When the tow truck stopped, Jace looked up the side of the hill. There it was, on its side. The top of the cab was crushed in. Looking at it, he couldn’t believe his brother or Blythe were still alive. Fate had been kinder this time. Much kinder.
Jace sat down on a rock wanting to stay out of the way of the guys trying to figure out how they’d get the truck off the side of the mountain and back down the hill.
The view from this spot was beautiful. Beyond the trees that blanketed the Black Forest, the prairie opened up and spread out all the way to Kansas. To the south, the city of Colorado Springs lay sleepily beyond the confines of the Air Force Academy, and to the north, the skyline of the city of Denver was barely visible. The sky was so blue and the earth, so green around him. If only the beauty of this place had the power to overcome the horrific memories that haunted him.
Tucker blamed himself, carried the guilt around with him day after day. Jace buried it, denied it, tried to force it out of his mind whenever it crept back in. His biggest fear was that, one day, Tucker would feel it and realize it wasn’t his own guilt he was feeling; it was Jace’s.
“What are you doing?” Jace asked Tucker two days later.
“I’m leaving.”
“I know they said you were being released today, but has the doctor been in yet?”
Jace had brought Tucker clothes the night before, anticipating he’d go home today. He came in early enough that he’d be able to see the doctor too and find out what Tuck’s aftercare instructions were. His injuries were minimal, which was surprising given the state the truck was in. He’d suffered a concussion, and that was the biggest of Jace’s concerns.
“Tuck, what did the doctor say?”
Tucker didn’t answer.
“I’m not taking you home until we talk to him. Don’t be an asshole. Mama and Daddy are on their way, too.”
Tucker sat on the side of the bed. He only had to last a few more hours, maybe as long as a day or two, then he could escape.
He didn’t know where he’d go yet. Maybe Mexico. That was his only plan for now. And when he got there, he’d leave Tucker Rice behind. He had no intention of taking his past with him, and that included his name.
Yesterday, his parents told him Blythe was going to be okay. Her appendix ruptured in the accident, and that was why she’d been in surgery. She broke her right arm and right leg, both in several places. She would undergo surgeries to fix them when she was strong enough.
She was alive, but he still had to leave. He didn’t have a choice. He got the message. For a brief moment, he had believed he could love again. And then, minutes after he’d allowed himself to hope, it was stripped away. Blythe lived, but he’d heard the warning loud and clear.
The bones in Blythe’s right arm and right leg were shattered—multiple breaks and fractures in both. Her face was covered in cuts and abrasions from the truck window that had shattered the same way her bones had.
She woke once and saw someone sitting by her bed. At first she thought it was Tucker, but closed her eyes again when she realized it was Jace.
Her father told her Tucker was okay. He’d suffered a concussion and was expected to be released in a day or two. At least she thought that’s what he said. Everything was fuzzy. She couldn’t remember whether he’d actually said it or she dreamed it.
When she woke again, Jace was gone and Bree was in the chair he’d been in.
“Hey,” Bree said when she noticed Blythe’s eyes were open. “How are you feeling, Sleeping Beauty?”
How did she feel? As though she’d been rolled over by a truck. But from what they told her, she’d been inside the truck when it rolled. Sleep was the only relief she could get from the pain.
“Where’s Tucker?” she asked, without answering her sister’s question.
“He was released today, sweetie.”
Released. Maybe he’d come to see her later, or tomorrow. She let herself drift back into sleep. She’d see if someone could call him and ask, after she slept a little bit longer.
Brooke and her husband came to the hospital a little while later, to say goodbye before they went back to Germany. When Brooke lectured her about how none of this would have happened if she hadn’t been with Tucker in the first place, Blythe’s response was simple. “Get out,” she’d said, turned her head, and closed her eyes.
The only thing she wanted to know—and no one seemed to be able to tell her—was where Tucker was.
“How’s she doing?”
Blythe pretended to be asleep when she heard Jace talking to Bree.
“She’s getting there. She’s stopped asking about him.”
“We don’t know where he is,” Jace whispered.