crowds.
“There!” Sam pointed to a sign indicating they were close, and a soft hush fell in the car as Emerson headed in that direction. There was a certain heaviness in the air as the picturesque cliff came into view; it boasted about 1200 feet, which wasn’t as high as Cadillac Mountain, though he knew Rhys had already tackled that climb and usually enjoyed the lesser-known places.
Rhys’s gaze was peeled out the window, his silence almost reverent as he took it all in. Emerson wanted to ask if anything was jogging his memory, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment for him. Audrey must’ve had the same idea because he heard her quietly shush Sam as he was about to spout off some fact or statistic.
As they drove along the park loop, Emerson could almost visualize the ambulance trying to get around all the vehicles to race toward Rhys, who by that time would’ve been lying unconscious on the ground. In one of their later discussions at the hospital, Martin told him how his line had supported his weight as he was carefully lowered to the ground by his climbing crew as well as some others who’d stepped in to help.
Rhys had an awesome group of friends who took good care of him, but Emerson still couldn’t help imagining Rhys scared and alone that early dawn morning, even though he didn’t consciously know what was happening to him.
He’d thought of his parents in much the same way over the years, mostly when curled up in a ball at night, scared and going out of his mind. The officers had told him they’d died instantly in the crash, given how badly their car was totaled, but he’d often wondered if that was only relayed to soothe him. How in the hell he made it through those days afterward he didn’t know—it was a complete fog of misery.
On cue, Rhys’s fingers curled around his forearm to point out an area to park, and the memories slammed into him of those heartbreakingly tender nights when Rhys held him in his arms and whispered that he was safe so that he could shut his eyes for a few hours until morning. It made him want to entwine their fingers together. To let Rhys know how much he was cherished.
The moment was broken by Sam asking Rhys statistical questions about cliff-diving into the ocean, and it was just as well, as he pulled into a space and they exited the car.
As they moved toward the path that would take them to the base of the mountain, Emerson was struck by the sheer size of the structure Rhys had been brave enough to climb. And whereas it would’ve normally been old hat to Rhys, his reaction seemed to mirror Emerson’s own, his eyes widening as they lifted toward the sky.
“Whoa,” Sam said, staring up at the summit.
“Tell me about it,” Audrey chimed in as she curiously watched a group of climbers in helmets adjusting their ropes.
“Let’s get out of the way,” Emerson said, shuffling them toward a grassy area.
But Rhys was in his own world, and Emerson held his breath as Rhys stepped away from them and headed closer to the base of Hawkeye Hill. Audrey made the motion to join him, but he held her back, allowing Rhys to work through it on his own. He clenched his fists, hoping Rhys didn’t lose his balance, but he’d be right there if the man stumbled even a little bit.
After another few minutes, Audrey started helping Sam root around for interesting-looking rocks, most likely out of boredom rather than interest, as Emerson wandered toward Rhys.
He stayed out of the way, knowing Rhys was aware of his presence, and for now that was enough.
“Anything?” Emerson asked after a few quiet minutes, his pulse throbbing at his throat. It was fucking horrible to want something and not want something all at the same time. And that made him an asshole, because he wanted Rhys to finally remember everything so they could all get some closure, one way or another. But Rhys remembering, freaking out, and bailing on him again terrified him too.
“Nah,” Rhys replied solemnly. Emerson tried to catch his eye, but Rhys only offered him the cold outline of his profile. Though he could see his forehead crinkle as if in disappointment.
Rhys pointed upward. “Martin said a bunch of rocks were kicked up at the summit and fell over the side, one hitting me square on the head.”
Emerson