Finn (Breakaway Hockey #4)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Finn

W ait, there’s no way I heard that correctly. I didn’t even know Sammie ever had a sister. I once brought up that I have an older brother, but she never mentioned having any siblings of her own. I just assumed she was an only child.

But surely, if she did have a sister, she couldn’t have fucking killed her.

Brow creasing, and to make sure I heard her right, I ask, “What did you just say?”

Sammie fights back tears as she replies, “No, it’s true.” She squeezes her eyes shut, then opens them again. “I killed my twelve-year-old sister, no different than if I’d stabbed her to death.”

This is unbelievable.

I don’t accept it.

I shake my head, refusing to believe this beautiful, sweet woman did anything so heinous.

“Oh, come on,” I say. “No way is this true. There must be more to it. Now tell me what really happened.”

I suspect she didn’t kill her sister on purpose, so I need to hear the story. I have a feeling Sammie is blaming herself for something that was way out of her control.

Sure enough, the next words out of her mouth are “It was a car accident. A bad one. She didn’t make it.”

I release a breath and say, “Sammie, car accidents are exactly that—accidents. I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.”

We’re still holding hands, but she pulls hers away as she says, “But it was my fault, Finn. I was driving and I’m the one who insisted we go out and get ice cream that night. Amanda, that was her name”—she looks at me sadly before continuing—“asked my mom to take her earlier. But she was busy. By evening, I remembered how badly Amanda had wanted to go, so I begged and pleaded with my parents to let me take us to the ice cream shop using the family car. Really, I just wanted to drive somewhere. Ice cream or whatever, it didn’t matter. I was sixteen and had just gotten my license a couple of weeks before that, so I was always looking for a reason to drive somewhere.”

“That’s normal,” I tell her emphatically. “I was the same way. I wanted to drive any chance I could get after I had my driver’s license. I think most kids are that way when they reach that point in their lives.”

“Yeah, but if I hadn’t pushed…”

I wait, and after several seconds, she continues, “Anyway, we made it to the ice cream shop just fine. We were laughing and talking while waiting in line to get our cones. I still remember that I chose mint chocolate chip, and Amanda picked black raspberry. I’ll never forget that, and I’ll never forget how she told me it was her most favorite flavor in the whole wide world and how I was the most awesome sister for having taken her to get that ice cream. Ha, what a joke.”

She laughs bitterly, then grows quiet for what feels like a long time. It’s only a couple of minutes, though. It’s just that time feels as if it’s slowed way the fuck down.

Finally, Sammie says, “The accident happened on the way back. We weren’t even that far from our house. We were on a lonely two-lane country road when out of the blue, this big pickup truck crossed the center line, heading right for us.”

“Oh my God, Sammie.”

She shakes her head. “It all happened so fast. I didn’t have time to swerve. There was nowhere to go anyway. On both sides of that road, there are thick woods. Still, I should have thought of something, because he hit us head-on.”

Placing her face in her hands, Sammie starts to cry.

I scoot forward and hold her in my arms.

She leans into me and cries on my shoulder.

We stay like that for a while until she sits back, her eyes red, her nose runny.

I get up and grab some tissues, then sit back down with her.

“Here.” I hand her the Kleenex. As she dabs at her eyes with them, I tell her, “Sammie, again, that accident was not your fault. You had nowhere to go. Shit like that happens too fast for people to react. That could have been anybody driving, and it would have played out the same way. You can’t beat yourself up about something you had no control over.”

“Then it should have been me who didn’t make it,” she states quietly. “Not only did my sister die on impact, so did the driver of the truck. He was dead before the paramedics even got there. My family found out later that he was having a heart attack. That’s why he crossed over the line. He wasn’t supposed to be driving due to a bunch of health conditions, so we received a huge settlement from the insurance company. And I mean massive, Finn. My parents gave me half before they moved to Florida.” She releases a ragged breath. “Two people died that night, and then there was me. I was fine.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “I had a little whiplash, but that was it. I was the only one who lived. But I shouldn’t have.”

She tosses a wadded-up tissue to the floor angrily, and I take her hands once more. “No! Look at me.” She does, and I go on. “There was a reason you survived, and it’s not to punish yourself for the rest of your life. Your sister wouldn’t want that, Sammie. She’d want you to go on and live and be happy.”

She lets out a sob. “I want that, Finn. I do. I want it so much, now more than ever before. But I don’t think I know how.”

I squeeze her hands. “Just let go and live, sweetheart. Forgive yourself. You did nothing wrong, and you certainly did not kill your sister. Promise me you’ll never say that again. That would be a start to healing.” She looks down, and I reiterate, “Promise me, Sammie.”

“Okay.” She nods, like she’s trying to convince herself she can do it. I think she really, truly wants to. “I promise,” she says.

And then, looking up at me, she asks softly, “You’re sure you don’t hate me now?”

I make a face. “Fuck, of course not. Sammie, I could never hate you. Not when I fucking love you as much as I do.”