Page 81 of Savage Heart

Everything feels like dreamland after that. I’m crying. My leg hurts so bad, and Lincoln is holding his head.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Lincoln cries. “This is bad, Iris. This is so fucking bad.” He opens the car door and steps out, and I do the same, stumbling onto the grass.

He catches my hands and looks at me, panicked.

“I can’t get caught, Iris. This is my one chance out of here. If they find out I’ve been drinking, they’ll take my scholarship, I’ll go to jail, I’ll lose everything,” he pleads.

I put my hands to my stomach, suddenly worrying that maybe the baby’s not okay. His eyes drop to my stomach, and he lifts my chin, so my eyes meet his.

“I don’t want our baby to have a dad in prison,” he says.

“I’ll say I was driving,” I tell him.

His shoulders sag, and he hugs me. “Thank you. Thank you.” He hugs me harder. “Thank you, Iris.”

I nod. “It’s best this way.”

His hands are shaking when he pulls his phone out.

“I’m calling my brother,” he says.

Chapter 21: A Dream

Iris

I can barely breathe through my tears. It feels like I’m reliving every moment of that night all over again.

Tears are streaming down Maverick’s face, and he shakes his head. “No. It’s not your fault. It was Lincoln’s choice to drive when he was drunk. He was stubborn when he wanted to be. He could’ve asked me or anyone else to take you home.”

“I think he felt bad for how much we’d been arguing. He was worried about me and being sweet. Trying to make up for . . .” I shake my head. “It was a horrible mistake, one I’ll never forgive myself for.”

I press my palms into my knees.

“The sound of metal still lives in my head.”

He leans forward slightly, like he’s bracing himself.

“When the car stopped, Lincoln was crying.” I stare at the floor. “Just crying and apologizing. Over and over. He kept saying he was going to be in trouble.”

My voice cracks, but I don’t stop.

“He had blood on his head,” I say. “Not much. But enough to scare me. We got out of the car and onto the grass. I remember being afraid of the car catching on fire. I don’t know why.”

I breathe in. Out.

“I thought he was fine,” I say. “He was talking. Standing.”

My hands curl into fists.

I look at Maverick then. “By the time anyone else got there, the story was already forming. Brandon told the police I was dodging a deer, and that’s what caused the wreck. And I let him, because it felt like the right thing to do. I didn’t want Lincoln to get in trouble or to lose his scholarship. That was his way out of here. But because I had the Solo cup in my hand and was throwing up, everyone from the party assumed I had been drinking, and that’s the story everyone believed.”

Silence stretches between us, thick and fragile.

“I never dreamed he would die. I didn’t believe the doctor at first when he came back and told me Lincoln was gone. And then I was released and came out. Everyone was there . . . and you know what happened next.”

Maverick’s face is pale.

“I’ve been carrying it alone for a long time,” I say. “Because every time I tried to set it down, someone reminded me why I deserved the burden.”