“Oh God, she’s gonna hate me. She’s gonna… ” Jack stopped still, his knees trembling as the weight of his decision pushed down on him.
“You were trying to save her life, the car could’ve gone up at any time and she would’ve been inside it if you hadn’t pulled her out!”
Jack blinked, coming back to reality with a jolt. “But it didn’t, did it? It didn’t ignite. Maybe I imagined it? Maybe there was no gas, maybe it was all in my head?”
“You didn’t imagine it!” Callum rasped sharply, tears gathering in his eyes. “I smelt it too – for God’s sake, this isn’t helping. Remember what the doc said? When she wakes up, she’s gonna need you. If she sees you like this it’s just gonna freak her out. You need to get a grip!”
Jack stared back at him, dumbstruck. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he couldn’t stand there in front of Ally and tell her that because of what he did, she was never going to walk again. He couldn’t apologise – there were no words for what he had done. And what did it matter anyway? Words wouldn’t fix it, nothing would. His whole body went numb as the realisation coursed through his veins, eating away at his insides, hollowing him out.
The door opened then, and it felt like time had slowed down again. His father appeared and at the look of anguish on his face, Jack broke down.
“Son,” he said simply, and then Jack was freefalling into his arms.
CHAPTER 9
“Not everything that is faced can be changed.
But nothing can be changed until it is faced.”
- James Arthur Baldwin
Jack climbed into his car and sat there, staring into the darkness.
She wants me to stay.
He felt light-headed for a moment before joy quickly turned to uncertainty. He had convinced himself that she was going to send him away – and why not? What could she possibly see in him that he couldn’t see in himself? He didn’t deserve this. How would he ever prove to her that he was worthy of it if he didn’t truly believe it himself? How was he going to change things?
Get a grip. Don’t do this.
He couldn’t screw this up, not again. There was too much riding on it now. The strength in Ally’s voice as she talked about her injury had been in direct contrast to the look in her eyes. He was under no illusion that it was as straightforward as she made it sound. One thing was for certain, he had a lot to catch up on.
His phone vibrated in his pocket and he dug it out, declining the call and tossing it onto the passenger seat. It wasn’t the first time Ben had tried contacting him and probably wouldn’t be the last. He vowed to pick up a new phone, and soon.
Listening to the engine idling, he contemplated his next move. He had no idea how this would go but he had promised Ally he would try, so try he would. He pulled away from the curb and into the darkness, headlights illuminating the road ahead.
Driving through town, the roads were more or less deserted as he left the streetlights behind, detouring from the main road and onto a quiet side street. He hadn’t been to Callum’s house in years, but he drove on autopilot, as if he were here just yesterday. He pulled over to the curb opposite the last house on the street and sat in the car, staring at it. The house was dark and Callum’s car was nowhere in sight. What had happened to Callum’s van? He had put so much work into getting it on the road, he found it hard to believe he would ever part with it, yet apparently he had.
He could tell from the way Ally talked about him that they were close and while he understood why, it still hurt. He had to keep reminding himself that he had walked away – Callum hadn’t. It made sense, their bond. He swallowed down the jealousy he knew he had no right to feel. He had to work at gaining their trust back, and that was exactly what he was planning to do.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled away from the curb. Callum wasn’t at home so that meant he would have to go looking for him. Barney’s was his first stop. He hadn’t been inside since he returned to town but he was willing to play the odds. He started to sweat. Barney’s was familiar territory and he had purposefully avoided any such places since the debacle at the funeral. The curtain-twitching going on next door every time he left the house was getting on his nerves. What sort of reception would he get here?
Callum glanced up from the sink as the men’s room door creaked open. Andy McLeish stood in the doorway, wearing a self-satisfied smirk that Callum immediately wanted to punch off his face. Instead, he grabbed a paper towel and quickly dried his hands, tossing it into the tin bucket in the corner.
“Well, look who it is,” Andy purred.
“What the hell do you want? Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Why? Am I making you nervous?”
“Nope,” he mumbled, pushing past Andy irritably. “But the smell of bullshit in here is making me gag.”