don’t know. Not sure I wanna be gone for months at a time.”
“You’re gone for months at a time?” I asked, my stomach sinking. I’d just gotten him back, and that sounded like torture.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “And I’m thinkin’ that wouldn’t work for either of us.”
A quiet knock on the bedroom door interrupted our conversation, and Mark slid off the bed to answer it.
“What’s up?” he asked, keeping his voice down.
“I apologize for the interruption,” Wilson replied, his voice equally quiet. “I have a flight in a couple hours, and I’d like to speak to you before I leave.”
“Alright,” Mark said. “Let me get dressed.”
The door closed again, and I rolled to my back to watch as Mark pulled on his clothes.
“He sounds—” I searched for the right word.
“Off,” Mark supplied. “Yeah, I know.” He came to me and kissed me, the soft peck turning naturally into a deep, satisfying tangle of lips and tongues. “I’ll be back in a bit. Try to get some more sleep.”
He left and I sighed, staring at the ceiling. There was no way in hell I’d be able to fall back asleep.
Ten minutes later, there was another knock on the door, and I knew who it was just by the sound of the knuckles hitting the wood. How many times had I heard that exact cadence? More times than I could count. I pulled on my clothes and took a deep breath as I opened the door.
“You were shot?” my mom said, staring at me in confusion, her face tear streaked. “Why the fuck wouldn’t you tell me? I’m your mother.”
“Come in,” I said quietly, glancing at Olive as I moved back into the room.
My mom followed me inside with my dad right behind her. As soon as he’d closed the door, I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands clenched together in my lap.
“Things were really bad,” I said, lifting my hand to stop my mom as she started to interrupt. “Things were really bad,” I said again. “And I didn’t want to make things worse for you.”
“Bumblebee,” my dad said, his voice full of censure. “It doesn’t matter how tough shit is, you can always tell us anythin’.”
“How did I miss it?” my mom said, still completely bewildered. “How did I not know?”
“I made sure you didn’t,” I replied. I swallowed hard. “It felt—” I searched for the right words. “inconsequential, compared to everything else.”
“That’s bullshit,” my mom said. “Jesus, CeeCee. How bad was it?”
“It was just a scratch,” I replied, reaching up to run my hand over the scar through my t-shirt. “I put a couple Band-Aids on it and it was fine.”
My dad ran his hands down his face, pressing his fingers into his eye sockets in frustration or disappointment—maybe both. “We fucked up,” he said, his voice strained.
“I didn’t want you to know,” I reminded him. “And I was old enough to hide it. I felt guilty that it was even there—it would’ve been a hundred times worse if someone had noticed I was hurt and made a big deal about it.”
“Why in God’s name would you feel guilty?” my mom said in confusion.
“Because I thought I’d saved Lily,” I said, the words burning my throat. “I didn’t realize I had Rose until we were behind the tree, and by then I couldn’t move. I couldn’t get to her.”
My dad made an inarticulate sound and turned his back to us, breathing heavily.
“Lily was across the yard,” my mom said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t get to her, either.”
“I know.”
We were quiet for a few moments, the room thrumming with emotion.
“Your grandparents took care of Lily,” my dad said, breaking the silence. He turned to face us. “I used to feel guilty about that, too. Couldn’t get to them. Couldn’t get to her. Couldn’t do a damn thing fast enough for it to matter.”
“Cody,” my mom breathed.
“Then I realized somethin.’ Feelin’ guilt, like I shoulda been the one to protect them, was disrespectful to the sacrifice that Gram and Slider and Vera made. ’Cause that’s exactly what it was. A sacrifice.”
I nodded, my nose beginning to sting.
“You saved your cousin,” he said, holding my gaze. “You were in exactly the right place and you saved exactly the right person. Your uncle and aunt woulda lost two children that day if you hadn’t done what you did.”
“I didn’t see it that way,” I said, blinking back tears and spreading my hands out, palms up. “All I