Follow Me Back (Fight for Me 2)

But I knew well enough what lay in his words and Evan’s chart.

Evan had little chance of making it through the night.

A panicked regret swelled, constricting and suffocating. I couldn’t breathe. “I tried.”

I’d tried to save him.

Had tried to save Melody.

And it wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t enough.

I would never, ever be enough.

Her soggy plea filled the air. “Don’t you dare give up on hope, Kale Bryant. Don’t you dare. Not when we’re finally free.”

I forced myself to look up at her.

At this girl who had changed everything.

Green eyes and red hair and dimpled chin striking in the glow of the candles that sent shadows flickering across her gorgeous, unforgettable face.

The best thing I’d ever seen.

And that spark in the deepest part of me, the one she’d ignited, lapped and danced and begged.

I forced myself to stand, my smile weak. “I think you have enough faith for the both of us, sweet girl.”

I’d no longer be the one who threatened it.

I swallowed around the misery. “No matter what happens . . . don’t ever lose that. Don’t ever give up on hope. It’s the brightest thing I’ve ever seen.”

I turned on my heel and started up the aisle.

I could feel her pushing to standing, her presence powerful as it slammed into me from behind, her words choked and rasping, “Don’t you dare, Kale Bryant. You promised me.”

I kept walking.

“I need you.”

I need you. I need you. I need you.

Melody’s voice twined with Hopes.

Torment.

Torture.

Agony.

I came to a standstill, breaths panting from my lungs.

“Who is it you’re running from Kale? What are you afraid of? That the girl you loved was Evan’s aunt? Their hearts? Or are you just afraid of lovin’ me?”

I tried to stand upright under the crushing weight of the grief that surged and raged and slammed.

I forced myself to look at her from over my shoulder. “I’m afraid of what I’ve been afraid of all along. That I would never be enough. That I was chasing after something I couldn’t have.”

Seeing the heartbreak wash over her face, I turned back around and rushed for the door.

Needing to get out of there before I fell at her feet.

Before I begged her to let me try to be that guy I’d been pretending to be all along.

But that guy had only hurt her. Fucked up time and again.

I squeezed my eyes closed when her voice pierced me from behind. “The only way you can fail me is by walking away.”

Grief clutched me in its fiery hold. Incinerating. Blistering.

Ash.

When I tore the door open to escape, I knew that was all that was left of me.

32

Hope

I’d always wondered how many broken hearts one person could endure.

Broken hearts meted out by unexpected tragedy.

Broken hearts delivered by the ones who were supposed to love them most.

True, physical broken hearts that struggled to continue to beat, marred by fate and health and genetic abnormalities.

Sometimes, I felt as if I could endure no more.

Kale had . . . crushed me.

I’d allowed myself to love him so freely. Love him so easily. Because I saw so much greatness in him. So much kindness in his giving, bleeding heart.

Maybe his heart had been broken one too many times, and he knew he could take no more.

I guessed I’d been right all along.

Had seen it coming the night he’d strode across the bar and slid into the stool next to me.

He’d looked like discord.

Chaos with an easy, arrogant smile.

A perfect, controlled disorder.

Just as I thought, the man had looked like a broken heart.

I sat next to my son—my life—in the darkened room where he lay in the middle of the elevated bed. Lights dimmed in the space. He was connected to a million tubes and wires, face covered in tape the same way he’d been as a tiny infant, the machine he was connected to inflating his chest as it pumped life into him.

Where his tiny body fought and fought and fought to conquer another broken heart.

And I knew sitting there, I would endure a million more broken hearts for him.

With him.

I jerked when I felt the presence behind me. I swiveled to look over my shoulder.

Dr. Krane stood there with a cautious smile on his face. “You’re still here.”

I almost laughed. “I’m not sure you could drag me out if you tried.”

Four days.

That was how many days I’d been sitting in this spot, my mama and Jenna bringing me my meals. Keeping me company while I fought the gnawing that ate me from the inside out. Renewing my energy so I could in turn give it to Evan.

They hadn’t expected him to make it through that first night.

I’d seen what was written in Dr. Krane’s eyes when he’d come to me after the surgery to give me an update, and then I’d gone straight to the chapel.

I’d dropped to my knees and issued up unending prayers.