Page 51 of Duress (Birch Falls #3)

EVERLY

I t’s been three weeks since the police officially closed the investigation into Bryce’s death.

It was ruled self-defense during a domestic dispute once all the evidence was examined, and I had to recount the events of the altercation so many times I thought I was being forced to relive it as some sort of hellish Groundhog Day-esque punishment to atone for my part in things.

Despite the brave face I put on for Dane the day I said goodbye to him, I’m a wreck.

Falling apart at the seams, held together only by sheer force of will not to let Bryce win.

Sleep has been hard to come by. The nightmares of a ghoulish zombie Jake begging me to tell the truth have been replaced with Bryce straddling my chest, choking the life out of me with dark eyes burning with anger.

I wake up sweat-soaked, heart trying to burst through my chest, adrenaline pumping through my veins almost every night.

The first time I had the nightmare, I vomited on the carpet next to the bed, then wound up curled in a fetal position, sobbing until exhaustion forced my eyes to close, letting me drift off into a mercifully dreamless sleep.

That was the last time I slept in the house I shared with Bryce.

I finished packing up the rest of my belongings, hired an auction company to handle the sale of the rest of Bryce’s estate, and moved into Ana’s guest house.

Nightmare Bryce still haunts me, but waking up in the chic, airy space of the minimalist but somehow trendy guesthouse makes it easier for me to remind myself that it isn’t real.

That he can’t hurt me any longer. I can more easily fall back to sleep.

Every day it gets incrementally better. I have hopes by the time I turn forty I might actually be sleeping through the night again.

I’m bleary-eyed, waiting for my chai latte at Brewed Awakening, when I hear a familiar voice call out my name. I look up, expecting to find the barista holding my to-go cup, but they’re still busy frothing milk behind the counter.

“Everly? Is that you?” A tentative voice floats toward me from the front of the cafe.

Turning, I see Caroline standing at the entrance, looking as pale and as broken as I am.

Dark circles ring her bloodshot eyes. She looks like she’s sleeping as well as I am.

I freeze, unsure of how to respond. Does she hate me for killing her son?

For not talking to her after? Is she going to yell at me?

Scream curses at me for being so callous and not checking on her?

I took the coward’s way out in giving Dane Bryce’s remains to pass on to his mother, but what does one say to a woman grieving the loss of her child, when that child tried to kill them ?

“Caroline…I…umm…” My mouth opens and closes, as my brain fails to come up with the appropriate greeting.

“Hi, good to see you. Sorry about killing your son?”

“Hey, sorry I’ve been MIA, but your son was a piece of shit, and I didn’t know how to act around his grieving mother.”

“I’d say I’m sorry but…”

Instead, when the barista calls my name, I take the escape route offered and turn away from her to grab my latte, praying she isn’t about to announce to the crowded coffee shop that I’m the callous monster who killed her son and doesn’t even have the decency to apologize for it.

When I turn back around, she’s still there, between me and the exit, looking sad.

Tired. Broken. But not angry. There isn’t a hint of anger in her expression.

“Can we talk, Everly?” Her question is hesitant, like she’s fully expecting me to tell her no. To continue to ignore her pain and sorrow so I can avoid the tsunami of guilt I should feel for killing her child.

I inhale a fortifying breath, girding myself for the conversation I don’t think I’m ready to have. That I’ll never be ready to have. “Sure, Caroline.” I nod and force my face into an expression that I hope resembles something sincere and empathetic, not the pained grimace it feels like.

She leads us to a table for two in a small alcove hidden by shelves full of books and plants.

Brewed Awakening’s mismatched, eclectic style creates lots of little nooks and privacy for their patrons so they can work in peace during busy hours.

Right now I’m grateful we won’t have an audience for what is about to be the hardest conversation I’ve ever been forced to have.

We sit, silence stretching between us for what seems an eternity.

I stare down at the paper cup in my hands, focusing on the little sticker featuring a cartoon fox drinking a coffee that covers the opening of the lid.

I feel the tell-tale burn of tears threatening and I close my eyes in a futile attempt to fight them off.

If anyone deserves to cry right now, it’s Caroline, not me.

Soft, warm fingers wrap around mine, prying them away from the death grip they have on the paper cup that is perilously close to being crushed and spilling hot chai everywhere. “Dane told me what happened. I’m so sorry, Everly.”

My head snaps up at her words, bewildered by her apology.

“Why are you sorry? I’m the one who should be sorry, Caroline?—”

“I’m sorry for who Bryce turned out to be.

I tried so hard to raise him to be a good man but he still turned into his father.

” Now I see the tears shining in her eyes, shame written all over her face, like somehow this was all her fault.

That she was a failure as a mother. Knowing how Dane turned out, I know nothing could be further from the truth.

“Caroline.” I want to say something, to tell her it isn’t her fault, but she shakes her head, cutting me off again.

“Brian used to cheat on me. He traveled for work a lot and had mistresses in multiple cities. When I found out, he apologized and begged me to stay. I did, because we had Bryce. I was young, only worked part-time, and was scared of supporting the two of us on my own. ”

My heart cracks at Caroline’s confession, knowing exactly how cold and alone she must have felt then.

“Things were okay for a while, but eventually I discovered another affair. When I tried to leave with Bryce, Brian called in a favor with some buddies in the PD and had me arrested for parental abduction. He threatened to take Bryce away from me if I ever tried to leave him. Brian had a lot of powerful friends in the right places in town, and I knew he could carry out his threat.”

There is a damp heat on my cheeks, and I realize I’m crying. Not for myself or my shame, but for Caroline and the misery she must have endured, being trapped in a marriage like that. I only knew a fraction of the suffering she must have felt being trapped with a child.

“Then Jake came along and…things got better.” A small smile ghosts her lips for the briefest of moments.

“We fell in love. Dane came along. Brian left.” I can see the shadow of happier memories flicker across her face.

I know she’s leaving a lot out, but I won’t push her for the more painful details.

“Bryce had a hard time with his father leaving. Brian just abandoned us when he found out Dane wasn’t his.

I tried so hard to be everything Bryce would ever need.

Mother and father. Jake did his best to treat Bryce as his own, but the wall was erected the moment Brian left without so much as a goodbye to us.

To him, Dane was born, Jake showed up, and he didn’t have a dad any longer.

He was twelve years old. An awful time for a boy to lose a parent. ”

My lower lip trembles, my heart breaking for the boy Bryce used to be.

Knowing the full truth behind his childhood and dislike for Dane and Jake finally makes everything click into place.

I feel the mental picture I have of him morph and shift like one of those terrible before and after plastic surgery transitions and realize just how long he was manipulating me.

My blood runs cold, causing goose bumps to erupt over my skin.

Was any of it true? Did he ever love me?

He acted like his mom cheated on his dad, causing him to lose his loving and doting father.

The news of his dad being an abusive manipulator rocks me to my core.

Did he know? Surely he remembered his mom getting arrested?

Did he know and still make Jake and Caroline out to be the guilty party?

“I had no idea, Caroline. I knew Bryce had a strained relationship with Jake, but he always implied it was because of the affair you had.”

Caroline nods, like she expected my response. “I never told Bryce how his father treated me. We pretended to be a happy family for a while after the arrest. I took all the blame for that; maybe that was my mistake. Not letting Bryce know the truth about what kind of man his father was.”

This time I grab her hand and squeeze. “No, you were trying to protect your boy. You were doing what you thought was best.”

“I’m heartbroken that things ended for Bryce the way they did.

I tried so hard to love him enough, to love the hurt and anger and abandonment away, but there was something broken in him that couldn’t be fixed.

I’m so, so sad for the boy I raised. I just want you to know, I don’t blame you.

Please don’t blame yourself. I’m doing my best to do the same.

My therapist has been helping me work through it.

It’s been rough, but…it’s helping. If…if you need someone to talk to, you should call them.

” She pulls a business card out of her purse and pushes it into my hand.

My lips press together in a thin line as I bite back the urge to full on sob now.

“I need to go, I’m going to be late for my appointment with Dr. Perkins.

Everly, please take care of yourself. I still consider you my daughter.

” She gives my hand one final squeeze and vacates the table, leaving me to process this emotional tsunami building in me in private.