Sawyer (Carolina Reapers 2)

Part of me ached to reach out to him. To call him. To send him a random text and pretend like nothing had happened between us. To hit the rewind button and go back to that blissful piece of paradise we’d lived in a week ago.

Too good to be true. People die. People leave.

And the only thing that remained constant was the strength I had to muster to put myself back together. But this time? This time was a different kind of breaking. One I’d never experienced before. This one felt like I’d never actually been whole—not really, not without him. And now he was gone because I reacted to my survival instincts and cut him out of my life for his own good.

I loved him so much I wanted what was best for him…and I wasn’t it. Not with how much he’d nearly lost because of me.

I’d been foolish to think I could ever be good enough for him.

I drove away from Chad’s family house, cruising the streets in a daze. My mind chewed on all the things that had gone wrong with Sawyer, and I wondered if striking up a friendship with him had been the thing to damn him. If we hadn’t gotten along so well, hadn’t had that instant connection, maybe we’d both have been spared this pain.

The love? That’s more powerful than any grief. Even if it’s just the memory of it.

Sawyer’s voice echoed in my mind, the words he spoke to me with such passion all those months ago.

I pulled over and parked on a side street, needing a second to collect my breath. To stop the tears that kept on coming, despite me thinking I’d used them all up.

A few deep breaths and some agonizing back and forth and I reached for my cell, my thumb hovering over Sawyer’s name.

I chewed on my bottom lip, wanting to scream at him, wanting to cry at him, wanting to simply hear him. Wanting to confess to him that I hadn’t meant a word of it. That I didn’t mean to break us. Break him. Wanted to tell him that he was right—I did push people away, but he was the first one I actually wanted to stay.

I hit call.

It rang.

And rang.

And rang.

And went to voicemail.

I didn’t have the courage to leave a message. Didn’t have the words or time enough to speak the truth slicing through my heart.

So I hung the phone up, wiped my eyes, and pulled back onto the road. Ready to drive home and sleep for the rest of the day. Or the week. I hadn’t decided, yet.

I crept to a stop at a red light, my stomach swirling until I thought I might vomit. I cranked my air conditioning, letting the cool air ease the nausea. I hadn’t eaten this morning—nothing had sounded appealing, and I’d been so focused on ridding my life of Chad forever that I didn’t think about it. It was well past lunch. I’d have to eat something as soon as I got home.

The light turned green just as my cell vibrated in the cup holder. I instantly answered, putting my cell on speaker as I slowly accelerated into the intersection.

“Sawyer?” I gasped.

“Echo, I—”

Screeching tires covered whatever he was about to say.

A hard, fast, something slammed into the passenger side of my car.

One second I was there.

The next I was rolling.

Flying.

The sound of crunching metal.

Shattering glass.

A stuttered sob.

Then darkness.

19

Sawyer

“Echo?” I called out, but the line had gone dead. I lowered the phone from my ear and stared at it, willing her to magically appear on the other end again.

What had that sound been before we’d lost service?

I called her back, but it rang four times and went to voicemail. Just the sound of her voice on the stupid message had my heart aching. Finally the beep sounded. “Hey, it’s me. I’m not sure why you called, but I’m glad you did. I miss the hell out of you, and I’m hoping you were calling to say the same thing, but even if you weren’t, I still miss you. I still love you. Call me when you can.”

I hung up and slipped the phone into my back pocket. Then I went back to boxing up Mom’s books.

“Who was that?” she asked, walking over slowly.

“Echo, but we got cut off.” I quickly took her elbow and helped lower her into the recliner she’d sat in the same night she’d met Echo.

“Well, that’s too bad. I’m hoping you two will patch things up, you know.”

“Yeah, well, that’s really up to her.” I turned and lowered another set of books into the open box.

“Is it?” she asked in that tone of hers, the one that told me I should rethink what I’d just said.

I blew my breath out slowly and faced my mother with a calm smile.