"Life isn't supposed to end after we crash and burn because of somebody's mistake. We are supposed to grow but because of Veronica... he'll never do that. He won't ever get the chance to become anything else." Dick told Cindy Mackenzie with a devastated look on his face.
Her petite blond P.I. friend had told her that the night the drunken surfer had found himself her door looking for Parker and screamed at her, he'd later shown up at Logan's an emotional wreck. They'd been side-eying each other for a while, avoiding the situation, limiting contact. Their silent truce.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Perhaps she should take Wallace's advice: Clear the air and focus on what was the best for everyone.
"Did.." Dick paused, chewing on the end of his thumb as if wondering if he should continue. "Did he ever-talk to you about... little league... or Woody... and what..?"
She tried not to flinch, recalling the way his younger brother would stiffen in her arms occasionally if she kissed him in a certain spot on his neck. How his voice would get weak and he'd plead with her to just take him back to the dance when she pressured him to talk about his reluctance at physical connection.
No, Cassidy had never spoken to her about the abuse, and part of her felt horrible that she hadn't been that safe space for him. After attending the SA support group with Parker the first few times, she'd realised how many warning signs had been present in the younger Casablanca's behaviour.
Hindsight was always 20/20, 4K, Ultra High Definition with Augmented Reality and the behind the scenes stories which not everyone knew at the time.
When Mac tried to describe her feelings about Cassidy, the only word she could ascribe to it was ambivalence. She was experiencing multiple feelings all at once—even some that seemed opposite, like love and hate...grief and relief.
Guilt rolled in her stomach that she was glad that Cassidy was gone. She missed him but after she learned he was responsible for the death of her friend Marcos Oliveres and two of her other classmates Betina Marone and Rhonda Landers whom she'd known since kindergarten, it was coloured by anger.
She hated him for what he'd done to Veronica.
For not trusting her and becoming the monster who'd pointed a gun in her face and locked her in a hotel room.
Mac could almost laugh at the naivety she'd assumed he was pulling some evil 09er prank, and her worrying that going Viral would be the worst thing to happen that night.
Then Veronica had found her, told her everything in an emotionally numb haze while she sat on Logan's couch in some of his oversized sweatpants, the Sheriffs department everywhere. The sickening memory of the sound of his body hitting the parked car a few floors below their room, the sirens going off.
Sheriff Lamb had questioned Logan repeatedly to tell him again, and again what had been said before Cassidy landed off the roof.
"I told Veronica to give me the gun, that she wasn't a killer... and Beav-Cassidy I think he'd just realised that he was... and I told him Don't... but he just stepped off the ledge."
Eavesdropping on that small exchange had made it a habit for her to constantly reflect and second guess every single thing she did or said to anybody now.
Dick's eyes were fixed on hers. Every movement felt like she could set off a landmine, she raked her gaze over his form, the tense way he'd braced himself for her answer, the way his breath held, willing himself into stillness.
Mac pursed her lips and silently shook her head. "I wish I could have done more."
Dick exhaled slowly, breaking his stare. "He was my baby brother... it was my job.. to keep him safe."
"It wasn't your fault..." Mac said quietly.
"Oh, there's a lot of people I blame." Dick snorted.