Page 21 of Fool Me

“Shit.” I breathe.

“It gets worse.” His tone is bitter and I don’t like it. “The sheriff that stopped was my girlfriend’s dad. He and I had a good relationship because I was respectful, followed his rules, and treated his daughter well. So he was understanding when he found me hauling my brother out of the ditch covered in mud.”

Fiona’s a unique name and there’s only one in Timberline Peak that I know of. I try to picture a teenage Atlas with her, and I can see it. “She’s a nurse at the hospital now, right?”

He shrugs and I realize that when he moved away, he truly disconnected from Timberline Peak.

“Could be.” He rolls his lips together before going back to his story. “I thought I was just going to be able to take him home and put him to bed, but then something fell out of his pocket. I tried to cover for him, moving my foot to try to hide the bag of pills—Cayon was fucked if Sherriff Evans found them. The pranks, the skipping school and drinking, the drag racing just outside of town, people could laugh those things off—rationalize it as a young kid sowing his oats.”

Atlas shakes his head like he thinks that’s as much of a cop out as I do. “All thatboys will be boysbullshit that keeps them from becoming decent men. Evans didn’t tolerate drugs, though. I knew it was a risk, and I thought I was quick enough, but his flashlight caught on them as we moved to get Canyon in the car.”

“Please tell me you sold him out.” It’s fleeting hope, but I can already sense it’s not how things unfolded.

“I should have, but I’d hurt my knee playing football earlier that year and tweaked it skiing with Canyon and Fiona earlier in the week. He knew that, so I told him it was my prescription from my old injury. But before I could pick them up and pocket them, he grabbed them. As soon as they were in his hands, he knew it was a lie—they weren’t pain pills.”

“How could he know that from a glance on a dark street?”

“Because they were Fiona’s Ritalin. Whether Canyon stole them or she gave them to him, I still don’t know.”

“So, he caught you covering for your brother?” There’s so much to unpack here—years of betrayal, multiple chances to change.

“Nope.” He drops his head rolling it side to side. “Evans hated Canyon. Mostly because he got away with so much shit right under his nose.” There’s pleading in his tone, like he needs me to understand this part. “If he thought Canyon stole them from her—from his house—there’s no way he wouldn’t have pressed charges. And he would’ve nailed him to the wall for anything and everything. So I took the blame, telling him I was stressed about finals, knowing he’d go easy on me to protect both of them.”

“You didn’t.” I’m dumbfounded, completely absorbed in the drama of all of it. And damn do I feel for Atlas. I also can’t help but wonder if there was more to Canyon’s issues all along. Maybe he never stopped using.

“I did, and I’ve always regretted it.” When he lifts his head, guilt is muddying his big brown eyes, making him look like the world’s saddest puppy. Like maybe we’re both thinking the same thing.

“Someone needed to hold your brother accountable, and it could have been you.”

“I wanted to give him one more chance and I shouldn’t have. I enabled him as much as my parents and everyone else.”

God, if that wasn’t what caused the rift between them, do I even want to hear what did?

“That was a big risk to take.”

He shrugs. “It was peak stupidity. But I figured my chances were better than Canyon’s.”

“Why do I get the feeling that wasn’t that last time you saved his ass?”

He runs a hand down his face. “Oh, it was. I distanced myself, but we still talked. I just never saw him the same after.”

“What made you stop talking then?” I ask, leaning in closer.

“When he sobered up, I laid into him. He told me it was the first time he’d taken anything and that he wouldn’t do it again. I threatened to tell our parents, and he flipped out, saying I was blowing it out of proportion. Things were already strained when I went back to school. At that point, I just assumed he’d stolen the Ritalin from Fiona because he refused to tell me where it had come from. And she swore she knew nothing about it.”

He throws back the rest of his bourbon like he needs it for this next part. His throat bobs with the swallow and my eyes track it. It’s too bad he shares DNA with my ex, because the good doctor is hot.

“When I came back to Timberline Peak for the summer, I went to Fiona’s, wanting to surprise her. No one knew I was in town, not even my parents.”

His jaw tenses and I want to reach out and brush my hand over it to ease the tension there.

“Her parents’ cars were gone and music was playing. I knocked, but no one answered—that wasn’t unusual. She loved music, and she’d get lost in it. I lost count of the number of times I’d walk into her room and find her dancing, completely wrapped up in the song.”

My stomach sours at where this is going. I’ve never wanted to be wrong more.

“When I walked in, Canyon had her bent over the kitchen counter.”

“No.” It comes out a whisper.

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