Nothing Left to Burn

  “Reece!” Amanda screamed. “Oh my God, Lieutenant, are you okay?”

  “No, goddamn it, I’m not okay.” Dad covered his nose and tilted his head back.

  “Logan, ah, Christ. Didn’t I warn you not to bring family drama into my house?”

  I ignored them both and just glared at my father. “You think I don’t know you blame me for Matt’s death? You think I don’t care that Matt is gone? This is why I wanted to go!”

  “You should have—”

  “That’s enough!” Chief Duffy shouted. “Cadet, you’re suspended. One week. Leave immediately. Do not return until class starts the night of the second week, is that understood? And Lieutenant, you’ll shut your mouth right now or you’ll join him. Clear?”

  I shut my eyes, turned, and left the chief’s office without a backward glance.

  They were traitors. All of them.

  ***

  I stopped thinking.

  Off-line.

  Autopilot.

  Made it home. Ignored Mom. Ignored Tucker.

  Upstairs in my room, I locked the door and then slid down the back of it, all the way to the floor.

  Stayed there.

  Don’t swallow, don’t swallow. It burned—oh fuck! Pain in my throat, jagged edges over the white-hot blaze.

  She showed them my note. She showed them—showed him—and now it was gone. My entire plan. Everything I did, for nothing. I wasn’t done. Goddamn it, I wasn’t done. There was no point to any of it now.

  No fucking point.

  I uncurled the hand clenched in a fist, and it was there, right there, in my palm. When had I unlocked the box, picked it up? I didn’t remember.

  “Reece? Reece, open this door.” Mom pounded on my locked door.

  I stared at my hand, but it shook and blurred. I hid it, the key to my escape, back in its box, locked it, slid it under my bed, and opened the door. Mom shoved into my room, the dog on her heels.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  Mom’s face was white as a sheet, and the white-hot blaze in my throat got impossibly hotter. “Hey? That’s all you—” Abruptly, she bit back the rest of her question and started over. “Reece. Your father called. What’s this business about a suicide note?”

  “He called you?” I verified, sneering. “What for? It’s what he wants.” It was the wrong thing to say, totally wrong.

  Mom’s face went gray, and she grabbed me and pulled me toward her, gripping me the way I held Matt when he slowly bled out, gripping me so tight, it would have hurt if I wasn’t so numb.

  “No! No, don’t say that. Don’t ever say that!” She pulled away far enough to shake me. “He doesn’t want you dead, Reece. Never that.”

  “Then what, Mom? He sure as hell doesn’t want me as a son.”

  “I do.” She shook me again, hard enough to rattle my teeth. “Do you hear me? I do.”

  I looked at her, really looked at her, and she looked so, so…I don’t know, old. When had that happened? Mom was the most beautiful woman in the world. Now, there were lines on her face, gray in her hair, and fear in her eyes, the darkest fear I’d ever seen.

  And he’d put it there, not me, him. I hated him for that. I’d hate him for the rest of my life. I’d hate them both—Dad and Amanda. God, oh God.

  Sobs ripped out of my lungs like some alien creature leaving its host—loud, gasping rattles that echoed off the walls of my room. I tried to hold on, clutching Mom, Tucker pawing at me, but some tiny bit of black in me grew and eclipsed everything that I was and swallowed me whole, alive and screaming.

  “Reece, honey, breathe. Breathe now. That’s it.” Mom’s voice sounded like it was broadcast from the moon over cheap radios. Dimly, I felt her hand on my head, on my back. Stroke, pat, stroke. “Reece, I want you to come with me. Right now. Get up. Hold Tucker’s leash. Walk downstairs with me. Get in the car. Will you do that?”

  I lifted my head. It felt like it had its own gravity. Mom’s eyes were red from crying, and what was left of my heart shattered into pieces. I nodded, and she helped me to my feet. I took the leash. When did she clip it on? My limbs felt leaden. With her help, I made it down the stairs and into the backseat, where I closed my eyes.

  When I opened them again, I was in a hospital room, my hands strapped to the bed.

  Chapter 28

  Amanda

  Reece wasn’t in school the day after he decked his dad.

  Or the day after that. It was Wednesday now. Nobody really noticed he was gone, except for Bear and Max. At our lunch table that day, Bear broke the silence. “We should visit. Make sure he’s okay, you know?” The bell rang before anybody agreed.

  I grabbed my tray and dumped what was left into the trash, and Gage grabbed my elbow. “What happened to Logan, Man?”

  I didn’t meet his eyes.

  “Tick tock, Mandy.”

  “Okay, okay.” I threw my hands out and nearly smacked a sophomore on his way out of the cafeteria. “Sorry,” I called after him. “I showed Reece’s note to the chief. And to the lieutenant.”

  Gage’s eyes nearly exploded from his face. “You…oh my God. You didn’t.”

  “I did.” And I hated myself ever since Reece looked at me with those dark eyes of his, burning with betrayal.

  “Why? Why the hell would you do that?”

  Because I didn’t want to lose him.

  The truth struck me right in the solar plexus. Idiot! I was so stupid. I’d tried so hard to keep Reece from getting too close because I knew this would happen. He’d leave me; that’s what everybody did. The dad I never met, my mom, Mrs. Merodie… Every. Single. One. Left me. But Reece? He was different. Had been different right from the start. But this wasn’t just leaving.

  It was going.

  Forever.

  And even though I knew I had no right, I just couldn’t let that happen.

  My heart hurt, and tears burned in my throat, but I swallowed all that down and flicked a glance at Gage. He was staring at me pretty much the way Reece had, and I erupted. “Oh, come on, Gage! You were the one who told me about the stupid letter in the first place. You said Reece had issues. You Googled that one line and showed me, remember?”

  “So you showed it to the one person who pretty much created the situation in the first place?” Gage shook his head. “Way to go, Man. You probably ruined what was left of that guy’s life.”

  I froze while my stomach fell to the ground and I tried to remember how to breathe. “Well, thank you for all the support.” I shoved through the cafeteria doors, but Gage was right behind me. “You don’t even like him, so what the hell is your problem?”

  “Oh, don’t even pretend you did this because of me. You did this for yourself, and you still haven’t said why.”

  “I just told you! What if it really was a suicide note?”

  “If you thought it was, you should have showed it to someone who gives a shit about him, not someone who moved out of the fucking house to get away from him.”

  The late bell rang, and Gage took off at a run, his words echoing in the hall.

  ***

  After school, I walked to the station house and headed up to the chief’s office, but he wasn’t on-shift.

  “Hey, Amanda. What are you doing here?”

  I turned, saw Steve Conner standing in the door to his office, and shrugged. “Looking for the chief.”

  “He’s due in tonight.”

  “Good.” I nodded. “That’s, uh, good.”

  Steve angled his head. “Anything I can help you with?”

  Shrugging, I turned for the stairs. “No. I wanted to talk to him about Reece.”

  Steve sucked in a sharp breath. “Yeah, too bad about Reece. I liked that kid. Hope they let him out soon.”

  I froze. Let him out of what? “What?” I turned back. “Let h
im out?”

  “The hospital. John called his wife, and she took him to the hospital. For his own protection.”

  I pressed my hands to my gaping mouth.

  Jesus! What did I do?

  I turned and ran down the stairs, out the main exit, and skidded to a stop when I saw Lieutenant Logan sitting in his car on the street, a purple bruise under one eye. “What did you do?” I demanded as I stalked over and leaned into the open window. “What the hell did you do to Reece?”

  John shifted tired eyes toward me, then took another drag on the cigarette he pinched between his thumb and fingers. He looked away and shrugged. “What had to be done.”

  “You put him in a hospital?”

  He cut me with another tired look. “Was I supposed to let the stupid kid die?”

  I straightened up. “The stupid kid. That’s what you call your own son?”

  He sucked in more smoke, then sighed it out. “Look, Amanda, I did what I had to do. Let it be, okay?”

  “No. No, I will not. You treat him like he’s some pile of crap you stepped in. He’s your kid. Doesn’t that matter? Doesn’t it mean something to you that the only son you have left hates you so much he’s thinking of killing himself?”

  A fire sparked in John’s tired eyes, and he shoved out of the car, forcing me back a few steps. “Does it—of course it means something! I didn’t want this.”

  I folded my arms and glared. “Oh. You didn’t want this. Funny how you can say that after you did everything you could to humiliate him. To hurt him. To punish him for what happened to Matt.”

  John dropped the cigarette, crushed it viciously with his heel, and laughed without humor. “What happened to Matt was my fault, Amanda. I know Reece thinks I blame him, but I don’t and I never did. I’m the one to blame.” He thumped his chest. “I should have been there. I should have—” He broke off, shook his head, and covered his face with his hands.

  “Been a better dad?”

  Another laugh. “I tried. I tried so hard.” He dropped his hands and stared at me like he only just then noticed I was there. “You know what? I got things to do. Find someone else to play with.”

  He strode into the station house while I stared at the butt that smoldered on the ground, trying hard not to feel like I was the one stepped on and ground out.

  ***

  By Saturday morning, I wanted to run away.

  I still hadn’t heard anything from or about Reece. Bear hadn’t gotten any text messages. Neither had Alex. Gage thought I was evil, and even John Logan hated me. Mrs. Beckett woke me to start the chores for the weekend. Stripping beds, laundry, shopping. When we got home, I wanted to go for a run to clear my head.

  How did everything get so screwed up? I just wanted to help him, that’s all. It was supposed to be a cakewalk, because Reece has both of his parents.

  I didn’t, so there was no hope for me.

  Oh God, maybe it wasn’t him I was trying to help at all.

  I moved to my window and stared outside. I liked to think I had no ulterior motives—subconscious or not—but it was time to face the ugly truth. There was some sick and twisted part of me living vicariously through Reece. I covered my face, ran my hands over my hair, and blew out a long, slow breath.

  That’s when I saw Larry sneaking around the garage.

  The garage was at the rear of the Becketts’ property, a huge separate structure big enough for three cars, but it was never used for that. It was Mr. Beckett’s man cave or workshop or something. I wasn’t entirely sure, since we’d been warned repeatedly to stay out of it. He had the usual stuff in there—lawn mower, snowblower, rakes, and all the other gear you needed to keep up a house—so I didn’t see just what was so private about it.

  Mr. Beckett was digging a hole at the rear fence for some shrub he was planting. Larry pushed the wheelbarrow into the garage, poked his head out, and seemed satisfied that Mr. Beckett wasn’t watching him. He grabbed a jug of weed killer, shoved it deep under the crap in the wheelbarrow, and headed for the path that led to the front of the house.

  I quickly tiptoed to Larry’s room, which faced the front of the house. Mr. Beckett had a small mountain of mulch delivered that now sat in the driveway. But instead of shoveling mulch into the wheelbarrow, Larry took another careful look around, unearthed the jug, and stuffed it at the bottom of the trash can he would drag out to the curb tomorrow night. I tiptoed back to the window in my room. Mr. Beckett was still digging, and there was Larry, showing no sign of the secret mission he’d just executed.

  I sank down to the bed, rubbing my stomach where guilt tried to burn a hole. I had to go retrieve that plastic jug.

  Whatever was in it wasn’t weed killer.

  Which meant…

  Reece was right.

  Chapter 29

  Reece

  He was scared, Dad. I could see the wild terror in his eyes, feel it in the way he clutched my hands. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to leave me. Me, Dad. Not you. Me.

  I twitched in my bed and glanced at the clock for the thousandth time.

  “Reece?”

  I shifted my gaze back to Dr. Lewis and tried not to stare at the coffee stain on his tie. “No.”

  “No, what?” he prodded.

  “No, I don’t plan to do myself harm. No, I don’t think I need hospitalization, intervention, or medication. And no, I don’t believe I’m a worthless human being.”

  Dr. Lewis tried not to sigh, but I knew he wanted to. He’d been pressing me all day to confide in him. I didn’t know why the hell Amanda showed that note to the chief or my dad. How was this helping me? The only thing it did was scare the crap out of Mom and convince my dad he was right—and land me in this room.

  I wanted out of this place so badly, I ached.

  Dr. Lewis pulled a pen from the pocket of his lab coat and clicked it. He scrawled something on the chart hidden inside one of those metal covers. “Why did you write, I’ll be at his altar? You did write this, right? I’ll be at his altar until there’s nothing left to burn?”

  I resisted the powerful urge to slam the fucking metal cover on his fingers. “Because I wanted him to know, to grasp in his tight-assed, macho head, that he can’t hurt me anymore. I’m not waiting around for him to figure out he’s not winning any Dad of the Year awards from me. I joined the junior squad to impress him and reconnect with him and make him see me. The LVFD was his altar—his and Matt’s. All that mattered. I stayed because it’s mine now.”

  And that was pure truth.

  “And what about this—I’d kill to feel only sad right now. What did you mean?”

  Exactly what I wrote. Jesus, dude. How many years of school did this guy have to take for this shit? “I was sad when I was little. The constant rejection. The connection he had with Matt but not me. It was there. But after Matt died, it was more than just sad. Sad is too small a word to cover what hurts.”

  “Does it hurt bad enough to end it?”

  I laughed. “Still no, Doc. But nice try.”

  I was pretty sure I saw a twitch in his lip, but he controlled it.

  “Reece, do you understand why your parents were upset by this note?”

  Oh yes. Yes, I did. “No,” I said with a shrug.

  “Are you a Nirvana fan?”

  Shit.“Who?”

  “Nirvana.”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “It’s a band, actually. Their lead singer was Kurt Cobain. Ever hear of him?”

  “Yeah, he was with that Love chick.”

  “Courtney Love. That’s right. He wrote that same line in his suicide note.”

  I nodded and shrugged. “Huh. Guess I must have heard that somewhere.”

  Dr. Lewis wasn’t buying what I was selling. “You guess?”

  “I can’t name
a single Nirvana song, Dr. Lewis. I don’t think I could pick out a picture of Kurt Cobain. But I know the name, know the story.” A bead of sweat rolled down my back between my shoulder blades. I slouched lower in my bed and shut my eyes, desperate to be rid of the pimple on my ass that was Dr. Lewis.

  The metal cover snapped shut. I opened my eyes to see Dr. Lewis put the pen back in his pocket and stand up. “Okay, Reece. I’ll sign the discharge papers. You can go home, but I want to see you three times a week in my office.”

  My eyes swept around the room, and if I’d found a single sharp object, I’d have shoved it through this guy’s throat. I almost laughed. If they found out I was homicidal, what would they do to me then?

  Finally, the doctor left, and I let out a long sigh.

  “Thought he’d never leave.”

  I jerked at the sound of that voice, stunned to find my dad at the door. Damn it, there’s got to be something sharp in this room. “What the hell do you want?” I sat up and crossed my arms.

  Dad stepped inside and shut the door. “Wanted to see how you’re doing.”

  “Oh, just fine. Some of the other patients are starting a chess club and invited me to play.”

  Dad sighed. “Smart ass.”

  I jerked at that. I was never a smart ass. I was never able to talk to him, let alone mouth off to him…until now.

  He walked around my bed, dragged the chair closer, and sat. I shot a glance at my IV. Normal saline. Just my luck. They’d given me some excellent drugs earlier.

  The silence between us grew uncomfortable. Impatient, I cocked my head and waited for him to tell me what the hell he was doing here, but he just sat, staring at me.

  I stared back. We sat there, him staring at me staring at him, for five minutes, maybe ten, until I cracked. I burst out laughing. I laughed so hard, I couldn’t breathe, and when I finally caught a breath, I gasped out, “Jesus, if I’d known a suicide scare would get you to notice me, I might have actually tried it a long time ago.”

  Suddenly, two hands fisted around the ridiculous gown I had to wear, and Dad almost lifted me off the bed. “Don’t say that. Don’t you ever say it—don’t even think it, you hear me?” He gave me such a shake, I stopped laughing and looked at him.