Audrey had grasped Tate’s hand, and he squeezed it tight. He looked up to see her eyes pooling with tears. He too felt like crying, but he couldn’t, not now. He would never get through it if he did. It was as if he was ripping open the wound and pouring salt into it with every word he said. Yet he had to go on.
“We lived in a small town, everyone knew everyone. The woman behind the hospital’s reception desk was one of my mom’s friends. She was crying. When I asked for my mom and dad, she shook her head, choking back tears while she pointed to a cop who stood with some doctors. I knew then that they were gone. Like a zombie, I approached them at the same time they turned to look at me. It was like a movie,” he said with an abrupt, disbelieving laugh, “and I was watching it all happen from the sidelines.
“The cop, I knew him—he had arrested me when I was a kid for breaking windows with hockey pucks. He cupped my shoulder and shook his head, then said, ‘I’m sorry, son, they have all passed.’ It’s funny that I can still remember that, huh?” he asked with an empty, soulless laugh. Audrey shook her head, her free hand cupping her throat as her eyes stayed locked with his. Without waiting for her to answer, he went on. “Then he told me that they were driving to the game and had to pick up Matilda from dance. They were running late, but I knew they would be …
“Well, Dad took the back roads and was coming around a corner when these guys in a truck bigger than his came around the same corner but in my dad’s lane, hitting him head on. It killed Mom and Dad instantly. Matilda made it to the hospital but died minutes before I got there. There were five guys in the truck, and they all survived with only minor injuries. They were all high and drunk, being stupid instead of driving.”
“Oh Tate,” Audrey said softly.
He shook his head and went on. “I had to do a legal identification of the bodies.”
“Surely not, they knew it was your family,” Audrey interjected, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“I know, but apparently they had to have the next in bloodline to do it for it to be official,” he said, shaking his head. “It was horrible … I ended up puking all over the side of the building,” he whispered, tears escaping his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. “Seeing my baby sister bruised and lifeless was worse than seeing my parents, for some reason. She was going to be a famous dancer. She had planned to go on this dancing show in Europe as soon as she turned eighteen. She missed her birthday by thirteen days. All because some stupid idiot wanted to be reckless. He took her life and my parents from me. Three of the most amazing people were ripped from me, and I still haven’t recovered from it.”
Tate looked up at the ceiling, swallowing the sob that wanted to escape before he went on. “That’s why I freaked out tonight. I have an intense car anxiety. That’s why I really don’t sleep at night, because I see them lying there, cold, dead, when I close my eyes. I miss them every minute of every day.”
“Tate, I’m so sorry,” Audrey said, squeezing his hand while wiping her cheeks. “I wish I could make it all better. I promise, I’ll never drive like that again. I’m so sorry,” she cried.
“Thank you, love, but you have to understand that is why I freaked out on you. I would never scream at you like that, and I apologize, but I was scared for you. I’ve spent the last year and a half, empty, missing my family while trying to figure out how I was going to go on. Thankfully, I got this chance to come to the United States, and then to the Assassins. If I hadn’t, I never would have met you.” He cupped her cheeks with his hands, wiping away the tears with his long thumbs. “Audrey, I felt like I had nothing left, but you came along and changed it all. I can’t imagine losing you. I need you to know that.”
Shaking her head, she cried, “I couldn’t imagine losing you.”
“Then please, be careful, it takes a millisecond for something to go wrong.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that, and about your family. It must have hurt so much when I would bring them up.”