Every Breath After: Part 1 (Lost Boys, #3)

by Jessie Walker

But then… then something shifted. I suppose if I had to pinpoint when exactly this shift occurred… Well, I’d be a liar if I said it wasn’t prom, and dancing with Jeremy, and the promises I made him.

“It might feel like life’s on pause for you right now, and that’s okay.” He nods, and something in me relaxes at his words. “But what you do during this pause? There’s no erasing it. When life starts up again, I don’t want you to have burned it all to the ground. You get me?”

“Is this what they gave you?” Jeremy asks, and when I lift my gaze to find him inspecting the little orange prescription bottle, even through my fog, I don’t miss the frown etched across his face.

Oh no...

“You’ll be careful, right? Vicodin…it’s really addictive.”

:(

Merry Christmas, Iz… I miss you. We all do. This is our second Christmas without you. Time seems to be speeding up, taking me further and further away from you. I wish I could stop it. Slow it down. Every day that passes, means less and less of a chance of you being found alive.

There’s so much I regret. So much I would’ve done differently. So much I would’ve told you. Now would be a good time for you to finally come home… give us a sign, something, anything. I’m sorry. I never should’ve left you I wish it was me

It just is what it is. The sky is blue, and the grass is green, Izzy’s still missing, and I, Jeremy Montgomery, am gay.

Or, worse, being tortured and abused and raped and who the fuck knows what else.

Yeah...

telling my parents I’m gay like it amounts to anything actually meaningful other than, oh wait⁠— I’m the only kid they have left. So much for their heteronormative wedding dreams coming true. So much for grandchildren, seeing as I’m pretty sure I won’t have any.

she’s hugging me so tightly, like she’s terrified I’ll disappear, because she can’t hug her. Mom loves me, she loves me. I know this.

He’s had the cast off for almost two months now, but still insists that it hurts. Hurts enough he still needs the Vicodin.

I could tell from the second they kicked in that night—the way he seemed to just sort of melt into this relaxed version of Mason I’d never met before, not even before Izzy, that prescribing those pills was a mistake.

I just wonder if they would have gone this long without saying it to Izzy, had it been my chair that was empty instead.

Oh my baby boy, my fucking heart

You know he probably thinks it too. Imagines it… wishes it…

Because there’s absolutely no way in this universe—in this timeline—that Mason Wyatt—Mason fucking Wyatt—is burying his face in my hair and kissing my head and holding me so tight I almost forget what it’s like to not be held.

In his arms, I’m a stand-in for someone else. In mine, he’s everything I’ve always wanted.

She beckons and screams Waits for me to concede I’ve got this hunger in me now Who knew poison could be so sweet? Is this how it started for him? I told myself I’d never be like him. Promised The sins of fathers can never be paid So long as their blood still flows in our veins FUCJIFNSHAJSJSJSJAJAJA Izzy. Izzy. Izzy. IZZY. Living from one tomorrow to the next I’ll be better I’ll be better Promises to keep

But it’s one thing to know it happens. Another thing entirely when your girlfriend might be a victim of such unimaginable horror.

“Ten missing girls were identified by those we rescued. All confirmed to be…deceased by those who recognized them. Izzy was one of them.”

“I don’t feel anything. I’m sorry. I don’t feel anything.” Over and over and over again, he chants this. And my chest is splitting right down the middle. “You’re lying.” I don’t even realize the words came from me, until his eyes screw shut with a wince. “You’re lying!”

And all I can think when I look at the round, shocked and wounded amber eyes of the boy who’s been my best friend since I was six—the boy I’ve secretly vowed to protect amongst all else—the boy who is currently looking back at me like I’m a stranger… This is all his fault.

Oh, ouch

This is his fault. I lost her because of him… Because of what I felt for him that night. Because of what I did.

And a single tear, the first I’ve ever seen from him, slips down Jeremy’s cheek.

Jeremy screams. The most heart wrenching scream I’ve ever fucking heard in my life. It rings out into the night, broken and savage and filled with more pain than words could ever do justice. More than I think any human is capable of carrying, much less storing inside for as long as he has.

I blamed it all on the boy in my arms, the one we always vowed to protect. All for one, and one for all… “I’m so sorry.”

“M-make it stop,” he sobs. I hold him tighter, rock him. “I can’t, I can’t…” I can’t fix this. I can’t protect him from this.

The funeral is huge. Bigger than it should be for an empty casket. Bigger than it should be for a seventeen-year-old girl who didn’t have nearly this many friends.

She’s forever seventeen. The reminder that I’m not just minutes older now, but years older, never fails to gut me.

Mason doesn’t come to the funeral. His mom tried to convince him. Gavin tried. Waylon tried. Even my dad tried. I didn’t.

Red roses. The flower she pretended to the world was her favorite. Because the truth is, Izzy’s favorite wasn’t a flower at all, but a weed—daisies.

I don’t get where any of his newfound hatred of me is coming from. But that’s what it is, isn’t it? Hate. I saw it that night in the kitchen. I saw it and I slapped him. I didn’t even know I was going to do it until it already happened, and all I remember thinking in that moment was, Come back. Please come back. Don’t leave me too.

“Please, Gavin,” he chokes out. “Just one more. Please, please, it’ll be the last time.” Gavin’s features are hard, unflinching, as he shakes his head. “No more, Mase.”

“Jeremy, give me a fucking Xanax!” he shouts. “No,” I whisper. His eyes widen, swirling with hurt and betrayal. The world slants on its axis as I recall wondering why my prescription seemed lower than it should’ve been in recent months.

Oh... My god...

Is that the real reason why he started sneaking over into my room at night? How many has he taken from me?

Oh my fucking heart

“You know, Mason,” I say. He lifts his head, glassy light-blue eyes meeting mine. “She was my sister.”

BOOM. You tell him, baby

But then his face hardens, his eyes go cold, and the villain side of him takes over, spewing spitefully, “Yeah, well, she was the love of my life.”

Wrong.

I can’t fill this emptiness in either of us, any better than a stuffed animal or Polaroid could fill an empty coffin.

The Mason I knew and loved… He’s not coming back either. He’s been washed away by vodka and Vicodin and this grief he’s content to let ruin his life and everyone around him.

“She’s the love of my life.” Yeah, well, you’re mine, Mason. So fuck us both I guess.

I’m worried about Mason. I’m terrified he’s going to do something stupid. I can’t lose him too. I won’t survive it. Please come back If not for me…than do it for him… Whatever will keep him here He needs you, not me

everything in me stills when I see three missed calls from Waylon and one from Phoebe. No… Please, God, no.

Oof...

“What’s going on? Is it Mason? Is he okay?” My words stumble out of me faster than I can keep up with. Because I know, I just know. My words are met with silence.

“Did you do it on purpose?” I ask him, point-blank. His mouth opens, closes, and…and something in me dies at the guilt etched across his face. My face hardens, and I spit, “Fuck you.”

He did do this on purpose…but not to die. To be saved.

“How could you?” “Jer—” “Did you even, for one fucking second, think about what this would do to me? What if no one got to you in time? What the fuck were you thinking?”

“You and my parents are all that keep me going sometimes.”

“I can’t lose you too. I hate you so much right now, but I can’t—I can’t—” My voice stutters out into gasps, and I cover my face.

“You haven’t…” “Not since that day.” His eyes lift to mine. I search his gaze. “Will you promise me the same?” A slight frown forms between his eyes. “You’ll stop. Get clean. If not for you, then do it for me.”

“Just gotta…hold my breath and count to ten, right?” He wets his lips. “Every breath after that…it’ll be a little easier.”

I clear my throat and look around the room at all the familiar faces, save for one. A new admit.

SHAWN?!