The Broken Road (17 page)

Shane’s eyes softened and he put his arms around my neck and kissed my forehead. “You’re right about that, babe.” He let out a heavy sigh and dropped his arms. “I’m going to jump into the shower. Do you have plans for the night?”

“Nope. Let’s go rent a movie. I’ll wait for you to change and we can go together and pick something out,” I replied, brushing the hair out of my eyes.

Shane nodded. “It will be good to relax for a night,” he said, almost more to himself than to me.

I finished the dishes and pulled towels out of the dryer. I was in the process of folding them, when Shane’s phone rang. I was determined not to be that type of girl to check her boyfriend’s phone. I ignored the phone until mine rang a minute later. Someone was trying to get a hold of Shane, I thought, as I checked the caller ID. It was a number I did not recognize and hesitated before answering.

“Hello?” I asked cautiously.

“Megan! Where’s Shane?” Adrian's frantic voice came over the phone.

“Shane’s in the shower. What’s wrong Adrian? What happened?” I asked, worried. Adrian was usually so calm and cool. Hearing him like this was not a good sign.

“Megs, its Eric. He’s been shot,” Adrian said in a low voice. My heart stopped for a beat and then a rush of fear went through my stomach.

“What the hell happened? How did he get shot? Is he okay?” I demanded.

“Just get Shane and tell him to meet me at the hospital in Annapolis,” he cried and hung up the phone. Dread came over me and I was scared. Eric is practically a brother to Shane. I dropped the phone on the table and ran upstairs. Shane was still in the shower. I opened up the door and stood in the doorway, contemplating how I was going to tell him.

“Babe, you waited too long to join me. I’m just getting out,” he called over the sound of the water. I closed my eyes. The thought of telling him this news made my stomach feel like lead. Shane got out and wrapped a thick navy blue towel around his waist.

“Megan? What’s wrong?” he said, coming over to me and grabbing my arms. Tears streamed down my face.

“Shane. Adrian just called. He said that Eric’s been shot.”

Shane’s eyes went hard and his body turned rigid. Without a sound, he dashed into the bedroom. I followed him and watched him throw on jeans and a graphic t-shirt. “Where are my shoes?” he called, looking under the bed for them. I found them near the door and silently handed them to him. He grabbed his watch and wallet and thundered down the stairs. Wordlessly, I followed him. I grabbed my coat and purse and quickly locked up. He was waiting for me in the truck. Shane was stoic, his body tight with emotion but nothing showing on his face. I could see that his hands were softly shaking.

“Hey. He’s a tough guy. He’ll be okay,” I said softly, putting my hand on his arm. Shane just nodded mutely. We quickly navigated the back roads to the hospital. The highways were faster, but I wanted to avoid ending up stuck in traffic and a speeding ticket.

As we pulled up to the hospital, I could tell he was going to jump out of his skin. “I'll park the truck, just go. I’ll find you,” I insisted. He got out and I slid over. When I finally found everyone, I saw Adrian comforting Rachel. Tears streamed down her face and her body was shook with sobs. I could feel my throat closing up and I looked desperately around for Shane. He was sitting in a chair, with his head in his hands. I hurried over to him and threw my arms around his body. He gazed at me, tears in his eyes. I didn’t have to ask, I already knew. “Oh God, Shane,” I said softly, crying softly for him.

We sat there, amid the hustle and bustle of the emergency room. A few minutes later, I heard an unmistakable wail of agony. We both looked up. Eric’s father and Adrian were holding up Eric’s mom, Marie. Shane rushed over to help. “Why, Shane? Why my son?” she screamed, holding onto Shane for dear life. Then she suddenly smacked Shane across the face. He didn’t even flinch.

“You brought him into that life, Shane. He was trying to get his life straight. He was doing so well! Then you go and bring him back into a life of dealing and drugs. This is your fault!”

Shane looked sadly at Marie, tears running down his face. “I’m so sorry. I tried to talk Eric out of it. I didn’t want to get him involved. This was not supposed to happen.”

“Get out of here, Shane. You do not deserve to say goodbye to him!” she screeched, her short round body balled up tight. I could tell she was going to strike again, so I rushed over to pull Shane out of the line of fire.

As we walked away, Rachel grabbed Shane by the arm and threw her arms around him in a bear hug. “Don't worry, Shane. Mama loves you,” she choked out. Shane whispered something in her ear, which made her break down in sobs. He kissed her on her forehead and shook Adrian’s hand. He put his arm around my waist and we walked out of the emergency room and into the setting sun.

We walked to the truck in silence. His rage and pain radiated off his body. I wanted him to know that I was here for him. As we got in, I looked at him and said, “I’m sorry Shane. If you want to talk…”

“I'm fine,” he interrupted, the sadness replaced by determination. I didn’t respond, just watched his face as we sped down the highway. He was being reckless, almost daring the police to pull him over. We made it home without incident and he walked upstairs and slammed our bedroom door shut.

My heart broke for him. I felt helpless and unsure of what to do. I know that just being here would help but I wished I could do something more, I thought. I placed an order of flowers for Eric’s parents and sat at the kitchen table. My thoughts wandered to the exchange Eric’s mother had with Shane. Since when did Eric deal drugs? Did Shane ever try to get him out of it? I wondered, as I made some tea. I quietly carried the tea up the stairs and knocked on the door.

“Yeah?” he demanded as he flung open the door. The anger in his eyes and his face set in stone, he looked different. Shane did not look like the same man that I had slept with last night. He had changed his clothes into a black oversized hooded sweatshirt, clearly about ready to leave. Taken aback by his change in demeanor, I struggled to find my voice.

“Can I do anything for you? I’m here if you need me,” I said timidly. He seemed on the brink of losing it.

“No,” he said roughly, as he brushed past me, duffle bag in hand. I quickly glanced at our room. Drawers were out, the closet door wide open with clothes hanging haphazardly. I quickly set the tea down on the dresser and rushed down the stairs.

“Wait. Where are you going Shane?” I asked in panic. I didn’t want him to do anything stupid, like try to find whoever killed Eric. Shane ignored me and headed out the door. I raced after him.

“Shane!” I shouted, “Goddammit! Will you just stop for a second?”

“I have to leave Megan,” he said, throwing his bag in the front seat of the truck and turning to me. The pain in his face was the only emotion I saw. Shane tried to get into the truck but I pulled his arm back.

“No. Stay here. Talk to me,” I pleaded. I don’t want him to leave. He can’t leave. I won’t let him.

Shane sighed with impatience. “Megan, I have to.”

“The hell you do. Why? Where are you going?” I demanded. I don’t care if I look crazy, I’m not letting Shane leave.

“I just have to get out of here,” he growled, turning back to his truck.

I pulled back hard on his arm. “Please don’t leave me like this,” I whispered.

He pulled me into his arms and crushed his lips to mine. As if he were trying to memorize the way my lips felt, the way they tasted. I kissed him back with the same passion. Just as quick as it started, he pulled back.

“Be good,” he whispered as he got into his truck. The engine roared and he peeled out of the driveway. I watched him until he disappeared around the corner, not knowing when or if he was coming back.

Chapter 16

Days passed with no word from Shane. I tried to help Rachel and Marie make the funeral arrangements, but felt in the way. I stumbled through the week, going through the motions at work. My heart mourned the loss of Eric, but my deepest ache came from missing Shane. I felt empty inside. By Thursday, I was an absolute mess. I couldn't stand not knowing where he was, if he was okay. Despite my determination not to fall for him, I had. Hook line and sinker. I was in love with him. I had gotten used to having him in the house, having him around all the time. It felt like something was missing.

Eric’s funeral was on Friday, so I had the day off. I took Penny for a rare morning jog, hoping to clear my head. It was a beautiful May morning, with a slight breeze and clear skies. I had been keeping in touch with Rachel about the arrangements, but she never mentioned if she contacted Shane. I sent him a text message with all the information with no response. I wasn’t sure if he would show. As I dressed, I kept a watchful eye on my phone; for a call, a text, for any sign that he was coming.

I was walking out the mudroom door, when I saw Shane come up the driveway. As always, he looked absolutely gorgeous. Dressed in a gray linen suit, a black button down shirt and black tie, he looked like he was a model posing for a Secret Service ad. I gave him a small smile and hoped he couldn’t hear my heart trying to pound out of my chest.

“I guess you got my message?” I asked tentatively, when he got close. I could smell his cologne and it took all I had not to leap into his arms. I wanted to ask him where he had been, if he was okay, if he missed me. But it wasn’t the right time.

“Yeah, I did. I’m sorry that I didn’t call you back. Are you ready to go?” he asked quietly, taking my hand. His touch sent my heart reeling. He led me down to the truck and opened the door for me. He climbed into the driver’s seat, leaned over to me, and gently kissed my lips. I let my eyes close briefly and sighed. I missed that. I missed him.

The drive was quiet. There were so many questions running through my head, but I waited. I didn’t want to get him anymore upset than he already was. We drove the short distance to the church and arrived with ten minutes to spare. Rachel, Marie, and Adrian were waiting outside, greeting their guests. Marie greeted Shane with open arms.

“Oh, Shane. I am so sorry. Please forgive me. I know it’s not your fault,” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. Shane squeezed her back, his eyes closing in grief. He said something softly to her, causing her to nod. I was curious as to what he said. I only heard the words “Doing what I had to do.” What did he mean by that?

I didn't have time to ask, as Marie gestured us into the church. We sat in the second row, behind Eric’s family. The whole town had turned out to pay their respects. The service was beautiful, with the traditional hymns and verses. Shane was stoic, silent throughout the service, emotion barely registering on his face. When it came time for the pallbearers to come forward, Shane stood with our friends Ryan, Ben and Adrian,, men who are practically brothers at the funeral for one of their own. Bob Dylan’s, “Forever Young,” normally out of place in a church, filled the air as they carried Eric’s casket down the aisle. Eric was laid to rest underneath a large oak tree next to a soccer field. Memories of him playing soccer with the boys caused me to choke back a sob.  After the service, Eric’s family was having a reception at their home and I asked Shane if we planned on attending.

“No. I need to get back to the house,” he muttered as he led me away. He seemed to be in a hurry because we left the cemetery in a rush. Something else was going on. Something more than his best friend dying and it was time I knew.

I turned to him and said, “I know you’re going through a lot, Shane. Please. Please talk to me. Maybe I can help. If anything, it will feel good to get this off your chest.”

Ignoring me, Shane turned the radio up. Heavy metal music filled the cabin of the truck. Fine, he didn't want to talk. We'll have to talk at some point soon. We will have to deal with this together.

We arrived back at the house and he charged inside. I followed him up to the bedroom, where he was changing his clothes. Another duffel bag was sitting on the bed, opened.

“You’re leaving again? Why? What the hell is going on Shane?” I demanded. I was flabbergasted that he would leave so quickly. I understood that he needed to come to grips with Eric's death, but I needed him here.

“I can’t stay here Megan. I can’t do this anymore,” he muttered, throwing balls of socks and underwear into the bag.

“What do you mean ‘you can't do this anymore?’ Do what exactly? Talk to me Shane!” I cried, pulling his clothes out of the bag. He grabbed my hands and threw them aside.

“People have gotten hurt because of me. It’s my fault Eric’s dead. I don’t want to be responsible for your death too,” he said angrily. Shane threw a sweatshirt and a pair of shoes into the bag. He walked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. I flung open the door. He was standing at the sink, getting his things from the medicine cabinet.

“Shane. Wait. I don’t understand. What’s going on? How is Eric’s death your fault?” I asked. I was so confused. Why did Shane think that he was responsible?  Shane pushed past me and into the bedroom. I trailed behind him, impatient for answers. He dumped his shaving cream, razor, and toothbrush into his bag.

“Eric died in a deal gone bad,” Shane said impatiently. “Last year, he got into a bad situation and needed some cash. He knew I was working for Reggie then so Eric started dealing. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen. He was my partner, of sorts. We would be each other’s back up. So when I got out, he took over my list. I didn’t want him to; he insisted, saying that he needed the money,” he said defeated.

“When was the last time you saw him?” I asked.

“At the bonfire. That’s what we were arguing about. I didn’t like the way he was handling Reggie. Reggie has these connections to the Cruz cartel in Jersey, Florida and Mexico. You don’t want to cross Reggie. He doesn’t play around. He has no issues with putting a bullet in someone’s head. This whole organization is huge, with Reggie’s cousin, Christian, running the Jersey end. Reggie is terrifying, but Christian… he puts the fear of the devil in me. I've only met him once. But that’s all it took. I tried to warn Eric. I begged and pleaded with him to lay low and keep to the background. Eric didn’t listen, and started making waves about how much of the money Reggie was taking and started talking trash about the whole organization.” Shane sat on the bed and shrugged sadly. “ I tried everything I could for him. I didn't know what else to do.”