Page 74 of The Pact
I shake my head. “I’m fine.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“I can’t.”
Her eyes don’t move from mine. “You have to.”
“I said I can’t,” I snap, sharper than intended.
But she doesn’t flinch or pull back.
“If you don’t,” she says, “it’s going to come out when you’re with them.”
I know she’s right. But it’s not easy for me.
“They need you right now more than ever,” she continues. “They need you to be steady and grounding. They need to feel like they’re safe, and they are going to take cues from you.”
“I know,” I say roughly.
“Then you can’t go into that house like this.”
“What do you mean? Like what?”
“You’re in your head, which is totally understandable,” she says. “But you can’t ignore it and hold it in like it’s not there.”
“Oh, it’s there,” I say, my voice cracking. “I just … ”
Her expression softens, and she waits for me to speak.
“I just can’t start if that makes sense,” I say.
She nods. “Because if you do, you might not stop?”
The truth about her words lands between us, raw and honest.
“If I let myself feel it—really feel it—I’m not sure I’ll be able to get it under control.”
Presley rests her head on my shoulder.
“You don’t have to control it, Saint.” She turns her head into my shirt. “You do need to let some of it out though.”
I stare at our hands and the way hers fits with mine. The steadiness she gives me without asking for anything in return.
“I just can’t wrap my head around how this could happen.” The words slip out.
She lifts her head again to look at me.
“I don’t understand,” I continue. “They were on vacation. It was the first time since before Remy was born that they’ve gone away like this.”
“I know,” she sighs.
“They were driving, probably enjoying their day,” I say. “Just driving.”
I shake my head.
“A flash flood?” I tip my head back onto the headrest. “That doesn’t just happen.”
“It can,” she says.
