Page 119 of Carrick
Then she inhaled sharply, as if realizing how much she’d just said. Her gaze dropped, her shoulders sagging under the weight of everything she’d held in for far too long.
When she lifted her head again, her voice barely carried. “I’m sorry… I just want to know he’s okay.”
I reached for her hand like I’d done it a thousand times. And maybe I had—if not with touch, then with every word we hadn’t said but felt, anyway.
“I know,” I murmured. “And when it’s time, I’ll make that call. I promise.”
She gave a single nod, the motion small and stiff. But she didn’t look relieved. She looked like a storm held together by sheer will, fraying at the edges, every gust of wind threatening to tear her wide open.
I had no idea how to stitch her back together.
So I didn’t try to fix it. I didn’t offer empty comfort or hollow assurances. I just stood beside her, quiet and still, fingers wrapped around hers.
And I didn’t let go.
A little whilelater found us curled up in the living room, Bellamy leaning back against me in comfortable silence. She wasn’t better—not really—but she was calmer. Less walled off. And for now, I’d take that.
The sun had barely dipped below the tree line when Sully burst through the door with that feral energy he reserved for moments that needed breaking open.
“We’re going swimming,” he announced, hands on his hips like he was daring someone to argue. “And by we, I mean all of us. No excuses. No sulking. No sultry, brooding corners.”
He looked pointedly at me.
Then at Bellamy.
She blinked from the corner of the couch, half a blanket around her shoulders, an untouched cup of tea in her lap. It might’ve been hot outside, but we kept it cool in the house.
“I don’t have a swimsuit,” she said flatly.
“That’s fine! Wear something you don’t mind getting wet,” Sully replied, grinning. “None of us are going to care. Especially Carrick.”
Maddy, not far behind him, raised a brow. “For the record, this is called peer pressure. But effective peer pressure.”
Sully pointed at her. “Thank you for your support.”
Bellamy looked at me—less glare, moreare you going to make me do this?
I shrugged. “You could use the distraction.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It never is.”
She stared another beat… then—miraculously—set the cup down and stood.
“Fine. But if someone tries to dunk me, I’m biting.”
Sully lit up like Christmas. “Duly noted.”
Twenty minutes later, we were hiking through the trees, following a worn path lit by solar lanterns and fading dusk. Thepond sat tucked deep in the woods—private, still, its surface glassed with moonlight. It looked like a secret the forest didn’t want to give up.
The others spread out along the bank. Sully stripped first—of course—down to a black speedo that left nothing to the imagination. Maddy followed, rolling her eyes and tugging off her shirt to reveal a bikini. She’d clearly planned for this.
Bellamy hovered near the treeline. Arms crossed. Eyes scanning the water like it might bite.
I wandered over, lowering my voice for her alone. “No pressure. But they won’t stop until you give in.”
She glanced at me. “You’re part ofthey.”
