Page 103 of Our Darkest Summer

I exhaled slowly, my chest aching.

“And Connor… He must hate me.” His jaw flexed, like the words hurt to say. “He never should’ve been there... to hear all those things.” His gaze dropped slightly. “You never should have been there.”

My throat tightened. “Kevin’s with him,” I said. “Downstairs. And he’ll be fine, but… will you?”

His throat bobbed. “I put all of you in harm’s way. Eric. He could’ve killed you. Do you realize that?”

A ghost of cold against my scalp. The weight of a gun barrel against my head. I nodded, fighting the nausea that tried to drown me.

His jaw tightened. “You should be angry at me. You both should.” He let out a short, bitter breath. “Are you?”

I tipped my head slightly, shaking it.

Thomas scoffed. Like he was disappointed. Like he wanted me to be angry. Like heneededme to be. He let out a slow, shaking exhale. “Well, then it’s time to start, Sage. You’re too smart to be around someone who lets you fall into situations like this.”

A lump rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down. Then, I shifted closer. My hand curled around his wrist, the water still sliding down his skin. He didn’t pull away. I felt the heavy thrum of his pulse beneath my thumb.

Fast. Unsteady.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, brushing my fingers over his veins. “I’m so sorry, Thomas.”

He didn’t speak, but slowly, he turned his head, letting me see him. His eyes were rimmed red. His cheeks flushed. He wasn’t crying, but it was all there. Laid out bare. In the way his throat bobbed like he was swallowing down everything he couldn’t say. In the way his chest barely rose, barely fell. In the way he was holding himself still, like if he moved too much, he might fall apart.

I reached for the towel and wrapped it around him. And he let me. Thomas Rhodes let me care. He let me see every piece of him. Broken or not. His eyes never left me, his chest rising and falling with all the things he couldn’t put into words.

Then, his fingers moved around mine. Not gripping, not holding.Tangling.Like he wasn’t ready to let go. Like he didn’t want to. I creaked the door open, and his fingers curled between mine. Skin against skin. Warmth against warmth. I led him outof the bathroom, not because he needed me to. But because he let me. And after last night, after everything… that was something.

That waseverything.

Chapter Forty-Six

Thomas

One momentI was under the water, the next I was partly dressed with Kinsley holding my hand. She led me into the darkness, into my own mind, my own gaping soul, where the only light was her. All I saw, all I wanted to see, was her. She was here. Alive, breathing. Except it wasn’t because of me. If Samantha hadn’t been there?—

Swallowing felt like torture, yet I couldn’t bring myself to finish the thought. Instead, I let her lead me to my bed.

I’m so sorry, Thomas.

That’s what she had said. But it was me who was sorry. It was me who had fought to solve something that was lost so many years ago. I risked everything.Everyone.My walls, the ones I had built meticulously over the years, were shattering, piece by piece.

I tried to focus on her hand, the soft press of her fingers around my wrist. It felt like she was making sure my heart was still beating. She had no idea that the reason was because ofher. And the guilt that kept pushing blood into it. The guilt that I couldn’t protect my family. I failed. Over and over and over again. It was only a matter of time before everyone else realized it.

I shifted away, but her hand followed—stubborn and steady—her grip tightened around me as if she could anchor me here, with her, in this moment I didn’t deserve.

My throat burned. I looked up, meeting her eyes.

God, those eyes.

How could she still look at me like that? Like I hadn’t failed her?

She should hate me.

She almost died.

But she didn’t flinch. Didn’t waver. Didn’t turn away. Her gaze dropped to my bruised knuckles. She touched them so gently I could’ve sworn her fingers were made from feathers.

“We should treat these,” she murmured. “Would you like me to?—”