Page 117 of Severed Heart (The Ravenhood Legacy #2)

Chapter Sixty

T YLER

B LINK .

Zach tightens the bolt as I watch on, pride filling me for his progress, even as the gnaw that’s been tugging at me since we left for King’s this morning threatens to again set in.

The two of us ordered to march by our general, thrust away from her bedside after pancakes, and her insistence we get ‘sun on our faces.’ A sun which remains concealed under the blanket of clouds hovering over the garage outside of the bay.

Batting down the unease that’s been threatening since we left her, my solace is found in Zach’s answering grin when I commend him, knowing he finds the same satisfaction in fixing things the way I do.

Another commonality we’ve been bonding over recently while doing maintenance on the equipment at the farm.

This spring fighting for every bloom as winter temperatures continue to linger.

Over the long, cold season, and as Delphine started to take more frequent, lengthy naps, I taught him the ins and outs of hunting, which also had us gravitating more toward each other.

Though his grins have become scarcer in recent months.

Fewer and far between, as have mine because of said nap frequency while Delphine began to dissolve before our collective eyes.

Every smile between us now hard-won while rewarding in its own right.

The kid I collided with months ago in this garage vastly different now in demeanor and appearance than the one I’m stealing glances of this morning.

A kid who speaks so little, yet knows so much, as I marvel at the changes in him, and the knowledge Delphine was right.

Zach is a genius.

According to his first staggering aptitude test results, as well as his fifth—which annoyed him—he’s got the potential of becoming a Rhodes Scholar and beyond. Not that we ever doubted his intelligence, it was just the opposite, and it’s now confirmed.

Delphine had known he was special, that he had potential we probably hadn’t realized, but he’d tested off the charts.

For weeks now, I’ve been pondering big decisions when it comes to him.

Along with having lengthy conversations with Delphine about how to move forward in raising him.

Daily, I’m becoming more impatient to start the conversation I’ve been mulling over, while growing more eager to pose the question.

“Are you happy living at the orchard, Zach?” I blurt outright, while marveling over the truth that some things work out for the better—no matter where they stemmed from.

Or how they might work out if Zach agrees to claim the place Delphine and I have made in our home and our hearts.

Now unable to imagine what these past months would have been like without him.

The idea of finally having the talk staving off the gnaw that’s trying to sneak its way back in.

Pausing the tool, he looks over to me for motive to see my inquiry is genuine before releasing an easy reply. “Yeah, I am. Your family is awesome. I love Barrett and Charlie, but Jasper and Jessie are a trip,” he laughs.

It’s your family too, if you’ll have us.

But instead of voicing my thought, I keep it light. “I’m ashamed to admit I don’t know my younger cousins very well,” I tell him honestly.

“Because you never come to the Sunday baseball games,” he reminds me.

I nod. “I’ll make it a point to come to the next one.”

“They would love it. They ask about you all the time.”

“It’s crazy that you know my family better than I do.

” I grin. “But I’m glad you know that—” The premonition takes over mid-sentence, the gnawing crashing over me in a tidal wave a nanosecond before my cell phone buzzes in my pocket.

Or maybe it’s simultaneous. Either way and without looking to see who’s calling, I identify the gnawing.

Knowing it to be a certainty because I feel it in every fiber of my being now— she’s leaving me .

She’s leaving me.

“Tyler, what’s up man? Tyler,” Russell sounds, jarring me from the darkness shrouding my vision as Zach’s eyes dart to mine.

“Fuck.” I lower my eyes to my watch to buy time, summoning the expertise of the liar within for my biggest trial yet. “I just forgot I had to pick up that part from Spellman’s by ten this morning. Shit. Russell, can you take me? I’m going to let Zach stay back and work on my truck.”

Reading into my lie instantly, Russell pulls out his keys, an easy “sure” leaving him as Jeremy, standing a bay over, speaks up, following as well. “I’ve got him, bro,” he assures, giving nothing away as I glance back at Zach.

“You good for twenty?”

Zach nods, his eyes lingering too fucking long as I will myself the strength to pull this off, keeping my steps measured as Russell and I stalk toward the parking lot.

It’s when the reality of what’s happening registers a mere step outside of the garage—the truth of it far too debilitating—that I trip up, stumbling between strides.

She’s leaving me.

Russell catches my slip instantly, hoisting me against him. A heartbeat later, Zach speaks up with a “Can I come?”

“Next time,” I call out from Russell’s passenger door before I snap it closed, managing to clip out my order. “Get me home.”

Within a blink, Russell is whipping us out of the parking lot and has us idling roadside.

As a car passes, blocking our quick exit, my eyes dart to Russell’s rearview—to the kid now running towards us before Russell stomps on the gas, turning in the direction of the orchard.

As we take off, Zach’s shouts and pleas seep through the passenger glass, and straight into my seizing heart.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper to his reflection, “I’m so sorry,” I choke out as Zach piles his hands on his head, face twisted in anguish.

Knowing he feels betrayed, I try to make peace with our future fallout, to protect him from one of life’s biggest cruelties.

To keep his last memory of her as one of us departing her room, smiling as she shooed us away, her own attempt to protect us both.

That truth setting in as Russell races me toward the orchard.

Toward home. A home that’s disappearing as the seconds tick by and a mental image of our front door shutters in, as do dozens of images of her on either side of it.

Of the first time she raced to it with the key in hand.

As she grinned over at me while lining the kitchen shelves with paper.

Of her meeting me at the tractor with tea.

Of the two of us bundled on the porch swing to watch the sunset last night, squeezing one another’s hands tightly—knowing.

Knowing today was coming. All those memories reflecting in eyes of silver, in the call of my name.

The call of home. One I can hear so clearly now.

“Soldier,” she summons, finding me as she always does in the dark.

“I’m on my way,” I whisper back. “Please don’t go.”

“Soldiers don’t stay,” I hear eighteen-year-old me echo back through to the first time I asked her to wait—just as she asked me to stay.

“Tyler,” Russell says in a steady voice, “talk to me.”

“Delphine’s about to die,” I deliver point-blank to both of us.

“How do you know?”

“I just do, please,” I croak, “get me home.”

“Jesus, man, I’m so—”

Shaking my head adamantly to cut off any condolences, I issue my first order.

“Call Tobias and Dom—” I cut my words as he stares over at me, realizing just how far I’ve already slipped as agony lances through me.

I’m already traveling to the place the sensible me can’t reach.

Dom’s not here to call. He’s not here. Dom’s gone too.

Everything feels gone ... feels wrong. She’s dying. She’s leaving me.

Go.

GO.

GO!

Russell’s words filter in from somewhere in a faraway place. In response, I grip the handle of his door and clip out my order. “Repeat that.”

“I’ll call Tobias . . .”

“Soldier,” Delphine summons.

“... hold everything down. Don’t give it a second thought,” Russell assures. “Don’t lose a second worrying about us, brother.”

I nod as a tidal wave of awareness crashes into me. The next time I see Russell, she’ll be gone. The next time I drive my truck, she’ll be gone. Everything will change. Everything has already changed.

Darkness threatens to engulf me, but I order its release just as quickly, refuting its ability to claim me.

It’s Russell’s curse before he barks my name that brings me somewhat back to.

His words becoming more muffled as my ears thunder, filling with my pulsing heartbeat.

Spinning, I’m fucking spinning out, and she needs me.

As I fight to keep myself upright in my seat, Russell presses his palm into my chest. “Tyler, you good? You just blacked out, man.”

“Get me to her,” I beg, “please,” I add, knowing I need to gather myself to be there for her, for Zach, but I can feel my ability to balance has already left me.

“Tyler!” Russell shouts as I blank out again, feeling myself sink in the seat.

In the next second I’m focused on the asphalt we’re consuming as Russell races us toward the orchard, somehow already engaged in a phone call.

I pull my own cell out of my pocket, unsure if I want to know if she’s already gone.

Utterly helpless, darkness again threatens to cloud my vision as my psyche begs me to allow it in.

To blink myself out of the state I’m in.

I kissed her before I left. Told her I loved her.

Palmed her head and whispered my fingers over her crown.

Did she feel it? Did she feel my love? Would what I left her with be enough?

My chest rages with the answer as I speak to her God.

Please, please don’t take her yet. Let me say goodbye. It’s my one ask. One. If you’re there, this is all I’ll ever ask of you.