Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits #1)

Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits #1) Page 36

My father stood stoically still. He’d killed my soul and I wanted his in return. “Mom fell apart after you left her for the nanny. And then you stole custody of us. You left her with nothing. You were her whole world. She had nothing left to live for, no reason to take the meds. You left her right when she was getting her act together!”

His eyes narrowed. “Are those words yours, Echo, or your mother’s? You’re right on one count. I did everything I could to make sure I got custody of you and your brother. I hired the best lawyers weeks before I served your mother to guarantee she’d never share custody with me. My only regret is that I allowed visitation, to give her time to spew those lies and to hurt you.”

Mom had said Aires and I were a game to him. That he used us to hurt her. “You mean you regret having me. You regret that I found out that you will pick Ashley over everything and everyone else.” I screamed so loudly my throat became raw. Every part of me shook and heat flushed my cheeks and the back of my neck. Had he ever loved me? Had he? “How could you abandon me?”

The anger drained out of my father’s face, leaving him pale and old. “I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am.”

I sniffed and fought to keep the tears from falling. I would not cry in front of him. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d ripped me into a thousand pieces. But I needed rest. I needed all the voices and nightmares to go away. I had no one now. No one. And damn them for making me beg for the one thing that could grant me a few hours’ peace. “I want my sleeping pills. I’m tired and I need to sleep. For one night, I just need to sleep.”

Ashley slid by my father’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder. She never once looked at me. “I’ll get them. The doctor said you can move up to ten mg.”

“I’ll be in my room.” I left, not caring if I ever spoke to my father again.

NOAH

Last night, Echo called while I was at work. She left a message telling me that she was taking sleeping pills and wouldn’t answer her phone until morning. She’d sounded … destroyed.

On edge, I waited by her locker before school, but she never showed, leaving me sitting there in business technology losing my damn mind. Three messages. I left the girl three messages. Hell, I didn’t leave messages, yet I’d left this girl three. Where was she?

I stared at her empty seat in the front, willing her to magically appear. Mr. Foster droned on and on. Each second on the clock took three times longer than normal to tick away. My right pocket vibrated and I dropped my pencil in order to retrieve it. Both Isaiah and Rico shot me a glance the moment they heard the vibration.

When I checked the caller ID, my heart leapt. Echo.

“Mr. Hutchins?” asked Mr. Foster.

Damn. “Yes, sir.” My phone stopped vibrating as Echo went to voice mail.

“Is that a cell phone I hear?”

“Yes,” Isaiah piped up. “Sorry, sir. I forgot to turn mine off this morning.”

Mr. Foster looked back and forth between me and Isaiah, obviously not buying it, but he held his hand out to Isaiah. “You know the rules. You can collect it at the end of the day.”

Isaiah handed over his phone without another word, giving me a sly smile when he returned to his seat. I nodded my thanks. What did I do to deserve a brother like him?

He leaned over to me once Mr. Foster resumed his boring lecture. “Tell her I said hi.”

I TORE OUT OF CLASS, HITTING the speed dial in record time. My heart stuttered with every ring. Dammit. Pick up. Her beautiful voice filled the line. “It’s me. You know what to do.”

“You’re killing me, baby.” I hung up.

I reached my locker, threw my books in and checked voice mail. Isaiah sauntered to the other side of the hallway and leaned against the wall. Beth joined him seconds later, unlit cigarette in hand. “What’s going on?”

“Echo called last period and he missed it. Now he’s pissed,” Isaiah answered.

“No, I’m not,” I snapped. Yes, I was.

Isaiah shrugged while suppressing a smile.

Echo had left a short, lifeless message, “Hey, I guess I’ll try you later. Love you.”

Dammit, Echo. You gotta give me more than that. Lunch and three more periods. I wasn’t going to survive. “I’m going to grab some food. I’ll see you guys in the cafeteria.”

“Wait. We’ll come,” Beth called out. “I’ll smoke later.”

I took nothing with me to the cafeteria, so instead of heading to my table, I went straight for the line. Echo’s little gal pals gathered at their table, oblivious to the fact that somewhere on the other side of the school walls, she was suffering. I did a double take when blue eyes met mine.

Lila typed furiously into her phone before calling out to me, “Noah!” Her entire table froze and stared at her.

“Lila?” Grace asked meekly.

Lila sent Grace a death glare and walked over to me. My opinion of her grew. “Have you talked to Echo?”

“Messages only. What’s going on?”

Lila glanced over my shoulder. I followed her gaze to see Luke staring at us intently. She continued, “I don’t know. She called me last night, but I was out with Stephen.”

At that exact moment both of our phones chirped to notify us of a text message. We simultaneously pulled them out and I sucked in a breath as I read the message from Echo: I’m across the street.

Thank you, baby, for those four beautiful words. I turned on my heel and mumbled to Lila, “Let’s go.”

I hesitated when Lila continued to stare at her phone. “She needs me,” she said and her phone chirped again. “But she says it’s okay if I don’t come.” A war of emotions played over her face. “I have a test next period and …”

“You don’t skip.”

She smoothed her hair. “Look, she keeps telling me that you’re this great guy. Do you think you could wow me and keep my best friend together until I can take over after school?”

I could do one better. I could take care of her now and after school. “Yeah.”

“Tell her I love her, okay?” said Lila. “And I’ll be right there as soon as I can.”

“Yeah.” This girl really did care about Echo. “I can do that.”

WITH THE WINDOWS OPEN, ECHO sat in the driver’s side of the gray Honda Civic her father had bought her to replace the Dodge Neon. I slid my car next to hers. As I was about to cut my engine, she turned hers on. She stared at me as I rolled down my window.

“I want to go someplace,” she said, “but I don’t want to go alone. I’m sorry I asked you to skip.”

I wasn’t sorry. “I’ll drive you anywhere you want to go, baby.”

I hoped for a smile, but instead she shook her head. Whatever happened yesterday had to be big. “Will you follow me? I kinda need a few more minutes to myself.”

“Whatever you need.” Even though I craved to be breathing the same air as her.

“Noah?” she said before I rolled my window up. “Thanks for skipping for me.” And finally, she smiled. It wasn’t huge or full of joy, but still it was there.

“Anything for you.”

MOM LOVED DAYS LIKE THIS: spring warmth with those big fluffy white clouds against a royal-blue sky.

I hated this place, no matter the weather. Resthaven would always be that gray, rainy, muggy day in June, with my brothers and me standing under a half-assed thrown-together tent. Tyler strangled my neck, crying for Mom, and Jacob asked if Mom and Dad were going to get wet, explaining to me over and over again that Mom hated getting wet. She allowed no splashing in the bathtub. Dad was in a suit and Dad would be upset if it got wet.

For the first time in my life, I’d wanted to die. I wished I had been asleep in my bed and died right alongside my parents, but then if I’d been home, it never would have happened.

My guilt was a yoke around my neck. My burden to handle. And when I graduated, I’d make it right. I’d put my family back together again.

I parked behind Echo in the east garden, under the towering oak trees. Echo had caught the traffic light entering this place and I hadn’t, giving her a head start. She sat cross-legged in the middle of the cemetery section, resting her head on her joined hands, staring at a white marble tombstone. Her red curls moved with the gentle breeze and the sun shined directly on her—an angel right in the middle of hell.

She never took her eyes off the tombstone. “Thanks for doing this, Noah. I know being here is hard for you, too.”

Hard was an understatement, but it only showed how much I cared for her. “Do you think Mrs. Collins will blame me for your sudden urge to cut school?”

Echo opened her mouth to answer, but exhaled instead. I’d said it to lighten her mood, but she was too deep to see daylight.

I sat beside her. Unable to stop myself, I raked my hand through the curls flowing down her back. Touching her in this moment was a necessity. I liked the tombstone’s simplicity: Aires Owen Emerson: son, brother, Marine.

“What did you remember?”

She rubbed her chin against her clasped hands. “He left me there. At my mother’s. I called and he didn’t answer. He … um … didn’t.” Echo lowered her head.

I continued to comb through her silky hair and listened to the birds calling out to one another. Her shoulders never shook. No tears streamed down her face. The worst type of crying wasn’t the kind everyone could see—the wailing on street corners, the tearing at clothes. No, the worst kind happened when your soul wept and no matter what you did, there was no way to comfort it. A section withered and became a scar on the part of your soul that survived. For people like me and Echo, our souls contained more scar tissue than life.

She picked at the blades of grass. “I’m alone now. Aires is dead. Mom is God knows where. My friends … well … you know. Dad was a long shot, but I pretended I had him. I tried to become the daughter he wanted to love, but …” Echo shook her head. “It sucks to be alone.”

“Come here, baby.” And with my words, Echo leaned into me: soft, pliant, broken. “You’re not alone,” I whispered into her hair as I cradled her in my arms. “You’re not alone, because you have me.” And I love you, more than you could ever know.

Echo

Noah offered to call in to work so we could spend the evening together. A huge part of me hoped he would. I wanted to stay in his arms for the rest of my life. Because of that, it took every ounce of self-control to not jump on his offer. I knew he needed the money. Besides, Lila began texting me every two seconds the moment school let out.

“Your dad called my mom looking for you,” Lila said from my right. “She told him you were here.”

We sat on the massively wide stairs of her back deck, overlooking the field behind her house. Wind chimes tinkled with the gentle breeze and the sun kissed my bare arms. “Is he coming to get me?” He had to know I’d skipped school.

“No, but he did ask my mom to remind you that your curfew is midnight.”