Just One Kiss (Oh Tequila Series Book 4)

by C. A. Harms

  Everything that took place next was a whirlwind of action with the ambulance and police arriving. The chaos around me was in full effect, but I couldn’t manage to move. I was glued to my seat next to Brent, my eyes fixated on his lifeless form.

  The paramedics attempted to assess my injuries, but I refused. I didn’t want to move or be touched.

  The second a white sheet was lowered over Brent, the loudest, most horrible sound escaped me and ricocheted off the rocks and vehicles around us.

  This was real, and it was my fault.

  Chapter Nine

  Palmer

  I was woken by the sound of someone talking outside my door, and movement as they hurried down the hallway toward the kitchen.

  Quickly I grabbed my robe and wrapped it around me before I opened my door. Stepping out into the hallway I found Emelie sitting on the arm of the recliner, staring at Clayton as he paced the small space near our kitchen table.

  “Whats going on?” I asked as I moved closer to her.

  “I’m not exactly sure but it’s someone from the hospital.” My heart sank and I fisted my hands. “I heard Corbin’s name.” Chills covered my arms and legs as my stomach began to feel as though it was twisting around profusely.

  “Is he awake?” I heard Clayton ask while he fisted the hair at the back of his neck. “Is he gonna be alright?”

  I reached out for Emelie and she immediately placed her hand in mine. I desperately needed a connection. Pretending to despise Corbin, refusing to admit that I felt a connection to him too, was something I felt I had to do. But there, then, not knowing what was happening, was killing me.

  “I’ll be there,” Clayton’s voice was nothing more than a whisper: a sad, scared and almost devastated whisper.

  After he ended the call, silence settled over the room as he hung his head. Emelie was the first to move. Standing up, she rounded the couch and stepped up to him, placing her hand on his chest.

  “Clay.” I sensed she was also fighting back emotions.

  He didn’t say anything right away, just wrapped his arms around her and pulled her body to his. I desperately wanted to ask if Corbin was okay, but before I could he spoke.

  “They were in a bike accident.” Again with the chills. “Brent and Corbin.”

  “Are they okay?” I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest to hide my shaking hands.

  “I gotta go.” Clayton pushed back from Emelie, as if realizing he was wasting time. “They said he’s awake, but they never gave me many details. Just that I needed to come.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Emelie asked him, tears in her eyes as she watched him almost frantically move around the space. “Clayton?” She said his name louder and he still walked around as if in search something.

  “I need my fucking keys, that’s what I need.” I knew he was under a lot of stress and Em did too, because this version of Clayton was not one we’d seen often. “I told him that bike was a mistake. I told him that, but he never listens. He knows everything, he knows best.” At this point Clayton was rambling as Emelie burst into motion, in search of his keys I was sure.

  “You shouldn’t go alone.” Clayton looked over at me just as Emelie stepped into the living room carrying his keys. “You’re worried, and the last thing any of us need is you getting in an accident too because your thoughts are all over the place. Please just let someone take you or call one of the guys to ride along.”

  He seemed to be analyzing my words as he stared back at me.

  “He’s gonna be okay, Clay. He’s too ornery not to be.” I smiled even though on the inside I felt like I was falling apart.

  I watched as he picked up his phone once more, dialed a number, then held it to his ear. “Eli,” he hung his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, “get up, man. I just got a call that Corbin and Brent were in a motorcycle accident tonight.” There was a pause but even from this far away I could hear the jumbled noise of someone talking on the opposite end of the line. “I don’t know how bad it is. I just know I need to get there. Just be ready.”

  Clayton placed his phone in his back pocket, took the keys from Emelie, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before he exited our apartment. I immediately sagged back onto the couch and Emelie joined me. Together we sat in silence, just holding one another, unsure of what else to do.

  “He’ll be okay, they’ll be okay.” Emelie didn’t sound convincing at all.

  I nodded, feeling less than sure of her words. The last time I’d seen him I was so rude. It was all that my thoughts would allow. I closed my eyes tight, thinking of all the times he’d tried to convince me there was something between us since our time in Kentucky. And all the times I refused to admit the truth.

  At this point I wanted to get my own keys and follow behind, just to ensure he was in fact okay.

  The time that ticked by, the minutes that slowly passed felt like forever. Side by side with Emelie, we sat in the partially darkened living room and waited, neither of us willing to go back to bed. How could I? Because there was nothing but darkness there, nothing but silence. At least there, in the place I sat, I had Em.

  Chapter Ten

  Corbin

  I lay motionless in the hospital bed, my leg now bandaged as well as my arm and shoulder. The shirt and jeans I’d worn were long gone. I couldn’t even remember the time and space that spanned between the accident and the now. How I got there, what took place in between, it was all a blur.

  The only thing I did remember were the sounds of the crash and the way Brent’s body didn’t even flinch afterward. I closed my eyes tight, as if to rid myself of those memories, but they wouldn’t go away. They continued to play on repeat in my mind.

  “Mr. Powell, how are you feeling?” I didn’t open my eyes, the demons in my mind forcing me to remain silent and distant. I wanted the woman to leave, I wanted them all to leave. “We’ve called your emergency contact,” she added as something beeped—I presume the machine at my side. I could only imagine what Clayton was thinking when he got the call.

  My brother is a fuck up, look what he did now.

  “If you need anything at all, just press the nurse button.” I said nothing to her in return. I felt empty, completely emotionless. Like any type of reaction, it had all been turned off. I felt nothing.

  I heard the sounds of her feet shuffling and clapping against the floor as she left the room, and I remained still. My eyes were still closed tight, those same visions haunting me, the bad mixed with the good, which only made things worse. It reminded me of things Brent would never do again, the flash of him on the side of the road telling me exactly why.

  I pictured his parents when they got the call that their son was gone, or his sweet little girl’s tears when she was told her daddy wasn’t coming back to watch another one of those princess movies again. Even through it all I couldn’t seem to cry, though I felt the rawness it caused inside of me. It was like that was also turned off.

  Suddenly I heard someone talking just outside my room and I didn’t even have to look to know it was Clayton. His voice rang out among the others.

  “Corb.” His voice, laced with concern, filled the hospital room and I fisted the sheet at my side. “Jesus.” He winced when he looked me over. Elijah and Xavier came in behind him and I looked to the wall instead of at them. These guys, all of them, had been by my side for the whole span of my college years, but at this point they could have been strangers for all I cared. I just wanted them to leave.

  “We’re glad you’re okay, man.” Xavier’s voice sounded weakened, but emotional. I knew his words weren’t meant to be harsh, but they hit me just the same.

  “Yeah, I’m okay and Brent is dead.” The each just stared back at me, blank looks on their faces. I was unsure if they’d received that news, but the moment the words tumbled from my lips I was powerless to stop the flood that followed. “I survived, he didn’t. I don’t need to lay here and hear any fucked-up version of ‘I told you so,
’ or even ‘things happen for a reason.’ I just want to get the fuck out of here, so you can all save the shit.”

  And they did, all of them. Maybe it was wrong of me; no, I take that back, it was definitely wrong of me, but I didn’t give a shit. That part of me was gone, the part with a conscience or any amount of compassion, just gone.

  For the next hour the only sounds were those of the nurses and doctors who came in and out of the room. I listened in silence as they told Clayton about my injuries. No broken bones, no serious life-threatening or life-altering concerns, just a simple changing of the bandages over the next few weeks. I am the lucky one; I am here. Fuck that.

  I listened to the doctor talk about my after-care needs, but frankly all I wanted was to be released. Being there forced me to face that Brent wasn’t leaving with me and I couldn’t do that. I just wanted to ignore that fact.

  I don’t know how much time had passed but when the papers were signed, my IVs were disconnected, and the wheelchair was here to take me out, I slid out of the bed.

  Both Clayton and Elijah reached out to help me, but I pushed them both away. The nurse seemed unaffected by my irritated state as she stood smiling, waiting for me to take a seat. When I stepped past her and began walking toward the door, she called out to me.

  “Mr. Powell, you have to be taken in the wheelchair to the waiting car.”

  “I don’t have to do anything.” I didn’t even look behind me, only kept walking out of the room. I heard the shuffling of feet follow and wished more than anything that they would all just leave me alone.

  As I exited the hospital, I placed my hands on my hips and winced when the wound beneath the bandage sent a pain through my side.

  “Corbin, let us help you.”

  I turned around and found all three of them watching me with looks of concern.

  “I don’t want help. I just want everyone to leave me alone.”

  “Just let me get you back to the house,” Clayton said, “then we’ll let you rest.”

  “Don’t you get it?” I lowered my hands. “I fucking did this. It’s all my fault.”

  “How could it be?” Clayton looked back at Xavier. “You can’t control oncoming traffic, Corb, you can’t control what others do.”

  “I stopped!” I screamed the words and they echoed off the awning we stood beneath. “I needed a fucking sweatshirt, so I made us stop. Had I not done that, Brent would be here, he would be alive, his little girl wouldn’t be without a father and his parents without their son.” All three of them looked at me like I’d lost my mind, and I realized none of them actually knew he had a daughter. “Yes, he has a little girl, and we spent the day at his parents with her, spent the day with his family. Then we left, and I had to fucking pause for a damn shirt. Had I not done that we would have been around that bend in the road before that car was and he wouldn’t be dead.”

  Seconds, that’s all it would have taken between life and death.

  “It’s my fault.”

  “No.” Clayton grabbed for me and I jerked away.

  “Yes, I did this.” I pushed at Clayton and the movement caused me to stumble backward. Unable to gain my footing, I fell on my ass before I hurried to right myself once more.

  “Corbin…” Clayton tried to get me to listen. Only at this point no one could reach me; I was beyond gone. I walked away and as I went, I heard one of the guys tell Clay that I just needed time. But I knew the truth and that was that no amount of time would ever erase what I’d seen tonight.

  Chapter Eleven

  Palmer

  I stood in front of the mirror staring at myself. A dark blue, almost black, dress, hugged my body; the hem hit just above my knees. The last few days had been strange; everyone in our circle had accepted that they’d lost one of their own. I was saddened by the fact that I never really knew Brent, but I’d been told so many stories since the accident that I began to feel like I did.

  It was the day of his funeral, and though I felt a little out of place, I also felt as though I needed to go in support of those who were deeply feeling his loss. Mainly in support of Corbin, because from what I had been told, he was in a very dark place. Clayton had been at a loss as well as the other guys. Corbin was beginning to scare them, so much so that Clayton had even called his parents to come to town.

  If Corbin wasn’t drunk, he was sleeping off his most recent binge. If he wasn’t sleeping, he was fighting with someone and had become the worst version of himself. I had never seen Clayton so lost as to what to do next. No one seemed to be able to reach Corbin; it was almost like he was lost in the emptiness inside himself, the hollow hole that Brent’s absence had caused.

  “Are you ready?”

  I looked in the mirror to see Emelie step up behind me, also wearing a dark dress. My mom and dad had driven in last night and left this morning, taking Ethan back with them. It would be good for them, and him too, because there was entirely too much sadness here to have a toddler present.

  “Yeah.” I turned around and looked at Emelie as I leaned back against the sink behind me. “Have you talked to Clayton? Did he say how Corbin is this morning?”

  “He didn’t come home last night.” My stomach tensed. “After their parents got in and Corbin got into it with his dad, he left on foot. No one has seen him since.”

  “Did they look for him?” I pushed off the sink, sounding angrier than I had intended.

  “Of course they did,” she barked back. “They looked for hours, Palmer. Everyone is worried about him, it’s not like they’d just let him go without attempting to stop him.” I knew she was right. Emotions were high right now for everyone, all feeling different things for different reasons.

  “I’m sorry.” I reached out and pulled her in for a hug. “I just wish he’d talk to me, ya know.” I had tried reaching out to him at least once, sometimes twice a day since the accident happened. All calls and texts had gone unanswered; I didn’t feel he owed me anything, I just wanted him to know I was here. I was fully aware of the contradiction there, since the day before the accident I’d made it clear I wanted nothing from him. “I’m worried about him.”

  “We all are.” Emelie hugged me back and we remained that way for a few minutes before she stepped back. “We should probably go, though. I don’t want Clay to think we aren’t coming.”

  I simply nodded my head and followed her through our apartment.

  We listened to the radio and said nothing during our drive to the funeral home, about an hour and a half away. Brent would be laid to rest near his family home just outside Crystal River. He would be next to his grandfather and a cousin who had passed a few years before.

  When we arrived, I was amazed by the number of cars and people filling the area. All were dressed in dark clothes, with matching looks of devastation and sadness clouding their faces. I was surprised to hear Brent had a little girl, but then again, I barely knew him, only heard his name a time or two from Clayton or Emelie.

  With one deep, calming breath, I climbed from the car and followed Emelie as we walked toward the front entrance. With each step I took, I could feel my chest growing tighter. My legs trembled and my pulse quickened; it was surreal. Guys from school, mainly from the fraternity I knew Clayton was a part of, stood just inside. All wore suits or nice dress shirts, something rarely seen on a college campus.

  I recognized Morgan and Blake almost immediately, and an attractive man at their side as they looked in our direction. I offered a forced smile and followed Emelie as she moved toward the other side of the room. When she stepped up to Clayton, he instantly placed his arms around her and engulfed her in a hug, rocking from side to side. I was so caught up in their exchange that I hadn’t really noticed those around me.

  “Hello, Palmer.” I looked to my left to see Clayton and Corbin’s mother reaching out to offer me a hug. “How are you, sweetheart?” Her kind smile and generally sweet demeanor was such a warm, inviting feeling in the midst of the sad coldness the funeral home
provided.

  “Okay.” That seemed like an awful thing to say. How could anyone be anything but devastated over what happened? Whether one knew Brent or not, this entire outcome just felt so unbelievably unfair. “Is Corbin here?”

  “He is.” She offered me one of her own forced smiles, and it did nothing to hide the sorrow in her eyes. “My boy is so lost.” A glossy appearance took over her eyes as she blinked, attempting to hold back her tears. “I don’t know how to make this better for him.”

  “All we can do is be here and hope that he decides to lean on us.”

  Before either of us had the chance to say anything further, I heard a commotion and looked up just in time to see two guys rush toward the back entrance. Clayton nudged Emelie out of the way and then rushed off, leaving us all in a haze.

  “Go.” Clay’s mom hurried her husband along, pointing toward the direction they’d all escaped to. “He needs us, even if he can’t accept it.” At that moment I understood that the interruption was, or had something to do with, Corbin, and my heart instantly sank.

  I placed my hand over my heart as if that could possibly ease the ache that lay there.

  “No!” someone yelled just before the back door shut, leaving us all to wonder what took place just beyond it.

  I looked toward Mrs. Powell as she stared ahead, then at my best friend who appeared equally at a loss. My feet were shuffling along the floor, walking toward the exit. I paused with my palm pressed to the cool metal and slowly, with great caution, pushed it open.

  “You don’t know a fucking thing.” The voice was slurred and laced with so much anger. “You all wanna tell me how I should feel, how I need to be strong, but none of you fucking understand a thing. You weren’t there.”

  The crowd parted just enough for me to see the person responsible for the hate-filled words. Corbin swayed from side to side, his hair nothing more than a disheveled mess. His eyes were dark and hollow and stubble covered his face, all something I wasn’t used to seeing. My heart broke for the lost boy who was nothing more than a shell of his former self.