A California Christmas (Silver Springs #7) - Brenda Novak Page 0,132

done nothing, other than shout for Robert to leave. He felt as though he’d let them both down. But if he had done something more, it would’ve hurt Aiyana, someone else he loved, who’d been there, too, pleading with him. The opposing sides—the anger from the past and the desire to heal and be normal—warred with each other until he thought he’d be torn in two.

Tears streamed down his face by the time he reached the top. Staggering to a halt, he bent over, struggling just to remain on his feet. “Jenny!” he yelled as though she could step out from behind a tree. “Jenny!”

He fell to his knees as his own voice echoed back to him and grabbed a handful of dirt, letting it slip through his fingers. He owed her so much that he could never repay, and the fact that he’d done nothing when Robert appeared turned his stomach to acid.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I’m so sorry.” But he knew he was apologizing for more than what he hadn’t done this morning. He was apologizing for being alive, for the fact that she’d felt it was necessary to protect him, for the fact that she might’ve been able to hide or escape herself if she hadn’t been so worried about him.

“God, Jenny,” he cried, his voice growing hoarse. “Every day, I wish it was me instead of you.”

A cold wind whistled through the trees. He hadn’t bothered with a coat, and he was wet, dripping with perspiration. But he couldn’t feel it. In his mind, he kept seeing his father come up the walk, over and over, and wondered what he could’ve done differently to make it so that he would hate himself less.

That was when he remembered Brian saying something he’d tucked away like a gold coin or other precious keepsake: I love you like a son.

Rocking back on his heels, he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“I was just about to call you,” Brian said as soon as he answered. “But you beat me to it. I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas.”

Dallas couldn’t answer. He was too choked up.

“Dallas? You okay? What’s going on?”

“My dad...” He only got that far before his emotions sealed off his throat.

“What about your dad?” he asked. “That bastard had better not have done anything else!”

Dallas squeezed his eyes closed as he fought to be able to speak. “He just showed up, out of the blue,” he managed to say. “I...I should’ve done something, but I didn’t. I just yelled for him to leave.”

“Done something?” Brian echoed. “Done what?”

Dallas swallowed hard. “I don’t know. Something for my mom and Jenny—”

“And gone to prison yourself?” Brian snapped. “That’s bullshit. Who would that help? Certainly not them. They’re gone, Dallas. You have to let them go.”

“I...can’t,” he said simply. “I see Jenny...all the time. I miss her. I wish... I wish it had been me he’d shot.”

“That’s crazy.”

The last spate of psychologists Aiyana had taken him to had harped about vanquishing the guilt he carried, which was why he’d refused to go back. He couldn’t let himself off the hook that easily. He was afraid he’d be no better than Robert if he did. “She should...still be here.”

Brian’s response was stern and immediate. “That’s true. But it’s not your fault she isn’t.”

“It is,” he shouted into the phone. “If she hadn’t been trying to protect me, she might’ve escaped.” There. He’d said what he’d been holding back since it all happened. Those words had been torn from him, but the release was instantaneous. He blamed himself as much as his father for Jenny’s death—for good reason.

“You don’t know that, Dallas. And even if it’s true, it wasn’t a willful act on your part. You were six years old! She did what she did because she loved you. Don’t waste her gift by making yourself miserable, especially on her account. Do you think she’d want that?”

Of course she wouldn’t want that, but...

“I’ve watched you over the years,” Brian went on. “You hold back, deny yourself the love other people want to give you. And for what? Is it helping Jenny? Or your mother? No. Quit punishing yourself for surviving when they didn’t. Leave it in the past, and live large and happy because that’s the way they’d want you to live. Do it for them, if not for yourself.”

Dallas was hunched over, staring at the ground as he listened to Brian. He’d recovered enough from all the physical exertion that