Page 85 of Adrift Without You
“Then you don’t know me at all.” My hands tremble, and a bead of sweat trickles down my spine. What do I do? Do I keep him here until he sobers up and I have time to warn Ky? Will Ky ever be safe while Bruce is walking this earth?
“Come on, son. Give me the gun.” Bruce gets to his knees with a grunt, then he’s standing in front of me.
“I said, don’t fuckin’ move.” I keep the gun aimed at his head, and take a step back, keeping a safe distance.
“Give me the gun, Brendan. We both know you’re not gonna use it.”
“You need to sleep it off.”
Bruce chuckles, shaking his head. “Whether I do it tonight or tomorrow or next week it don’t matter. He’s as good as dead.”
I take a few more steps backwards, but there’s nowhere left to go, my heel hitting the wall behind me. My heart pounds erratically, pulse throbbing against my face. The hairs on my arms rise as goosebumps prickle at my skin. My hands grow steady as my sight comes into clear focus. I feel my feet connected to the floor and my spine straighten out. Looking into Bruce’s eyes, I see the truth.
I pull the trigger.
His head jerks back, the sound deafening. Then his body falls, landing with a sickening, dense thud.
“For Ky,” I whisper.
Chapter 44
Kyle
Now
Looking out of the car window, I have no idea where we’re headed. “Bren, where are we going?”
“Jeez Ky, it’s a surprise. Tellin’ you would spoil it.”
“Since when did you become the sort of man that plans secret anniversary dates?” I study Bren’s profile for clues.
“What, you complainin’?”
“Hell no!”
Bren told me to dress in casual clothes, including thongs, so this whole thing’s got me stumped.AndI caught him stashing something in the back of his Ute before we left. A part of me wants to burst into a fit of giggles because Brendan Young not only remembered our original teenage anniversary date but also put time into planning a romantic evening. The same Brendan that once told me two boys going on a date was too gay. Oh, have times changed.
The last few months have been busy but incredibly rewarding. Bren has reconnected with Ethan, and he’s steadily spending more and more time with us. My heart practically explodes when I watch father and son together. It’s the final missing puzzle piece slotting into place. We also purchased and moved into our dream home in Mornington, complete with a wraparound porch and a yard for our future grandkids to play in. The only thing left is for me to propose. I don’t want to rush Bren, but I won’t wait much longer. I want him to be my husband.
When we approach Frankston, I figure we might be going to a local bar or doing something fun like mini golf, but then he continues past all the shops and pulls off the road at Long Island Beach. My reaction is instantaneous, the memories from that night tugging tenderly at my heart. A lump grows in my throat, and my eyes fill with tears. Bren parks and turns off the ignition, already out of the car and fishing stuff out of the tub before I can move. He hasn’t spoken and I feel completely lost for words.
Climbing out of the Ute, the sound of gentle waves and the warm summer breeze take me tumbling back in time to a memory I have held protectively close to my chest. The sun issetting, the horizon a vivid spectacle of yellow and orange and red. I feel blessed.
Bren closes the tub then comes to stand at my side. “You’re quiet,” he says, uncertainty settling over his features. “Did I pick the wrong place?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Definitely not. Fuck, the memories…” I slide my hand around to the back of Bren’s neck and press my lips to his forehead, lingering for a moment. “I guess I wasn’t expecting this, is all. It’s perfect.”
“Come on.”
I follow Bren down the path towards the beach, realising how much planning and preparation he’s put into this. He has a picnic basket in one hand and towels and a blanket in the other. I don’t think I could have imagined a more romantic anniversary date. Long Island is generally a quiet beach, and even though night is fast approaching, we still set up a fair distance from the main path for privacy.
Bren unpacks the food, including champagne to wash it down with, although neither of us end up eating much. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I recall falling in love all those years ago—Bren’s touch leaving me dizzy and burning with a reckless need. I couldn’t have named the hunger back then—just that it rose with his touch and only he could sate it.
With the fading sun surrendering to the night and the beach now all but deserted, we gather some driftwood and start a small fire. It’s illegal, of course, but unlike back in the day, we can now afford the fine if we’re unlucky enough to get caught. The full moon casts a glow over the bay, and light shimmers across the small white peaks of the waves.
I lie down on the blanket, reaching for Bren to join me. “Come on babe,” I whisper, bringing his head to my chest. We watch the stars emerge one by one, accompanied by the soothing sounds ofthe peaceful bay. For a while we are quiet, caught up in our own thoughts.
Bren is the one to break the silence. “Back then, did you think we’d end up together?”
