“I love her,” he grated out. “Loved her. I don’t know if I love her anymore. I’m a piece of shit for that, aren’t I? I should love her. Right? I should want to touch her, hold her, tell her everything will be all right, but… I can’t, man. She went to him. Him. She let him touch her. She didn’t give me the option of figuring this shit out.”

“She felt like she was between a rock and a hard place.”

“Is that on us?”

His wall fell, and the anguish looking back in my direction was burned inside of me. I’d never forget it. I’d never share it either. Zellman and Bren would never hear about this. They shouldn’t carry that either.

His words rasped out, “Bren went at her last year. Me too. I was right there. Crew or non-crew. Tab wasn’t crew, but I fell for her. Then she ratted, or was going to rat, and why do I feel dirty? I shouldn’t feel dirty. Jesus. He did that to the girl I love, loved? I’m a dick of epic proportions. I should go to her, hug her, make her feel better. I should do what you did for Bren, because I know that’s what you did. You did what you had to do so she could walk out of here without fifty fucking anchors pulling her down. I heard her. She sounded good. I know you did that. Old Bren, not a chance. She’d be halfway gone from us. We’d lose her, but we ain’t. You fix her. I should fix Tab…but I’m not. I’m here, not there, and I’m the one feeling dirty.”

“You’re not feeling that. That’s her. You love her. You take on what you love, and you love her. You’re feeling what she’s feeling.”

“You think so?”

But he was barely moving. A statue. The fifty fucking anchors he put on Bren was what he was feeling. He was being held down, and I was sure. “Your sister’s in your head, and now Tab, too. You’re feeling what they felt, what Tab is feeling. I’d bet anything on that.”

He nodded, his shoulders falling. “Maybe.”

Another minute we sat there. Silence.

And then from him, “Then why can’t I make myself get up and go to her? I can’t bring myself to do it, and I’m ashamed of that. That’s not a man. That’s a coward. I’m a coward, Cross.”

I didn’t have the words. Not anymore. I had shared the ones I did have, but I had one last thing to give him.

“You’re not a coward, Jordan. I’d bet my life on that.”