When Stars Collide (Light in the Dark #2) - Micalea Smeltzer Page 0,82
thought.
Since I’m more brazen than Cade, I stride forward and yank the covers off my mom. She cowers away like the minimal light in the room sears her skin.
“Get up. Shower. And put some clean clothes on.” I glance back at Cade and mouth tough love.
She doesn’t move and she looks up at us with bleary, tear-filled eyes. “I couldn’t protect Gabe and I couldn’t protect you two. I’m a horrible mom and I don’t deserve you.”
I wince like I’ve been shot.
Gabe.
My little brother. I never think about him. It’s too difficult to think about that big gaping hole in our life. A hole that’s my fault. All because I wanted to go horseback riding on that stupid vacation. If I’d never begged and pleaded to go, he wouldn’t have died. He’d still be here and we’d still be a family. A whole family and not a fractured one built up with hate, hurt, and lies.
My heart stutters inside my chest as I think about the little boy we lost before we even got to know him. He was only eight.
“Mom,” my voice cracks. “There was nothing you could do. It was my fault.”
“Thea,” Cade says softly, resting his hand on my shoulder. I shake it off. “It was a freak accident.”
“If I hadn’t begged for us to go horseback riding it wouldn’t have happened!” I shout. “He wouldn’t have fallen off his horse,” I say softer, losing steam, “and he’d still be here with us.”
Tears prick my eyes.
If I think back on it, that’s the day when things changed for good.
My dad was already an asshole, but after that he had an even bigger reason to be a jerk, and my mom? That day broke her, and she hasn’t been the same since. She became over-bearing, and uber critical and turned a blind eye to everything Dad did.
“My fault,” my mom says from the bed, her body shaking. “No, it was my fault. It was all my fault.” Her eyes grow clearer and she grabs my hand with surprising strength. It’s then that I notice how thin she’s become. This isn’t sudden thinness, either, it’s obvious this has been happening for a while, and I wonder what her life has been like left alone with Dad the last year. “I should’ve left him a long time ago. If I’d left him when I should have Gabe would still be here.”
Cade steps forward, his presence crowding behind me.
“It’s neither of your faults and you have to let it go. Gabe wouldn’t want you blaming yourselves.”
Tears burst from my eyes when I think of Gabe’s sweet cherubic face and his wide round eyes. I know Cade’s right. That kid … He was a goofball and the sweetest thing ever and he wouldn’t want us blaming ourselves. That’s why I never try to think about him, because when I do, guilt floods me and nearly drowns me in its depths.
“And Mom,” Cade says, “you’ve left him now, that’s what matters. Just please, please don’t go back to him.”
She doesn’t respond, but I hope that his words have gotten to her.
I wipe my tears off my cheeks, sniffling. I hadn’t been expecting a cry fest when I came in here.
“I think we should get her in the bath,” I tell Cade. “She smells like a rotting carcass.”
Cade gives me a horrified look. “You’re on your own with that.”
I glare at him. “At least help me get her into the bathroom, and I’ll do the rest.”
He sighs. “I can do that.” He picks her up easily and she looks so small in his arms and I realize now that she’s even smaller than she looked in the bed and it’s scary. She’s no more than skin and bones.
Cade gets her into the bathroom and promptly leaves.
I sigh. It isn’t going to be fun, but I have to do what I have to do.
An hour later, she’s clean and dressed in real clothes with her hair brushed. She looks human and not like a sewer rat, so I take that as a win.
“Come downstairs and have something to eat.”
“I’m not really hungry,” she replies, shuffling for the bed.
“Oh, no you don’t.” I grab her hand and halt her progress. She gives me an indignant look. “You need to eat,” I argue. “No offense, but you look like shit.”
She sighs. “Always so eloquent, Thea.”
“I try.” I give her a little nudge toward the door and she reluctantly goes.