Growing Wildflowers | WLW

Yellowbell

She takes a long breath through her nose. "I wasn't going to say anything to you. I wasn't going to tell you but then, at the beach today, you were so sad about your dad, and I hate seeing you so down on yourself for making a decision for yourself and I think it might help if... God, none of this is making any sense, is it?"

"Take a breath," I offer. I've never seen Jamie worked up like this.

She snaps her hair tie against her wrist and takes a deep breath. "I looked up the police report of your car accident."

My breath hitches in my chest.

She knows.

She knows I was never found in the car. That must be what she's confronting me about. She probably thinks I'm a compulsive liar.

"The truck that hit you guys... It was registered to someone, and I pulled the photo they had on file for him and... I know you told me you don't want to know but Gwen... It was your brother's truck. Your brother is the one who hit you guys and he must have fled the scene before the police got there."

My head is spinning. The silence is somehow louder now that she's made her confession. "My br... Gunner?"

She nods, her lips pressed together.

"You're sure?"

She nods again, this time unlocking her phone and flipping to a different screen before she shows me the photo she took of the police database on her home computer. The image is grainy, a direct photo of the screen. Gunner's face is staring back at me; a mugshot from a prior incident.

Her eyes flick between my expression and the phone.

"That's him, right? If I'm wrong, I—"

"You're not wrong." It's all I can say. My head is spinning. Everything about the accident is somehow more confusing yet crystal clear at the same time.

Gunner was the drunk driver. I can see it, the way the truck swerved onto our side of the road. My dad yelled something to my mom, and then it was too late. He must have been going double the speed limit with how the front end of our sedan crunched into nothing. John told me he found me on the side of the road. I never asked how but now I know it was because of Gunner. Did Gunner call him for help? Did John look at the clock one night and realize his son should have been home hours ago and go out looking?

My jaw clenches. My eyes prickle with tears. Sophie's words on the beach replay in my head. Tell John I say hi. His son's a murderer and John used to run with those unhinged blood suckers? A sinking feeling forms in my gut. Apparently, I don't know as much as I thought I did about the guy who pretends to be my dad, but John is still predictable, and he's worried about me, so I do know he'll be here soon.

"I'm sorry, Gwen." Jamie's voice pulls me back to reality, back to the warm interior of her car which smells like leather and coconut sunscreen. "I thought you should know before..." She shakes her head. "I thought you should know the truth before you make any decisions about moving across the country with them."

I look at her, but I can't think, can't speak and before I can force myself to come up with something, John's headlights bounce into Aurora's driveway. His tires screech to a stop on the pavement followed by three doors slamming shut.

"I should go," I say, and Jamie looks like she wants to stop me but instead, she forces her best attempt at a smile and nods.

The walk up Aurora's cobblestone path goes by in a blur and before I can think better of it, I'm in the house, my fists clenched around Gunner's collar, slamming him back against the wall. But I underestimate my strength because we both go toppling through the other side and crash into the kitchen. Before Gunner can figure out what's going on, I'm throwing punches into his jaw, his nose, wherever my fist lands and I know it's not hurting him because it's nighttime and if I were, I would also feel the broken bones in my hand but the action feels... good so I keep going. Until John's hands are ripping me back and Gunner's left on the floor, a stream of black blood flowing from his nose.

"What the hell has gotten into you, Gwen?" John is shouting. Bri is trying to hide her smirk behind her hand, but I can still see the smile in her eyes. Aurora is staring at the broken wall in her kitchen, eyes wide, a book clutched in one hand, reading glasses in the other.

"Gwen," John repeats but I ignore him, jab my finger into Gunner's chest as he pushes to his feet.

"You killed my fucking parents," I spit.

The room goes still.

Gunner's expression falls as he holds the back of his hand to his bloody nose. The look on his face is all the confirmation I need. Jamie was right. Gunner killed my parents.

I turn on Bri. "Did you know about this?"

She shakes her head fast, her eyes wide at the accusation.

I look at John for confirmation.

He shakes his head slowly. "She didn't know."

I look at Aurora but my throat clenches. I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but instead, tears stream down my cheeks. "Did you know?" My voice is soft now, hoping to God she proves me wrong but somewhere deep in my chest I already know her answer. "Did you know Gunner killed my parents?"

Aurora's lips pull into a sad smile, and she nods.

I don't say anything. I walk past them into her guest bedroom and begin stuffing my clothes into a duffel bag. I don't know where I'm going but I need to get out of here; I need to get away from everyone.

There's a light knock on the door and even though I don't say anything, Aurora lets herself in and sits on the edge of the bed while I stuff a hoodie into the bag.

"It wasn't my place to tell you."

I ignore her, pull the struggling zipper closed and swing the bag over my shoulder. I dare a glance at her before I leave and regret it immediately. My heart sinks when I notice the singular tear that streaks her cheek before she can wipe it away. I leave anyway.

John's in the hallway, still and silent, hands shoved deep in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the ground. He grabs my wrist as I walk by. "Come on, Gwen. Where are you going? You can't sleep on the street."

I rip my hand away from him. "Actually, I can. I can do whatever the fuck I want." I pull the front door open, ready to storm out, but Leroy is blocking my path.

He removes his purple tinted glasses and clears his throat. "That won't be necessary, Gwendolyn. I have a few questions about what happened on the beach tonight. Come with me, please."