Buried Alive

by Brown, Stacey Marie

  It took everything I had not to react to her question, locking my face muscles. A forced smile curled softly on my face, my hands intertwining, my gaze meeting hers.

  “There are aspects of my life I want to keep private,” I said low, but a sternness sounded in every syllable. A trickle of sweat went down my back, the lights feeling as if they were boiling me to death. “Rhys and I are friends. We shared a tragedy not a lot of people truly understand.”

  Candice’s eyebrows curved up slightly in an expression that screamed, “I don’t think it’s all you shared.”

  She waited for me to go on, to flounder in the silence, spill something I shouldn’t. My stare drilled back into her, letting the quiet grow and become awkward TV silence.

  She had no choice but to move on.

  “This afternoon is the final FIS World Cup competition. If Rhys wins, he will be going to the Olympics, surpassing his brother Jonah. Do you have anything to say to him?”

  Fuck her. She was poking me with a stick, provoking me. Air slid through my nose and out, trying to keep the anger from lashing out.

  “Of course I wish him the best of luck. Rhys is extremely gifted. What Jonah did in his career should have no reflection on Rhys. He’s his own person with his own talent.”

  “Will you be going to watch him? Support your friend?” She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs.

  Breathe, Hannah.

  “No, I will not be able to,” I responded, not looking away from her. “But I have no doubt he will be amazing.”

  A slight twitch in her jaw suggested she wasn’t happy with my response. She probably hoped I’d spill a little more, or say I would be there. The camera was ready to capture every emotion on my face. If I went to the competition, it would become about me, the drama. I would not take away his moment.

  “Well, that’s the end of our time. Thank you again for sitting with me. Your story is heartbreaking, heroic, and inspiring.” Candice turned to the camera. “This has been First Look. Thank you for tuning in.”

  There was a beat before a man yelled, “And we’re off the air.”

  Candice’s persona dropped away, the regal way she held herself slipping off like a costume. “I’m sorry about those last questions. It was my producer’s idea to drop them on you at the end.”

  “Not really surprised.” I unclipped my microphone, standing up. “It’s as though you guys can’t help yourself…no matter who you hurt or what lives you cripple. If it gets you the lead, you don’t give a damn. I hope you can twist my words into some amazing sound bite for your ratings. Have a nice day, Candice.” Without letting her respond, I walked off the set, ready to get away.

  I hoped by doing this interview the interest would die away in a few weeks, especially if I kept my head down.

  My shoes squeaked on the smooth concrete floor, TV crew bustling around me. When I saw someone standing against the wall, my feet came to a stop.

  “Mom?” If I expected to see anyone, it was Siena. She was determined to get her double shift covered and come support me. Well, in honesty, I think she just wanted to be on a TV set, but I appreciated the thought anyway.

  My mom wore her typical gray skirt and white blouse with matching jacket, her name tag still on her breast pocket. She stood straight, her hands twisting together, taking a step when she heard me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Oscar gave me a few hours off.” She peered at the set and a sliver of emotion blinked in her eyes.

  “It doesn’t explain why you’re here.” I folded my arms, moving closer, not wanting the people around to hear us. Even though I chose to stay at Siena’s, I still spent a lot of time with my parents. Talking. Years of built-up walls we had to pick at. It was difficult. Tension and heartache didn’t simply vanish, especially after the nugget I dropped on them. Obviously, I left out the sex details between Jonah and Bryan. No parent needed to know that.

  The last I saw her was at dinner the night before. She hadn’t commented on coming with me. Actually, she kept mentioning how work was going to be busy. She and Dad worked all the time. That’s what they did. The safety of the routine controlled the mess their lives had become. Neither of them thought the interview was a good idea, but I knew, like years before, if I didn’t do it, the attention would never relent.

  “I-I…” She cleared her throat, her gaze drifting around. “I should’ve been here. To support you.”

  It felt as if a clamp had closed down on my lungs, stealing the breath from me. “What?” My heart pounded over the tiny thread of hope she spun before me.

  She reached out, touching my hand. “I haven’t been a good mother. I know that. And I am sorry.” She withheld the emotion from her words, but the sentiment still twisted me like I was a rag doll and made my chest swell with warmth. All my life I had waited for her to toss me a rope. Anything to feel I wasn’t drowning alone.

  “I should have said this nine years ago, maybe even way before that.” She met my gaze, her hands gripping my arms. “I love you, Brennley. And I couldn’t be prouder of you. Especially right now. You went through so much pain and horror. Held it on your own... and you’ve turned into such an amazing woman.”

  My throat curled on itself, my lids blinking rapidly. I don’t care how old you are, you never stop searching for you parents’ approval or love. I couldn’t stop a quiet sob from escaping my throat. I pressed my hand to my mouth. Mom’s hand brushed my face before she gave me a stiff hug. She had never been a hugger, so I absorbed this drop of sentiment the same way the desert would a raindrop.

  She pulled back as quickly as she started, straightening the ends of her blazer. “Do you need a ride home?”

  “No, I drove.” I struggled to fight back the tears wanting to flood out. “You should get back to work; I’m sure they miss you.”

  She nodded, almost looking relieved. This had been a giant leap for her, so I tried not to take it personally. We weren’t ever going to have the relationship I dreamed about, but my mother was trying. It’s all I could ask for right now. I would have probably freaked out if she suddenly got all sentimental.

  My personality was so different from hers when I was a child, but I couldn’t deny over the years I had become more like her than I ever wanted to.

  It was Rhys who brought animation and verve back to my soul and the need to express myself.

  Shit. I miss him.

  As if she suddenly inherited mother’s intuition, her fingers wrapped around my wrist, squeezing. “It’s supposed to be a lovely day, it might do you good to go for a walk, you know, check out all the activity happening on the mountain.”

  A small snort broke from my nose. Rhys was another truth I exposed to my parents, how we had become close over the past month.

  “Subtle, Mom.”

  “I had serious reservations about you two. I’m still not sure how I feel about it, but the one thing was clear: I’ve never seen you so happy. You came to life again.”

  “He wants nothing to do with me.” My arms folded around my stomach, almost as though I was trying to block her assessment. “Plus, I would just pull focus. This is his day.”

  “That’s nonsense and you know it. Friends are there to support.”

  “I’m not sure he thinks of me as a friend.”

  “He does, Bren. He’s confused. Remember, you’ve had nine years of knowing the truth, he’s had two weeks. Also, you have almost four years on him…for girls it’s close to thirty in dog years.” I burst out laughing. “Be his friend, even if he doesn’t think he wants one. Just think how much you needed one when you were going through all that stuff.”

  I swallowed and took a deep breath, my head bobbing.

  “Wear a hood and sneak up there. I think it will help you as much as him.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  She cleared her throat again. “I should get going. A dozen parties are scheduled for tonight. All the snowboarders will be celebrating. Or drowning their sorrows.”
>
  “Go.” I nodded to the exit. “The staff is probably curled into balls on the floor by now without you.” My mother ran the hotel. Oscar might own it, but he knew, as did everyone else, he couldn’t survive without my mom.

  “Okay.” She began to turn. “Your father and I will be working very late tonight. But I could take the next day off. Maybe you and I can go see Bryan together. I think he’d really like that.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “Sounds great.” I watched her walk out of the studio set. Astonishment parted my mouth in awe. This was a huge step for us.

  After a minute I followed the same route and stepped out into the sunshine. My head tipped back, lids closed; the rays hit my face and warmed my skin.

  Without even realizing it, a lightness stretched through me, a smile spreading over my lips. I felt another chunk of the chains I carried fall to the ground. Some I would bear forever, but a lot of my burden was being reduced day by day. Happiness I’d thought was lost was finding its way back. It would take me a long time to fully feel I deserved it, to let go of the survivor’s guilt, and not blame myself for what happened. But I was determined to live my life to the fullest and not hide behind a façade and waste what was given to me.

  Bryan and Jonah would want that. I would want it for them if roles were reversed.

  A soft wind blew at my hair, fluttering across my features as though a hand touched my face. The breeze whisked through the snowy trees, sounding similar to a voice whispering in my ear. Jonah’s voice.

  Go to him, Bren. He needs you.

  My lids burst open. I knew no one would be in front of me, but my head still swiveled around, my heart pounding. A strange notion beat at my gut like a flock of birds taking flight.

  As if someone shoved me forward, I lurched for my car and jumped in, tearing out of the parking lot. Whether or not Rhys cared, I was going to be there for him.

  Fear or doubt would not stop me anymore. I would break free of my icy grave and stand on that mountain again. For him I would do anything.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Rhys

  “Fuck!” I screamed and tossed my helmet, which crashed into the bench with a boom, rage thundering in my ears. “Shit!” Out of my peripheral vision I saw other snowboarders move away from me. Outbursts from us, especially over a bad run, weren’t uncommon, but mine seemed to unnerve them. I had always been a ticking time bomb. My anger was darker and more violent. I paced like a wild animal ready to tear the next person who got close into shreds. “Motherfucker!”

  “Son, you need to calm the fuck down.” Shaun was the only one with the guts to get near me.

  Ignoring him, I prowled the space, kicking and chucking anything within reach, mostly plastic cups and granola bars. Shaun blocked me from grabbing the energy drinks on the table. Those could do some damage.

  “Sit down.” Shaun pointed at a bench on the far side of the tent. It was set up right behind the start gate for the snowboarders to relax or prep for their run. We each had three chances today to up our total point count. Mine had been higher than the others.

  Until my last two runs.

  “I said sit the hell down,” Shaun ordered me.

  I snarled at him but sat my ass on the bench, gritting my teeth and gripping my knees. I took a few deep breaths, trying to contain my raging frustration at myself.

  Shaun ripped off his beanie, rubbing his bald head. He took over my pacing, his hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dammit, Rhys. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Shaun looked like if he had any hair, he surely would have been pulling it out by now.

  My last and final run was moments away, and my score hovered toward the middle. The two previous runs were about as good as I felt. If I didn’t pull something out of my ass, my hopes for the Olympics were gone.

  “Since I’ve gotten back, you have been distracted, and can we say slightly irritable?” He eyed me, hinting at my little tantrum. “It’s almost as if you want to sabotage yourself. Are you even trying?”

  My lids tapered, my teeth grinding together. “I’m trying.”

  “No, you aren’t.” Shaun’s boots tracked back and forth, imprinting the snow with wavy lines. “You are achieving a self-fulfilling prophecy, the one where you think you will never be as good as your brother. That you don’t deserve it.” He leaned over me on the bench, poking my shoulder. “And this guy sitting here? You’re right; he doesn’t deserve it.”

  “Damn, nice way to bring me off the ledge, Shaun.”

  “You don’t need to be babied. You need to be told the truth, and you need to take it like the man I know you are. This guy might not deserve to go on, but the guy I know, the one with so much talent and discipline that he puts every athlete I’ve ever known, including myself, to shame? He does fucking deserve it.” He exhaled, letting his frustration ebb a bit. “You are more than good enough, Rhys. You are far better than your brother ever was. Stop living in his shadow.”

  My throat tightened. I looked to the side, watching Jesper, two slots ahead of my run, slide down the hill, starting his final run. He was in the lead, and if he kept doing the course as good as he was, and I kept repeating mine as bad as I was, he would fill my spot on the Olympic team.

  “I stupidly stayed quiet, letting you get through whatever was going on, but I will not sit back and let you hand it over to him.” He motioned to where Jesper had been. “It’s yours. You just need to get this…” He tapped at my head. “And this,” he poked my chest, “together.” He huffed, standing up. “I know whatever you’re going through has nothing to do with Graham or Carrie.”

  My lip hitched up, my arms crossing. Graham’s lawyer had already contacted me, filing a lawsuit against me, adding to my already “great” week and mood. Asshole.

  “I’m old, but I remember what it was like to fall in love.”

  I jerked, my back going ridged. “Who said anyth—”

  “I’m not blind, nor a fool.” Shaun cut me off. “I can see it. She changed you. For a brief moment I saw the ghost lingering over you, the self-doubt, disappear. It was as if I finally saw Rhys. Not merely the snowboarder, but the man I knew you could be.”

  My jaw twitched, and my ass wiggled on the cold bench.

  “Don’t do this last run for your brother, or as though you are still trying to prove something to your parents. Do it for yourself. And when you’re finished, I want you to go find that girl and apologize for whatever shitty thing you did. Again.”

  I gaped at him. “She was the one who lied. I’m the innocent one here.”

  He shook his head as if I were some pathetic idiot. “We both know that doesn’t matter.”

  Hands on my head, I bent over, groaning. He was right. It didn’t matter. I had forgiven her almost the instant I walked away from her. I couldn’t say if roles were reversed I wouldn’t have done the same, especially with what she went through and how she still protected them. It seemed like she also wanted to shield me from that pain.

  I didn’t need protecting. I needed her.

  For two weeks, I had tried to push all thoughts of her out of my head, needing time to make sense of everything and focus on training. Which I did terribly. She was everywhere. All the time.

  “Jesper Olsson may have just solidified the top spot with his incredible run.” The spokesman’s voice rang through the tent, grating my spine like cheese. I nudged my helmet, which still lay on the ground, resisting the urge to kick it. “Are we looking at our new Olympic hopeful? It’s up to Rhys Axton if he wants to claim it back! We will see. His final run is coming up.”

  “Fuck.” I growled, scouring my head before I stood up, then pulled on my helmet. I knew I had to do something amazing to keep my spot. Anger at myself spilled out into my limbs. I had this and almost let it go…as though it would hurt Jonah if I exceeded him. I already surpassed him in age. He would always be seventeen and an Olympic hopeful. Never more.

  I wanted more. And the Jonah who Hannah had described, he’d want that for me too
. I wish I had known him. Been a true brother.

  “I’m going to do this for myself.” I looked Shaun in the eyes. “But Jonah will always be with me. I will do this for him too. And when I get the medal next winter, Jonah will be there, holding it with me. Because who I am has a lot to do with him. Good and bad. He and I are in this together.” I felt the shift, as though I was no longer in Jonah’s shadow but on equal ground. His ghost was not taunting me or competing but encouraging me: Come on, little brother, you got this.

  I grabbed my board and stalked to the start gate with Shaun right behind me. I buckled myself onto the board and slipped on my goggles.

  “I couldn’t be prouder of you, Rhys.” He cupped my shoulder.

  I gave him a nod, my voice stuck in neutral. The man who gave me life was locked in his house in Florida, not seeing past his own misery. Shaun was my true father. He always had been.

  “Now put the Swede in his place.” He smiled, patting my back.

  I inched my board closer to the line, my gaze tunneling on the course below.

  “Rhys Axton is up next,” the announcer bellowed, getting the crowd amped up.

  It’s only the beginning.

  Adrenaline pumped in my veins, my sight homed in. The buzzer sounded, and I pushed off from the gate.

  It was do or die.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Hannah

  The late-afternoon sun draped low enough so the snow wasn’t blinding, but shadows began to descend in patches over the course. The snow grew crustier, sprinkling it with what we called “death cookies,” large ice chunks from freezing temperatures and overgrooming, making it a little bit more difficult to do a spotless run.

  “Rhys Axton is next!” The speakers above my head boomed, and my heart thumped as loud. The crowd around me was going nuts, jumping up and down, their posters declaring their love and support bounced along the skyline. “Does he have what it takes? Or is this the end for Axton?”