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Chapter 24 Damon POV

Three months have passed, and people are acting as if it's been six months or even a year. They might have felt the time has gone by quickly but people seemed to forget my physical therapy finished only two weeks ago. My family may have had hopes I would grieve and be almost to my old self. As if I didn't just lose my fucking future and they are wrong.

I am not ok with losing everything, but I have found something to pour my energy into. Something to feel I can help make sure it never happens again to anyone.

My plan is to become a doctor; I am specifically focusing on Maternal-fetal medicine and Pediatrics. I have found some early college programs like what Lucian did, and I can start in a couple of weeks. The upside of only focusing on school is that my grade point average is up there with Lucian's. Who knew I was actually smart. But this means I have to chat with my parents because they have to sign off on my double class load.

"Damon," Sam greets me as she climbs next to me in my bed.

I raise my brow at her.

"Don't try that silent treatment on me. I know you are talking again. Lucian tells me all about it."

I roll my eyes, "What do you need, Red?"

"I was thinking about asking Lucian if he wanted to go with me to tour Evergreen State College and Seattle University."

"Okay, why don't you just ask him?"

"I don't want to fight again about my school choices; we are finally getting along and not bringing it up."

"You are about to graduate, and he's planning on going to Harvard, and you're staying here, you will have to talk about it more. I think this would make him feel better about being part of the process." I reply a little annoyed at her and my brother with this ongoing insecurity.

I sit up, my thoughts turning to my little brother. I wonder if Wyatt is up from his nap yet. It has been about an hour, and I should get a snack around for him.

"Damon, where did you just go?" Sam sits up next to me. Her piercing eyes scan over my face.

"Lucian is a lucky guy." I blurt out.

She gives me a soft smile, "Yeah, he is, but I doubt that is what you were thinking about."

"Wyatt will probably wake up soon, and I should get a snack around for him. He must be going through a growth spurt or something as much as he has been eating." I am on a roll with chatting to Sam today. Usually, I grunt one-word answers at her.

I should shut up, but it's kind of pleasant talking to her. It's nice talking to anyone. That therapist just talked about steps for grieving, and I just don't want to deal with it. I guess maybe I am currently in denial.

Sam looks away, "Maybe you should let your dad or mom get him. They're home. You and I can go shopping or something."

I scrunch up my face, "Don't you want to do that with my brother?"

Shaking her head, "Nope, I am always with him. Today I want to hang with my best friend."

"What?" I couldn't believe it. Is she my best friend? I think over the last year, and we have become close, especially lately. I might not have chatted much, but she was there for me and hung out with me when she wasn't with Lucian or working. Shit.

"You are my best friend, for real. Don't know how it happened, but it did so today I need friend time." Sam looks at me, expectantly.

I feel my body tense up; I know it's not relational, but I don't want to go shopping, but I can concede that my mom or dad can get Wyatt.

"Maybe we can get lunch. I don't know about shopping."

"Okay, let's get out of here."

I snort. I can't believe I'm doing this.

As if she heard me, "It will be fun. You need to get out a little at a time and going to school does not count."

I don't answer. I let her go on as we head out of the house. Not before my dad chokes on his drink when I tell him I am leaving to get lunch with Sam.

"Okay."

Nibbling my lip. "Wyatt likes apples and grapes when he gets up from a nap."

He coughs and nods. "I will make sure he gets them."

I know he is our dad and knows how to take care of my baby brother, but this deep-seated need to make sure he's taken care of overrides my rational thought. I don't want to think about why it occurred only after the accident.

"Okay." I nod then wave before following Sam out of the house.

"I know you really aren't there yet to talk about them, but when you are, know I am here for you." Sam starts her car.

I lean back into the seat. "No, I'm not. I know everyone is ready for me to be ok, but I don't think I ever will be."

AFOC

Lunch with Sam was fun; I listen to her go on about the pros and cons of the two schools she has narrowed down. And it was nice and numbing. I didn't say much, just nodded and hummed in all the right spots.

But her dragging me out, I think, was more for me to get outside and distracted for a bit instead of being numb at home.

But right now I want to talk to Lucian, he texted saying he got a date to take me to see Jake.

I walk into his room, "When?"

"Now, if we get there before six, you can see him."

"Okay, let's go."

I don't give him time to talk I walk out and down to his car. I need to see him today.

There was a moment a month after the accident when Sarah was obsessed with Jake, needing to know more about him. I need to talk to him; I need to see him.

I need to ask a question, and I know deep in my heart he doesn't have an answer, but the urge, this gut-wrenching need to ask him won't go away.

Lucian gives me the quiet I need for what I am about to do. We get to the prison and do everything we need to do, and I sit in my little space with the glass between me and where he will be.

I wonder if I will recognize him. I have a vague memory of him telling me why he was signing his rights away. There is another one from a football game. What I remember of him, he's big.

The man that sat across from me, I get it now. I see what aunt Leah and Mom saw. He could be my twin aged by fifty years.

His eyes sweep over me before picking up the phone. I pick up my end.

"Which boy are you?"

"Damon."

He nods his head. I take him in, all the details, the prison tattoos covering his forearm to his shoulders, and a couple on his neck. His slumped shoulders and regret in his eyes as he took me in.

I can't help, but the tears build up, blurring my vision as I build up the courage to talk.

"I always thought it would be Lucian."

I shake my head as my tears fall. "I'm not here to talk about my brother." I wipe the tears off my face.

He clears his throat. "Why are you here?"

"Why—why did you throw us away?"

He opened his mouth, but I didn't let him talk.

"I was going to be a dad. This amazing woman was carrying my baby, my little girl, and I had planned it all out. I saw a fucking fantastic life that I would have had."

I pause, staring at him, hating him. "But I don't get to have it, but you get six kids, and you threw us away like trash. Why? Why do you get to be a parent?"

He falls back into his chair, rubbing his hand down his face. "I didn't. I'm not a parent. I may have contributed to making a child, but I was never a parent."

My body shakes. "It's not fair."

"No, it's not. What happened?"

"We were in a car accident. It killed them."

I hear his heavy sigh as I stare at the table in front of me and question why I am even here. Why did I need to come here and yell at him? Asking questions he doesn't have answers to.

"I'm sorry. I am sorry that happened to you; I really am. I wish I could give you the answers you want and I honest to god do not understand why I got six kids, and you lost yours. You would have been a great dad and you would have put me to shame. That's because you have a dad and he's raising you to be a good man. I'm not and that is why I am in here. I made the worst kind of decision a person could make. I hurt people that didn't deserve it. And now I am paying for it."

I look up. "Do you regret us?"

"No."

"I have an amazing dad. He took in two more of your kids, Julie and Sarah. He loves them like he loves all of us."

He swallows hard. "Good."

"I would have given her the best life. I would have."

"You would have."

He clears his throat, and his eyes scan me over. "Were you in the car too?"

I nod. "My leg broke in half, had a lot of physical therapy, and now I have a rod in my leg."

"Physically, are you ok?"

I shrug, feeling uncomfortable with the way the conversation is going. "I have a small limp."

"Will that affect your sports? I mean, are you and Lucian—"

"No, this isn't why I came here," I can't do this with him. He doesn't get to have this. "I need to leave."

"Ok, but if you need someone to hate, to be angry with. I can be that. You can hate me, be angry with me."

For a brief moment, I look at him before setting the phone down and leave.

Lucian was waiting for me, "Are you ok?"

"I will be."

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