Chapter 3

Jace:

After catching up with Reid, seeing Calla, seeing the stares of people from my past, it was all too much. I said bye to Reid and walked back to my old Chevy pick up. The drive from the meet to my shack took less than ten minutes, but I swear it was the longest ten minutes of my life. I kept the windows down, hoping the river air would clear my head. Instead, every mile brought another memory. 

Calla climbing into that Mercedes. Reve opening her door. Her looking at me like I was nothing. Like we'd never spent half our childhood covered in mud and gasoline. Like I'd never promised her brother we'd always have each other's backs. My hand drifted to my chest. Right over my heart. I rubbed slow circles against my hoodie until the ache dulled enough to breathe.

"Breathe, Jace," I muttered to myself. The old Chevy rolled down the narrow road that hugged the Calusa River, live oaks arching overhead like old friends welcoming me home. Spanish moss swayed in the warm night breeze, casting dancing shadows across the windshield. The river had always smelled the same. Salt. Mud. Fish. Summer. Home. It didn't care who you were. Didn't care who the city thought you were. It just kept flowing. Pushing forward to the abyss of the ocean.

I turned onto a gravel driveway that barely deserved the name. A tiny two-bedroom fishing shack sat tucked beneath a cluster of cypress trees. Peeling white paint. Rusted tin roof. Crooked front porch. The dock leaned a little farther into the water than I remembered. Perfect. It wasn't much. But it was mine. For now. The porch light next door flickered on. I smiled before I even climbed out. My mom. Some things really didn't change. The screen door banged open.

"There he is." I looked up just as she crossed the yard barefoot, carrying herself with the same determined stride she'd had my entire life. She wrapped me in a hug before I could say a word. "My boy."

"I was gonna come over."

"Liar."

"I was."

"You would've sat in that truck for another hour."

"...Probably."

She leaned back, cupping my face. "You eating?"

"Sometimes."

"You look skinny."

"I've always looked skinny."

"You look skinnier." I laughed.

"There he is," she whispered.

"What?"

"My smile." The words caught me off guard. She squeezed my shoulder before disappearing back into the house. A minute later she returned carrying a six-pack of beer.

"I bought these because I had a feeling."

"You've always been creepy."

"I raised you."

"Exactly." She handed them over.

"Dinner tomorrow."

"I'll be there."

"No excuses."

"Yes, ma'am."

She kissed my cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too." She walked back inside without another word. No questions. Not tonight. She knew me too well. I grabbed the cardboard carrier and headed toward the dock. The boards creaked beneath every step. Still warped. Still uneven. Still somehow exactly where my feet expected them to be. The river stretched endlessly beneath the moonlight. Black water. Silver reflections. The distant hum of boats somewhere closer to the inlet. A fish jumped, leaving ripples spread across the surface. I sat near the end of the dock and popped open the first beer. The hiss echoed across the quiet water. I wasn't much of a drinker anymore. Tonight didn't count. I took one long pull. Cold. Bitter. Familiar.

My feet dangled over the edge. The water lapped lazily against old wooden pilings. Across the river… The Vance house was gone. I still couldn't get used to that. For twenty years it had been impossible to imagine this stretch of river without that sprawling white house overlooking the water. Now there was glass. Steel. Floor-to-ceiling windows. The kind of place that looked beautiful in magazines. It didn't belong here. Neither did Eastside. Camden used to joke the river kept rich people humble. "Doesn't matter how fancy your dock is," he'd say. "Everybody smells like fish after they fall in." I smiled into my beer. God. I missed that idiot. A breeze carried laughter from somewhere upstream. Kids. Probably sneaking out after curfew. It made me think of another night. Another dock. Another summer.

"I bet I can make it to the buoy first." Camden was already halfway through pulling his shirt over his head.

"You cheat every time Cam."

"I prepare, J, totally different."

"That's literally cheating." He grinned.

"I don't hear Bubblegum complaining." A twelve-year-old Calla planted her fists on her hips.

"I am not swimming with you idiots."

Camden raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"No!"

He shrugged.

"Guess Jace wins by default."

She narrowed those big brown eyes. "I hate both of you."

Three… Two… One…

She dove before either of us.

I laughed so hard I nearly fell off the dock trying to catch her. "She cheated!" Calla surfaced twenty yards away.

"Nope!" she laughed hysterically, spitting river water was she paddled.

"You started early!"

"You started talking!"

Camden shoved me into the river before I could answer. Cold water swallowed me whole. When I surfaced, both of them were laughing so hard they could barely tread water.

I blinked. The memory faded with the breeze. Silence returned. Funny. For two years I'd tried not to think about them. Now every inch of this town was forcing me to. I reached into my pocket. My trusty Zippo. Click. Snap. Click. Snap. The rhythm echoed over the water.

"I should've seen it." The words slipped out before I could stop them. The river offered no reply. "I should've known something was wrong." Every night. Every damn night. I replayed the race. Every shift. Every corner. Every second. Searching. Looking for the moment everything went wrong. Camden's taillights. The sudden fishtail. The way his brake lights never came on. The sickening crunch of steel. The explosion. The fire. People screamed. I screamed louder. I'd gotten to his car before anyone else. Burned my hands trying to rip the driver's door open. I could still smell melting rubber. Still hear twisting metal. Still feel the heat against my face. I closed my eyes. Not tonight. Not yet. The lighter clicked shut.

Across the river, the lights of Eastside shimmered like stars reflected on black water. Somewhere over there… Calla was probably with Reve. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth. I took another drink. Then another. I wasn't jealous. Not exactly. Jealous implied I had some claim to her. I didn't. Not anymore. Maybe I never had. She was Camden's kid sister. The little shadow that followed us everywhere. Then one day she'd stopped being a kid. I'd noticed. God help me, I'd noticed. Then Camden died. And every feeling I'd buried got buried with him. Or so I'd thought. Seeing her tonight proved otherwise. I rubbed the center of my chest again.

"You'd laugh at me." The words were meant for Camden. "You'd tell me to stop being an idiot." I could practically hear his voice.

"Then quit acting like one."

I chuckled softly. "I know."

The river answered with another gentle wave against the dock. I looked up toward the stars. "I'm back." The words felt heavier spoken aloud.

"I'm gonna figure it out." No matter how long it took. No matter who hated me. No matter what it cost. Because this wasn't just about clearing my name anymore. It was about Camden. The kid who'd shared every scraped knee, every busted engine, every impossible dream. The brother I'd chosen. Someone had taken him. Then they took his reputation. Mine too. But they made one mistake. They let me live.

I stood, setting the empty bottle beside the dock post. The night breeze lifted my hair as I stared across the river toward the place we'd once believed we'd never leave. "I came home for you, Cam." The words disappeared into the darkness. "And I won't leave until I know who stole you from us."