She was willing him to believe, he could feel it. He desperately wanted to, but letting go of the guilt was like closing his eyes and jumping into the abyss.
“I can’t fix this for you, just like you can’t fix what happened to me. You don’t need me to forgive you, you need to forgive yourself,” she said, her eyes now an intense blue, piercing his soul. “When you came back, you told me you’d do anything to make it up to me, remember? You promised me you’d do whatever it takes. Well, this is what it takes – this is what I need from you. I need you to let go of everything that happened that night. I need you to stay, but not with that hanging over us.”
The pain was excruciating. He felt as if he were being pulled in two different directions, physically split down the middle. Guilt over what he did that night was such a big part of who he thought he was – without it he was lost. Taking the guilt out of the equation, what was left?
“Please,” Ally begged, her chin quivering. The strength he had seen in her just moments before seemed to melt away. “I need you.”
And then it was blindingly clear. He was here to make a difference. He came back because he needed to clear his conscience, make up for what he had done. He had promised her he would, he had promised his father he would. It was time to let go of the words and let his actions speak for themselves.
“I’ll do anything for you,” he whispered.
And he meant it.
CHAPTER 25
“No man is an island.”
- John Donne
Jack unlocked the side door to his father’s garage and reached around the corner for the light switch. As bright, white light bathed the interior, he breathed a sigh of relief. Unlike the house, the garage was untouched. Flashes of that night rushed in on him.
Jimmy throwing him across the room. A boot in the ribs. Smashing glass. Splintering wood.
If he was going to repair what was broken, he needed tools and cleaning equipment, which was why he was out here. Looking around now, it felt like an oasis – calm, quiet, tidy.
He ran his hand over his father’s car, the paint job smooth and cool beneath his fingers. Tools were neatly lined up and hanging from the pegboard behind the workbench. Labeled cardboard boxes stood stacked up against the far wall.
A shape, covered in a pale sheet, at the far end of the garage caught his eye. His heart stopped.
It couldn’t be. Could it?
Even though his mind told him it was impossible, he found himself gravitating towards it just to be sure. He reached out and pulled the sheet away, doubling it back over itself to reveal the gleaming black body of his Ducati motorcycle. He backed away from it slowly, as if it were some kind of hologram that might disappear if he blinked.
“Jack?”
Callum’s voice in the doorway startled him, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the bike.
“I… I don’t understand,” he mumbled, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Did you know about this?”
“Know about what?”
He dragged himself away from the bike and turned to Callum. Where to begin?
He cleared his throat. “I needed money, a couple of years back, and I asked him to sell it for me – he said he did. He sold it, sent me the money.”
Callum’s gaze flew from Jack to the bike and back again. “Then what the hell is it still doing here?”
“Beats the hell out of me,” Jack ran a hand through his hair, frowning at the bike. “I don’t understand, why did he say he sold it if he didn’t?”
Callum left the doorway and leant against the car, folding his arms. “Maybe he wanted you to have the bike and the money?”
That sounded like his father, alright. He leant back against the car beside Callum, deflated.
“You two spent a lot of time on that bike. Maybe he just wanted to make sure it would be waiting for you when you came home?”
The hollow ache in Jack’s chest intensified.
“He never gave up on you.”
Jack stared at the bike, sleek black body gleaming under the bright white light. The plan had been for him and Ally to take a cross-country trip, opening their eyes to the world outside of this town. The irony of it.
Be careful what you wish for.
“I’ll sell it.”
“Like hell!”
“I’ll sell it and pay you back for the loan.”
“Think again, dude,” Callum grunted. “Tom obviously wanted you to have it. He knew you loved it, that’s why he kept it. You can’t just get rid of it, that’s like insulting his memory.”
Jack’s heart seized, and he shook his head. “The trip across country – that was our dream, mine and hers.”
“So find another dream.”
He made a good point. Standing up straight, he walked over to the bike and pulled the sheet the rest of the way off, dropping it onto the garage floor. He ran his hand over the glossy paint.
It was like a beacon – a message from beyond the grave. His father hadn’t given up on him. Somehow he knew that one day, he would do the right thing.