“So did you!”
“You honestly think anyone would have looked at Sullivan on the day of my funeral and told him that it should have been him in that box?” His eyes narrowed.
“Your dad had no right to say that.” I shook my head. My fingertips ached with the need to pull Cam close. To go back to that day and stand beside him instead of across from him. To have said the things I wanted to instead of the things I was supposed to.
“He had every right. Sullivan was dead. I should have saved him. I should have sent the other squad to hold the perimeter. Should have taken his place myself. Realized what combat outpost we’d been called in for. I should have held his wound tighter. Had them transfuse me immediately. I should have shot him in the fucking foot the minute he decided to enlist. There are a million things I could have done and a million things I did do that more than earned me that pine box we buried him in.”
“Camden, stop.”
“Still think I did everything I could have, Willow? I sat there and let the love of your life bleed out all over me.”
“You didn’t.” The words were as weak as I felt, and the icy hand of fear wrapped around my throat, waiting for Camden to make me clarify that statement.
“I did. And you think you want these hands”—he held them palms out—“on you? The same hands that reached inside Sullivan and felt the life drain out of him?”
“That’s not fair.”
“News flash. None of this is fair. None of what’s happened to you is fair, and you deserve someone better.”
My head snapped like I’d been struck. “Better? How can you possibly say that?”
“Jesus, you need more? When he died, I was jealous as hell that he got to see our mom first. She was the only person who loved me just as much as Sully or Xander. I was jealous of my dying brother! And angry. So angry!”
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Ring.
“Oh yeah? I was angry at the world. Angry at that asshole with the gun on the other side of the wall. Angry that Dad let him enlist. Angry that Xander sat in a cushy office while I held Sullivan. Angry that you hadn’t talked him into staying with you.”
I blanched. “I know.”
Ring.
“No, you don’t. I was most angry at Sullivan, because he had the right I would have died for and never even used it. Because when he passed, it was Mom’s name on his lips, when I knew mine would have been yours.”
I sucked in air on reflex, but every other muscle in my body stilled. Someone pressed the pause button, and we stood suspended in a moment when not even my heart dared to beat.
Ring.
“What?” Camden shouted into the phone.
My heart pounded. My head felt light, almost detached from my body. I stumbled backward until I felt the counter and then shamelessly used it to keep me upright when my knees threatened to give out.
“When?” His gaze darted to the clock on the wall. “Shit. I’ll be there in seven minutes.” He hung up and left the kitchen without another word, making a beeline for the garage.
I opened the door that had just slammed in my face and ignored the assault of cold air on my bare knees.
“Cam, what’s going on?”
He moved quickly, gearing up to ride.
“Cam!”
He flinched but didn’t stop dressing. “My dad’s had an accident. Xander found him in the garage. He must have been trying to leave, because the car was on but the door was shut.” Cam shoved his feet into a set of wool socks from the locker and then into his riding boots.
“Oh God. What do you need?”
His eyes jerked up to mine. “What?”
“What do you need me to do? Do you want me to go? Should I call the hospital to send an air ambulance? What?”
He blinked twice. “Medevac is on the way. If I leave now, I should make it to Dad’s in time.” He stood and zipped up his coat, then reached for his helmet as I grabbed his gloves. “Just stay here. Where I know you’re not freezing to death out there.” His face disappeared beneath the helmet, and he snapped it on.
I handed him the gloves and grabbed his arm as he turned to leave.
“Be careful,” I said clearly, looking at my own eyes reflecting back in the visor. “Camden, I care if you get hurt. So be careful.”
He nodded once and left me standing in his socks, his…everything as he took the snowmobile out and headed to his dad’s.
I glanced around the garage, my eyes landing on the Bobcat with a very lovely plow attached to the front. At least I wasn’t helpless.
Walking into the living room, I saw Cam’s wallet on the coffee table and groaned.
Guess it was time to dig myself out.
Chapter Thirteen
Camden
The mountain flew by in a whir of white snow and blue sky, dotted by pine trees and the skeletons of winterized aspens as I raced down the mountain. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, a familiar and welcome friend. The snow had already crusted, the result of the overnight freeze.
Why didn’t I pick up the phone the first time? I could have been there by now, not trying like hell to beat the air ambulance team.
I knew exactly why. Because I’d had my hands full of Willow. The phone had ripped me out of whatever ridiculous daydream I’d been in and dropped me on my ass in the real world.
The world where I would never be able to touch Willow like that again.
The world where Dad left the car running in the garage.
I took the final turn a little too fast and skidded almost to the edge of the drive, just shy of the switchback drop-off. Pay attention.
A half minute later, I killed the engine in front of the garage, where Xander hovered over Dad, compressing his chest in rhythmic beats, pausing only to deliver rescue breaths.
I ripped off my helmet and let it fall, already running into the garage. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” Xander asked, up on his knees with his hands locked over Dad’s chest.
“Why is he still in here?” God, I could still smell the exhaust even though the truck was clearly off.
“I can’t get leverage in that much snow.” Xander nodded toward the driveway.
“He can’t stay in here.” I quickly assessed the garage and moved, spotting a full length of plywood. It came free of the wood stack easily, and I silently thanked my dad for being a type A…whatever he was. It scraped the floor as I slid it toward Dad, then dropped it to cover a section of the concrete.