Page 137 of Big Bad Wolfe

Feeling validated in some crazy way by Aragorn’s hard-won approval, Zane headed for the beach.

Two hours later, Zane looked up from his sketchpad, sensing more than seeing Jillian’s approach. Still barefoot, she strode gracefully across the sand. The setting sun floated over the jeweled ocean in a glorious sphere of orange-gold, bathing her in its glow.

He put down his pencil and rose from his cross-legged seat on the blanket to meet her. He was barefoot as well, having kicked off his runners and socks when he’d arrived on the beach. “How’s Casey?”

“Happy as a clam in seaweed. He polished off a hot dog, some curly fries, and a bowl of chocolate ice cream. He and Pop are making a Lego city.” Compassion darkened her irises to the color of spring pansies. She touched his cheek, brushed at the dampness from the rest of the tears he’d shed during the past two hours. He’d still had a bit more grieving to do. “Are you all right?”

He managed a smile. “Getting there.” He tore the sketch he’d just completed off the pad and handed it to her.

She bit her lip. “Trevor.”

“This is the portrait I’d started right before he killed himself. I saved it. Carried it with me everywhere. But I could never bring myself to finish it. Somehow, the picture of him with only half a face seemed ... fitting, you know?”

“Yes. I can see why you’d feel that way.”

“Deep in my gut, I’ve carried around a load of guilt about Trev all these years. I always wondered if maybe—” He swallowed hard. “If only I’d picked up on a clue in his voice. Said something more profound to him on the phone. If I’d just driven a little faster.” He thrust trembling fingers through his hair. “Hell, if I hadn’t gone away to college— I could have stayed, protected him. It would only have been another year.”

“Survivor’s guilt.” She grasped his hand. “You had no idea what would happen, and you had your own life to live.”

“I realize that now. And something more, thanks to Dean. We’ve all got choices to make. The way my old man behaves is his choice. What Trev did was his choice. A horrible choice, born of pain and despair, but none of it was my fault. The way I respond to the past ismychoice.”

She squeezed his hand. “You’re a smart man, Zane.”

“Took me long enough.”

“You overcame your past at fifteen when you went your own way instead of following your father. You just didn’t realize it. But denying your emotions all this time held you back from the final step of healing.”

He stared at the restless waves and nodded. “Shoving everything deep down and ignoring it seemed so much easier.” He took the sketch of Trevor from her. “But I’m ready to release it.”

Hand in hand they followed the winding trail to the top of the rock tower. With Jillian at his side, Zane stood at the edge, looking out over the ocean. Waves kissed the base of the rock with a steady hiss, the setting sun engraving a golden path on the outgoing tide. He stared down at the sketch, at his little brother’s face … whole now, and serene. Just as Zane’s heart was now whole.

His fingers clenched on the paper, clinging to it a moment longer.

Then, holding the sketch over the crystal waves, he opened his hand. The paper fluttered in the soft breeze, cartwheeled gracefully across the water to land at the edge of the glowing path.

One last tear spilled down Zane’s cheek as Trevor drifted toward the horizon. “Goodbye, little brother,” he whispered. “Peace.”

The portrait floated along the bright path toward the sunset before gently sinking beneath the waves. The anvil dropped off Zane’s shoulders.

He’d miss his brother the rest of his life, but he would no longer carry the burden of sorrow and guilt.

He looked at Jillian, tears pouring down her face. He drew her into his arms. “Don’t cry for me or Trevor anymore, Jillian. We’re both free.”

Chapter 22

As the sky deepened from golden orange to cast a lavender canopy over the turquoise waves, Zane walked with Jillian back to the blanket.

He lifted her right hand and kissed her bruised knuckles. “You hurt yourself punching out Richard.”

The breeze picked up the ends of her hair and played with them, the wheat-colored strands gilded in the soft light. She wrinkled her nose. “More than worth it. He so had it coming.”

“I appreciate your heartfelt defense.” He stroked her warm, silky hair, then dropped to his knees in front of her.

She bit her lip. “Zane?”

“Remember, I told you I always keep my promises?”

“Yes.”

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