Stolen Course (Wrecked and Ruined #2)

“I’ll look like a dick for checking up on her,” I say, pacing the floor, but my mind is already made up.

“You are a dick. I think she’s used to it by now. Go barge in on her drinking coffee with her sister, but let me know when you find her,” he answers, dragging a tape measure up the wall.

“I’ll just give her fifteen minutes. Maybe call her another dozen times,” I say, absent of all humor. Realistically, I’ll probably call her thirty times over the next fifteen minutes.

I peek out the window and look at the heavy snow falling on the frozen roads. What if she’s hurt or stranded?

Fuck it. She can be pissed.

“I’m out of here.” I yank open the door and head for my truck.





“I WAS all over the place when Eli got there. He put me in the back of his car to keep me from wandering away. He immediately went to work on you and Manda. Finally, he came running up to the car and sped away. I tried to stop him, but he said there was another car and ambulance a minute out and they would take care of you.”

“Why the fuck would he have left us there? He could have saved her!”

“She was gone. The minute I hit that tree, Manda was gone. Her green eyes were wide open, looking at me when I found her.” All three of us flinch at her painful memory, and Sarah throws a hand to her mouth as her stomach threatens to revolt. “Please don’t blame this on Eli. He loved me. He knew I was high, and we both thought you two were gone. The plan was that I would go and turn myself in as soon as I sobered up, but when you didn’t remember anything, I sat back and allowed you to self-destruct because I was too afraid to face the consequences.” She sucks in a strangled cry.

“No. Please stop. Just stop,” Sarah begs, remembering the night she has no memory of through Casey’s words.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Sarah. I should never have agreed to drive you guys home that night. I sure as hell shouldn’t have waited five years to tell you this. I was just…”

“Shut up,” Sarah snaps at her. “Shut up, and never mention this again. This begins and ends here.” Sarah wipes her tears on the backs of her sleeves and rises to her feet. I stand beside her, looking puzzled by her response but not willing to drop my guard. “As far as everyone is concerned, I was driving the car that night. It’s over. Let it go.”

“I can’t do that. I honestly can’t live like this for even a minute longer. I’m done. Being buried beside Manda would have to feel better than this.”

“Casey. Don’t say that.” I try to stop where her mind is headed, yet once again, Sarah is the one who makes the real impression.

“I’ve lived with that guilt for years. I’ve tried to kill myself more times than anyone even knows. I’ve been burdened with the blame of this entire incident for entirely too long. I’ve lived it, owned it, and most recently moved on from it. I will be damned if I will sit by and watch you be publicly stoned for this. I’ve been there and done that. It fucking sucks. Just let it go. Please. You don’t want to open this back up.”

“I’m sorry.” Casey again chokes on a sob.

“You still taking pills?” Sarah asks rationally, and I might even say levelheadedly.

“No! I swear. I had a problem for years before that night, and exactly one week after the accident, I checked myself into rehab in Ohio. It’s been a long road of bouncing back and forth between sobriety, but I’ve been sober for three years and four months now. I’m done with that shit.”

“Good. Then you’ve done your time. I’ve already been crucified. I won’t let the same thing happen to you.”

“Stop being nice!” Casey shrieks. “I kept this shit from you for almost six years. Hit me. Hate me. Berate me. Do something. But don’t fucking be nice! I killed her. I fucking killed Manda! Hate. Me!”

I feel him long before I see him. An arctic breeze flows through the air just before his voice slides across the room.

“You did what?” Caleb asks, suddenly standing in the door way with a fire brewing in his eyes.





WHAT THE fuck is going on? I came up to the door and heard a woman screaming. Luckily it was unlocked or I would have torn the damn thing off the hinges to get to Emma. When I walk in, before I can fully assess the situation, Casey says words that cause my heart to still.

“I fucking killed Manda. Hate. Me!”

My eyes fly around the room trying to put the pieces together to somehow form a coherent thought. I can’t see Casey’s face, but I have no doubt it probably matches the tear-stained cheeks of Sarah and Emma.

“You did what?” I ask, and it’s like a kindergartner with a globe gave the world one big spin. The room morphs into chaos. Sarah rushes over and stands in front of Casey, blocking her from me as if I were a madman who just broke into the house.

“No!” she shouts, pushing Casey completely behind her—shielding her with her body.