Page 55 of The Lies Always Told (Baker Oaks #4)

TWENTY-SIX

WASH AWAY THE PAIN

Restless Mind, Sam Barber Someone You Loved, Lewis Capaldi.

Nellie

Wash it all away. Wash it all away. That’s all I want.

To wash it all away. The day. The questions.

The news. All of it. Someone’s hurt, and it’s all my fault.

Cody’s brother, Josh, is in custody. Someone is hurt.

And what about Cody? Is he at home with his parents?

Is he at the hospital? Is he with foster parents?

Someone’s hurt. I wish more information was shared with me.

I know they have to protect everyone, I get it, but this not knowing, this not being able to control anything, is driving me wild.

The scalding water burns my skin, but at least it’s something. At least I’m feeling something more than numb—numb to today’s events, numb to the police interrogation, numb to the feelings, numb to it all.

My skin is raw from scrubbing, and if I don’t stop soon I will hurt myself.

It’s taking everything in me to actually stop and get out, but I do.

Hurting myself won’t fix anything. It won’t make it go away.

Get up. Dry your body, head to toes. Place the towel on the hanger.

Put on cotton pajamas. Slide slippers in.

All robotic moves I’ve done before, but I still tell myself each step.

I don’t need to do a lot, just follow each step.

I just need to put one foot forward and take it one step at a time, one action at a time.

I don’t remember walking to my room, but suddenly, I’m here.

The door clicks shut behind me, and the silence presses in like the deep pull of the ocean before a tidal wave strikes.

My bed is unmade, my blankets twisted from last night’s restless sleep, when I thought my biggest worry was whether I should or shouldn’t give Gus another chance.

Now, that might as well be miles away. The soft knock on my door brings me back to reality, and Mom walks in without waiting for me to give the go-ahead.

She’s worried, I can see it in her face as she brings me a mug and walks with me to my bed.

“I brought you some tea,” she adds with tears behind her eyes as she sits on the edge and holds my hand.

My hair is wet from the shower, cascading over my shoulders, still dripping tiny droplets everywhere, making my pajamas damp.

They look like tears falling on my shirt, but I don’t think I have any more left.

Someone’s hurt, and it’s all my fault. I can’t believe I didn’t connect any dots.

I can’t believe I didn’t talk to the principal about the conversation we had sooner.

Maybe I could’ve prevented it. Maybe nobody would be hurt.

“Nellie?” Mom asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“What? What?”

“I asked if you were okay. As okay as you can be, I guess,” she says again. She’s trying to be strong for me, I can hear it in her voice, but I can also hear the sorrow, the sadness, the worry.

“I’m okay, Mom. I just need to sleep.” Will I be able to? Only time will tell, but I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to think about anything.

“I have to ask… Are you safe?” I know what she’s referring to.

I don’t think she would ever stop worrying about me hurting myself.

It’s been years, almost a decade, but I know she blames herself.

Does she know there was nothing she could do?

It wasn’t her fault. I was going to do it anyway.

It was the only way I saw out back then.

“I am, Mom. I promise. I won’t hurt myself. Any word about who’s injured, though?” I ask. The school wouldn’t say anything. The only thing on the news is that it’s a teacher.

“Oh honey, he didn’t make it,” Mom replies. What? Someone died today?

“Who didn’t make it? Who was it? Do you know?” I sit up straight, put the tea on the night stand, and hold her hand. She looks at me like she knows, but she doesn’t say anything. Is it someone I know? Oh my God. “Mom, please.”

She hesitates. I can see it flash in her eyes. I can see it in the way her lips tremble and her shoulders stiffen. Her fingernails dig into the palm of her hands, just like mine would. That’s her tell. I hate that I know it all too well.

“Mom, please. I’m going to find out anyway. At least let me hear it from someone who loves me, from someone who cares about me.” From someone who won’t blame me, I want to say.

She lets out a sigh and says, “Nick.”

“Nick?” My voice trembles. Cara’s best friend Nick?

Natalie’s husband Nick? Oh lord, no. Bella’s dad Nick?

The words land like a crashing wave, swallowing me whole before I can even catch my breath.

Mom’s voice is soft, but the weight of what she says is suffocating.

Why? How? There are so many questions and very little answers, but Nick? Why?!

“I’m sure there will be more information tomorrow, but for tonight, you need to try to rest, honey. Cara is with Manuel, but we’re going to their house tomorrow if you want to come.”

Nick.

The name alone knocks the air from my lungs. Natalie’s pregnant. Bella is going to be a big sister. Oh lord, Cara grew up with him. They’ve been friends forever. Oh no, Jake. Their whole friend group. This town. Natalie and Nick are town royalty. Oh my God, Bella .

This is too much. It’s like standing on the beach, watching a tsunami rise from the horizon, knowing there’s nowhere to run. I can’t run. I can’t run. Nick is gone.

I don’t even feel my own breath until it comes back as a shudder.

Nick is dead.

I stare at my mom, but she’s already looking away, like she can’t bear to see me break. I hate that she’s bracing herself for my reaction.

Because she knows. She knows how this will destroy me. It was all my fault, and she knows it too. My body moves on its own, twisting toward her, and she holds me. She holds me in her arms, and I grip her like an anchor, but I’m already lost at sea.

Nick . My sorrow runs deep, killing my voice and coming out as a broken sob.

A husband. A dad. A friend. Gone.

I nod, but it’s empty, automatic, like my brain has stopped connecting thoughts to actions.

Tomorrow. Like it’s just another day. Like the world hasn’t just collapsed in on itself.

I cry, my head on her chest, surrounded by her love as I look at the floor.

I can’t look at her, I can’t look at anything.

My fingers tangle together, restless, around her.

It’s all my fault echoes in my mind, over and over again.

I should have seen this coming. I should have done something.

I missed all the signs. The thought slams into me out of nowhere, knocking me back, but I don’t fight it. I let it take me under .

Maybe if I had called in time. Maybe if I had checked in with Cody or asked more questions. Maybe if I looked into the notes more. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

“You’re going to be okay, Nellie. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Rest. I’m right here.” She repeats it over and over again like a mantra.

The guilt pulls me under, and I let it. I deserve it.

Tears burn the edges of my vision, but I don’t wipe them away.

I just curl up on her chest, pull my knees up, and try to make myself small, try to hold myself together when everything inside me is splitting apart.

I think about what my dad always said, about how tragedies come in three, about how I never saw this one coming because I was too enraptured in the waves of the other two—in the waves of life throwing blow after blow, even if it wasn’t in the shape of sadness, it lead to it regardless.

I close my eyes, succumbing to the darkness.

Shadows will stretch everywhere now, just like they’re stretching in my brain, like they’re stretching behind my eyes.

The air feels too thick, pressing down on me like the weight of the ocean.

I keep my eyes closed because the darkness behind my eyelids won’t be as dark as what will happen to that poor family.

To our school. To everyone. I let out a sob, and Mom holds me tighter.

It’s like I’m asleep and I’m in a nightmare.

Except, it’s not. It’s reality. The nightmare won’t stop.

Nick is gone, and it’s all my fault. Sleep doesn’t come easy, but eventually, exhaustion wins, and I drown.

A warm breeze brushes against my skin, making me toss slightly in bed.

The very warm and hard bed. It’s never like this.

Usually, I’m cold when I wake up because I’ve tossed and turned so much during the night, the blanket falls.

I look around and see I’m in my room, in my bed, but when my eyes dart down, there’s an arm wrapping me tight.

I must have fallen asleep in mom’s arms, and maybe she’s still here, because it’s so warm and heavy . Heavy? Is that her?

What the hell?

I turn quickly, a gasp escaping my lips as my eyes widen when Gus opens his eyes. “Gus?”

“Hey, Trouble,” he says. His voice is groggy and sleepy, just like his face. His eyes are heavy and lingering with something I can’t quite name. Compassion? Sadness? Worry?

“You’re here…” I whisper, blinking and looking around, trying to see if this is real, if he’s really here. Did my brain make him up because, deep down, I know what I needed was him? How did he know?

“What are you doing here?” I ask, scooting away from him, my back pressing against the wall, my hair falling over my face.

He brings his hand to my hair, tucking it behind my ear. He smiles and says, “You needed me.”

“What do you mean?” I say, searching his eyes for answers. Quickly, the memories from yesterday come to mind, fast, crashing like lightning and burning me from the inside out. I gasp, and Gus’ face softens. Tears immediately roll down my face. He knew. Somehow, he knew.