Page 102 of Sing For Me

I wait for the usual rush of anger that always accompanies mention of her name. But I can’t feel anything beyond a dull stirring of the old emotions.

“How do you know?” I ask, voice little more than a whisper.

“Because I knew Skye,” he says. “I was there too, you know.”

I close my eyes, not wanting to think about that summer tour where Reed, Wyatt and I discovered her in that dive bar. Where we started her down the path that ruined her life.

“Skye was fucked up before you met her, man. I know you don’t want to remember that, but she was.”

Logically, I do know that. I know that no one self-destructs so fully and so quickly without some underlying issues.

“I know,” I admit, probably for the first time. I chew on my lip, trying to put into words what, exactly, sends such a crushing rush of fear through me when I think about going all in with Eva. “I couldn’t help her though,” I finally say. “I could see her spiraling and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do.”

“You can’t help someone who doesn’t want help, Will.”

I shake my head. I was in love with Skye. Yeah, we were young, but she was everything to me. And I was supposed to take care of her. What does it say about me as a man that I couldn’t do that?

Apparently, I don’t have to say those words out loud for Wyatt to know what I’m thinking. “You wereeighteen. You have to stop blaming yourself.”

“What if Eva needs something and I can’t give it to her?” I ask, finally getting to the root of every doubt I’ve had since I found out who the gorgeous girl in my tattoo shop was.

“I just don’t see that happening,” he says right away. “Jesus, Will, you take care of everyone. Every person in this family relies on you. Who do any of the cousins call when they need something? You.”

I don’t have a response to that. No matter how much logic I apply, my brain just keeps repeating the same childish argument—yeah, butwhat if?

“Look, man, there are risks in life. Risks in every relationship. People will always be able to hurt you, to let you down. I would imagine falling in love with someone is the scariest risk of all.” He turns to face me, a hand on my shoulder, and for just a second, I think I see a flash of unfamiliar pain in his eyes. “But what’s the alternative? You can’t just shut yourself off from everyone because you’re afraid.”

Something about his tone has my warning bells going off. “Wyatt, is something going on with you?”

He grins, but I can’t help but think it looks a little false. “We’re talking about your fucked-up life right now, little brother.”

I sigh, running a hand over my beard, and Wyatt laughs, slinging an arm around my shoulder.

“All right, I’ll stop badgering you. Let’s go have a beer.”

Before we walk away from the fire, I turn to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. We grew up in a house with a lot of hugging. My uncles love to give him a hard time about it, but my dad is very big on physical affection. His kids can barely walk past the man without him pulling us into a hug.

But ever since Skye, it’s been harder for me to show people how I feel. I’ve closed myself off so much, even more so than I think I realized.

“Thanks, man,” I say, voice a little gruff. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He hugs me back, tight. “Me too, kid.”

Then we walk back to the house side by side.