Page 5 of Savage Heart

Something inside me withers up and dies when I hear those words. Lincoln has been my best friend my whole life. We’ve been inseparable for as long as I can remember. There’s a video of Lincoln climbing into my crib when I’m supposed to be napping and us bouncing up and down. He’s always been there.

And Iris got in a car and drove while she was drunk, killing him.

What the fuck?

Everything inside me shakes.

It’s a while before Lincoln’s parents come out. My parents rush toward them, hugging them hard, and then I move forward, hugging Jennifer first and then Manny. Lincoln’s teammates fill every available space, there to show their love. Manny and Jennifer weep, moving slowly through the crowd as each person has something to say about Lincoln.

Otis walks in and goes to talk to Mrs. Fowler. He’s Iris’s neighbor but more like family to her than her mom.

When Iris is brought out in a wheelchair, I hardly recognize her. Her face is bruised and red from crying, and one of her eyes is swollen shut. Her leg is wrapped, and her open eye flickers when it lands on me.

She stands, to the protest of the nurse, and hobbles over, ready to hug me, and I step away. I can barely see through the tears.

“What were you thinking, Iris? You killed Lincoln. You killed him! I will never see my best friend again because of you. I will never forgive you. Do you hear me?”

She wraps her arms around herself, shoulders shaking as she weeps. I take a step closer to her and get near her face, and in a colder voice than I ever thought myself capable of, I say, “You are dead to me.”

Otis moves next to Iris and puts his arm around her.

“That’s enough, Maverick,” he says.

He leans toward Iris, trying to get her attention, but she’s frozen in front of me.

I can’t stop shaking.

Grady puts his hand on my shoulder. “Come on, Maverick. Let’s go home.”

I stare at Iris for a long moment, and then I turn my back on her and walk away.

Nothing will ever be the same again.

Chapter 1: Pride Aside

Iris

Twelve years later

“Mom, where are my gym shorts?” Linc calls from his room.

“Clean laundry basket on my bed,” I say, flipping an egg. “Hustle. I know it’s the last day of school, but you still can’t be late.”

“Coming!”

He walks out of his room and leans his chin on my shoulder.

“Almost as tall as you,” he says.

“Uh, let’s not rush that. And you’ve got another six or seven inches to go, sir.”

He laughs, and I’m glad he still looks like my little boy in that moment.

As we’re eating breakfast, he clears his throat.

“Mom,” he says, sounding serious all of a sudden.

“Yes?”