My skin felt tight where the man’s blood had dried on me. I clenched my teeth as the memory of what transpired flashed through my mind. I’d never wanted a shower so badly in my life.
A low hum came from the front seat and turned to a groan. Rylen shot Tater a startled look as my brother slumped forward, his arms over his head, shoulders wracked with convulsions. It took a moment for me to realize he was crying. My chest constricted and Remy gasped. He sobbed for an anguished minute, the sounds stabbing at my gut.How would Mom comfort him?
I unbuckled and leaned over the seat to press a hand to Tater’s upper back. “Esta bien, Jacob. Thank you.” Two of my own fat tears ran down and splattered his T-shirt.
Tater reached back and took my hand, holding it tight.
“I can’t lose you, Amber.” His voice was thick with tears.
“I’m here,” I whispered. “Because of you.”
“But I never . . .” His shoulders shook and he sucked in a breath. “That man. He wasn’t DRI.” Tater sat up, letting go of my hand to wipe his face. “He was just some fucked up man. A victim, like us. But when I saw that gun on you . . .”
“You did the right thing,” Rylen said. “Anyone who threatens one of our lives is an enemy, DRI or not.” Ry glanced at me, then back at Tater. “I would’ve done the same thing.”
Tater shook his head. “Everything’s fucked up. They’ve got us all turned against each other like animals.” He put a knuckle to his mouth and turned to the window. I could see the tendons taut in his neck, his arms muscles flexed with tension. Another sob wrenched out of him. “I took his gun, man. It wasn’t even loaded.”
God above. A sinking heaviness pressed me down. My brother had killed for me, and it hadn’t even been necessary. He could have hit him over the head. Now a man was dead. Tater’s trembling hand covered his face, and I squeezed his shoulder harder. I would have done anything to take this burden from his soul. It was my stupid fault for exploring by myself without my gun. Now Tater would carry this guilt for life.
“I’m sorry,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut.
“There was no way to know it wasn’t loaded,” Rylen tried to assure us. “You couldn’t take the chance.”
I squeezed Tater’s shoulder harder, trying to infuse my remorse and reassurance into him. I wanted to tell him it was going to be okay, my mouth couldn’t form the words. Nothing was okay.
We rode in stunned silence for forty-five more minutes until it was time to try again.
