re a terriblefighter.”
A chuckle bursts from my lips. “I really am, aren’tI?”
Her hand comes out to rest on my forearm. “Sean, he wouldn’t have stopped until you were dead.” Her eyes are wide andscared.
“So you sacrificed yourself?” It kills me that shewould.
“I couldn’t stand there and watch him beat you.” She brings her hand back into her lap and I try not to read too far into what might berejection.
“Now you know how I felt.” I mash my lips together and exhale deeply. “Why Ileft.”
“I’m sorry.” Her voice is so soft I barely hear her over themusic.
I shake my head, not wanting an apology I’m not owed to begin with. “Don’t be sorry, be better. You deserve the world, Jess, but you won’t have any of it until you believe thatyourself.”
Suddenly, she gasps and taps on the windshield. “There! Up ahead, on that bench.” She points to an outlook. The sunset illuminates so brightly I can barelysee.
“What?” I flip down the visor and turn the wheel in the direction of her finger. The closer we approach, the more I agree she’s right. The thin frame of a man looking out toward the horizon doesn’t move, and the pit of my gut churns withalarm.
“Sean,” she whispers as if she feels ittoo.
I throw the gear shift in park and yank open the door. “Stay in the car.” Gravel crunches under the soles of my boots. Each footstep forward piles more dread as the man on the bench doesn’t move. “Iz?” Still nothing as I close the space between us. “Hey, hey!” I shout and a breeze lifts the hairs on myskin.
The clothes. The shoes. They’re Iz, and my gait increases to a run because he’s not moving. My legs lose strength the moment I find his gaze. Eyes glassy and open, he’s stuck staring at the ocean. Ignoring the blue of his lips, my hand reaches for his, my fingers sliding up to his wrist in search of a pulse I know isn’tthere.
“Iz. Oh, Iz, no.” I shake my head, and my heart squeezes with the pain. Slamming my eyes closed against his lifeless form, I wish I could shut out the hurt. I wish I could bring him back. If only I hadn’t left town. If I weren’t clear across the country, I could have found him sooner. I might I have found himfirst.
“Sean, is it him?” Jess calls from the car. I let go of his hand and straighten my spine to meet her gaze. She doesn’t approach, but stares waiting for myreply.
I nod and turn away from his body. “It’sIz.”
“Do we need an ambulance?” By the way she asks I think she alreadyknows.
“Call the cops. No ambulance.” I shake my head and fall to my knees, letting the ground crush and dig into the skin of my knees. The pain pulls me to the present. It reminds me how I’m very much alive and my friend . . . My friend is no longer withus.
