left until I was under the entrance awning of her hotel. Even when I got my car in park, Gemma didn’t move. She stayed still for a moment, her eyes reflecting the hotel’s green and blue neon sign.
Slowly, she rolled her head toward me, and her eyes were haunted—pools of horror I couldn’t imagine—accented with a patch of purple mirroring the one I’d seen on Carson’s face at the start of the summer.
“Please don’t be mad at Carson,” she said. “He was just trying to protect me.”
“I’m not mad at him,” I breathed. I was terrified. The Carson I’d seen in my driveway was not the friend I thought I knew. The Carson I knew never would have gone further than defending himself, never had the cold-blooded rage I’d seen in his eyes and in his actions. Who was that person I’d seen watching the life leave his dad’s eyes? Would he come back?
Gemma nodded. “You know when you guys were twelve and there was that party at that snobby girl’s house...Meredith?”
“Merritt,” I said.
She gave a tired smile. “Merritt. Carson asked all us girls for advice before the party on how to get you to like him.” She laughed softly. “We told him to pretend he wasn’t interested, and he said he just ate all night.”
The memory of him and the snack bar was still fresh. It made my lips turn up and my eyes water at the same time.
“He’d do anything for you,” she said and peeled herself out of her seat. The action seemed to require all of her strength, and I asked, “Do you need me to walk you up to your room?”
She shook her head. “We Cook women learn how to deal with the bruises.”
There was a bitter irony in her voice that sent an ache straight to my heart. “I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what I was apologizing for. I couldn’t fix their situation. Couldn’t change the family they were born into.
With a slight wave, she walked through the hotel’s sliding doors.
After her form had disappeared around a corner, I reached for my phone. Part of me was hoping to see a text from Carson. Some kind of explanation for what had happened or why he hadn’t let up when he’d clearly won against his father.
No new notifications waited for me. I even got on social media, hoping against all hope there would be a message there. Instead, I found something worse. An update showing Carson’s relationship status had changed to single.
My heart shattered all over again, but I couldn’t even cry. I was numb, in shock maybe, about what had happened. And even worse, I was a tiny bit relieved. I knew I should have been able to love Carson through what I saw, been on his side, but how could I give all of myself to someone, trust someone entirely, when I didn’t even know all of who he was? We’d been best friends for eight years, and he’d hidden a part of himself so well I’d only just now seen it. What else lay beneath the surface?
I drove home, not even a single tear slipping down my cheek, but when I found myself in the safe place of my bed, looking at the closed curtain and knowing I’d never see my best friend through it again, I fell apart.
I sobbed until there was nothing left of me but tears and pain, and then slowly, mercifully, that pain led me to sleep.
I woke in the morning to a soft shake on my shoulder. My eyelids scratched over my dry eyes as I rolled over to see who’d come. Joe stood by my bed, one arm across his chest.
“Hey, Cal,” he said softly.
He knew. I wasn’t sure how, but I could see it in his stance, hear it in his voice, and it brought moisture to my eyes all over again.
Slowly, he sat on the edge of my bed and put a hand on my shoulder. “How are you holding up?”
I gave him a look. My puffy eyes could tell him all he needed to know.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “Is there anything I can do? Do you need me to beat him up or something?”
The comment was too close to home, knowing Carson probably had bruises to match Gemma’s right now. “No, it’s fine.”
“Is it?” he asked.
Slowly, I shook my head, blinking quickly to hold back another flood of tears.
He rubbed my shoulder. “Should I have Mom call into work for you?”
“No.” Because