Where the Darkness Goes

Chapter 40

CHAPTER FORTY

GARRETT — PRESENT DAY

When I hear a car pull up outside a few hours later, I assume Tessa’s back from wherever she went. It took everything in me not to follow her, to keep her safe, to beg her to forgive me, but I didn’t. She needed space, and I can’t blame her for that.

I read something once about how you’re supposed to sleep with your head pointed in a certain direction for better health. South, I think. Maybe east. It had something to do with Earth’s magnetic poles and the iron in our body. When you sleep in the wrong direction, the iron in your blood pulls toward the opposite pole, causing a heap of problems, if the study is to be believed. I don’t know. It’s probably complete crap, but the message stuck with me because it’s the closest thing I’ve ever heard to describing the way I feel about Tessa.

Like everything in me—my blood and cells—are drawn to her. They push against my skin to be closer to her, as if we were magnets. When I’m not with her, I’m on edge. My axis is off-kilter. I buzz with an uncomfortable energy that can only be calmed when she’s around. She’s a part of me, in my very tissue and running through my veins. I need her like I need oxygen, and right now I’m terrified my supply is about to be cut off again.

When the front door opens, I’m waiting in the living room as Will enters. He drops his bags down on the floor and gives me a look I can’t quite read.

“I didn’t think you’d get back until tonight.”

“Advantage of driving, I guess. I didn’t have to wait for a flight.” He scans the room. “Where is she?”

“Out.” I jut my chin toward the door.

“Don’t like the sound of that.”

“I told her about the jewelry.”

“ What? You swore?—”

“I know.” I cut him off, not in the mood. “I know I swore, and I have lied to her and kept your secret for you for years. But I can’t anymore, man. I’m sorry. You need to tell her everything once and for all, or I’m going to.”

He looks away, a muscle in his cheek twitching as he grits his teeth. “It’s only going to hurt her.”

“She deserves to know,” I argue. “I mean it. No more lies.”

A sound at the door draws our attention as it is pushed open. Tessa’s gaze falls between us as she takes in the scene, then her arms go wide as she runs to her brother. “Will.” She hugs him tightly, then pulls back. “Now that that’s out of the way…” She slaps his chest. “You lied to me.” Her tone is playful, but she’s furious.

“I know.” He groans, rubbing his chest where she hit him, though we all know it didn’t hurt. He spends far too much time in the gym for that little slap to have done anything.

“Why?” she demands. She explores both our faces with her gaze. “Someone had better start talking. Now.”

“Can’t we have dinner first?” he asks lightly, clearly teasing…but not teasing.

“No.” She shakes her head, crossing her arms. “Also, I have a message for you. And I’m not sure which bridge we need to cross first.”

“A message?” His face goes serious. “What kind of message?”

“One from Mom.”

His body tenses with the news. “She’s awake? And talking?”

“It’s complicated.” She bares her teeth. “I’ll show you when we visit her.”

“Well, what was the message?”

Running her tongue along her teeth, she meets her brother’s eyes. “She wanted me to tell you that Britney knew. ”

I clock the exact moment Will processes the news, as his back goes pin straight. He makes a face at me, so serious I know it’s all about to spill over. No more lies. No more secrets. This is it.

“She wouldn’t tell me what she knew, but she kept saying to tell you that she knew.” Her eyes dart between the two of us. “Do you know what that means?”

He sighs and runs a hand over his face. This is the moment that has been looming for years now, and finally, it’s here. No more secrets. No more lies. “Yeah. We should sit down.”

“Will, just tell me. I don’t need to?—”

“You’re going to want to listen to him,” I tell her, gesturing across the room.

“You know?” she demands, her tone sharp.

“I wish I didn’t, trust me.”

Sensing the seriousness of whatever is happening, she crosses the room without a word and sits down. “Now, will someone please tell me what’s going on?”

Will takes a seat next to her, but I linger in the doorway, feeling so out of place yet not willing to leave her. I have no idea if she wants me here, but until she tells me to leave, I’m staying.

He opens his mouth, closes it again, pinches his lips between his fingers, adjusts on the couch, and leans forward over his knees, wringing his hands together in his lap. His nervous tell has always been the same as hers.

“Will, say something,” she groans. “Jesus Christ.”

He puffs a frustrated breath. “Well, actually, it sort of involves him.”

“Who?” Her brows draw down as I roll my eyes. Jesus.

“Just tell her,” I urge him, growing exasperated.

Will’s head dips down again before he looks at her, squaring his shoulders, and here it goes. “It’s about Pastor Charles. And whatever you’re thinking, I promise you it’s so much worse.”