Read finding Reese.: a SAFELIGHT novel vol.2 (SAFELIGHT Series) Online

Authors: Imy Santiago

Tags: #The Safelight Series, #Volume 2

finding Reese.: a SAFELIGHT novel vol.2 (SAFELIGHT Series) (10 page)

“I love you, Stryder. Just don’t give up on me, promise?” Catalina’s words are firm and full of promise.

I raise my head, and look deeply into her eyes, which are slightly bloodshot by tears. My hands find the curve of her jaw, and I say, “I love you too, Catalina. I’d never give up on you, or us for that matter. Never.”

My eyes zone in on those heart-shaped lips of hers, wanting nothing more than to kiss them, but I hesitate. Not because I don’t want to, but because I love her so much, and I’m overwhelmed with our kind of love. You know the kind that makes you a lunatic, have out-of-body experiences, and do stupid shit. I love Catalina with every fiber of my being and want her to love me with the same fire and intensity. I’m not saying she doesn’t, because I know she loves me. There’s no doubt about that, but I’m a guy who needs his reassurances too. I close my eyes and breathe heavily, trying to dispel my insecurities and doubts. Catalina doesn’t deserve an ounce of my idiotic thoughts right now.

As if sensing my hesitation, Catalina raises her head, and her lips meet mine. She kisses me softly, and all of my negative thoughts are replaced with the reassurance that she loves me, and that alone is enough to make my blood travel south in a heartbeat.

My whole body shakes with anxiety as we step into the First Methodist Church in Casper. I’m flanked by Catalina as I push Jax in his wheelchair while Catalina holds his hand. Unlike Catalina, Jax and I knew Chris and Rem for many years, and seeing their closed caskets with red roses atop of them brings to the surface many beautiful memories that are now painful. My heart feels contrite, and a part of me just wants to break down and cry.

Crying is part of the grieving process, and if anyone knows about loss it’s Catalina. She has experienced so much death in her life. I have cried in the shower since the avalanche, because I, too, lost friends that day. And standing here in this church makes me teary-eyed, but I bite my lip and try my damndest to keep my shit together. One glance at Jax, and I can tell he’s trying to rein in his emotions, but the non-stop quivering of his lower lip gives him away. Placing a kiss on Catalina’s forehead, I excuse myself to pay my respects to Chris and Rem’s parents, and ask her not to leave Jax alone.

It was difficult leaving his place this morning. He was a mess, and I thank God Cat is here to help him through this terrible process. He refused to attend the wake last night because he didn’t want to see their open caskets. He said it would mean the finality of their once adventurous lives, so he took sleep medication instead, taking the easy way out and not coping with his losses head-on. I understand, though. Who am I to criticize him?

After greeting Chris’s and Rem’s folks and paying my respects, I see Jax and Catalina approaching the caskets on the base of the altar. I walk over and place a hand over Jax’s shoulder in solidarity and the other on Rem’s casket while Catalina kneels before the caskets and says a prayer in Spanish. As she prays, she clutches Jackson’s hand firmly while his free elbow rests against the wheelchair armrest. He lays his head into his hand and rubs his forehead with trembling fingers, his breathing becoming erratic as small sobs leave his chest.

Catalina ends her prayer and whispers something into his ear. Her arm wraps around his shoulder reassuringly, and he whispers back in between sobs.

“I should’ve aborted the run. I knew something was off. I was too embarrassed to admit to Rob I was wrong, and he was right. This is my fault.” His words break at the last word, and the sobs he was desperately trying to hold back come out full force. “I’m so sorry, guys. This is
my
fault. This is
my
fault! I’m sorry!” Jackson repeats endlessly until his cries turn into screams the kind that give you nightmares echoing against the walls of the church.


This is my fault, and I can’t do anything to bring you guys back! I’m sorry! Please forgive me, guys, because I fucking can’t!
” Jackson cries, his entire body shaking with grief. “
Please!

Catalina looks at me with tears streaming past her cheeks, and I bite my lip as tears of my own threaten to fall. Using hand gestures, we silently agree to back away from the caskets and find our seats, but as we try to move Jax’s wheelchair his hands reach out to the shiny casket housing Chris’s body.

“No! I need to beg for forgiveness. It was me who needed to die out there that day, not them, Jupiter! It was me who didn’t deserve to live. They need to hear me out, they need to forgive me!”

I kneel before him and place my hands over his knees. “Listen to me, brother. You can’t do this to yourself,” I command, using my shoulders to dry the tears that fall from my eyes. “You are
alive
for a reason, Jax. You can’t torture yourself because you lived and they didn’t. You survived and you are
here
for a reason, and I will
not
let you do this to yourself. You can cry, get upset, and even be mad at me, but
none
of this was
your
fault, do you understand me?”

Jax tries to brush me away, but I raise my hands from his knees to cup his cheeks and look into his bloodshot eyes. “You are
alive,
and we
love
you, and we
will
get through this, understood? Please stop beating yourself up over it,” I desperately plead.

Jax nods slowly as tears continue to trickle down his face, landing on his shirt and tie. Catalina slowly pushes the chair away from where the guys rest. As we work our way back to our seats, Chris’s and Rem’s parents come over to Jax, and crouch to hug him. In the silence of the church all I can hear are his never-ending cries for forgiveness, and while he bears no fault I couldn’t possibly fathom reacting differently if I were the one in Jax’s shoes.

Jackson was supposed to read a eulogy in honor of his dearly departed friends, but given his fragile state Catalina rises to stand in his place and walks towards the pulpit with purposeful strides. She grabs a guitar from the choir bench and brings it with her to the pulpit. After adjusting the microphone to her height, she fiddles with the guitar tuning the strings. Once satisfied, she speaks into the microphone.

“I didn’t know Chris and Rem like Jackson Reese and Stryder Martynus did, but I met them once in Port De Soleil when Jackson won the World Snowboarding Championship. While our encounter was short-lived, I knew the moment I met them they were special men. Friends of my best friend, and while their bodies are no longer with us, their spirit remains within each of us. We’ll feel them on the slopes riding alongside us, and when the time is right, we will all meet again. I’m not a woman of many words so I will let this song do all the talking. On behalf of Jackson Reese, Chris and Rem, this one is for you both,” she says as her fingers begin playing the opening chords of Skylar Grey’s “I Will Return.”

I touch Jackson’s shoulder and pull him close, as Catalina’s voice echoes through the walls of the church leaving everyone a teary mess. When she returns to our pew I hear Jax whisper his appreciation and commend her for words and song.

As we sit there during the rest of the funeral service and later at the burial, I can’t help but feel gratitude to God for sparing Jackson’s life. Through the emotional events of the day, Catalina focuses all of her attention on Jax and I couldn’t be more thankful. She was brought into our lives for a special purpose, and she is a prime example of the fact that life indeed moves on, even after loss, and if I’ve learned anything from her, it’s that hope is something you can achieve if you only believe.

The few weeks that follow the funeral are the hardest on Jax, and I’m glad we’ve spent every waking moment with him, but it’s almost time for me to leave the love of my life and my best friend behind. Catalina has been working endlessly with Jax, taking him to his physical therapy and psychologist appointments. So far he’s shown some improvement in his mobility; however his mind is taking a lot longer to recover than his limbs.

Back at Jackson’s ranch, we try to move on from the pain of the accident. All of our moods are affected mainly because Jax is sunken in a depression that is messing with all of our moods. Catalina and I are trying to be patient, and we’re working with him to get his life back on track. Despite having two broken ankles, Jax is determined to move around, and his mood while hostile, is a reflection of how he feels on the inside.

Leaving Catalina asleep upstairs after a long and exhausting day at the medical center with Jax, I run downstairs to work from his office. As I’m walking through the kitchen, I see him drinking vodka straight from the bottle with a pill bottle in front of him. I halt in my steps horrified.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I roar, in complete disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re doing this shit again!”

“Don’t just stand there and patronize me, asshole. You don’t know how much it fucking hurts, Jupiter. You don’t know what it’s like to wake up each day and have the death of two of your friends over your motherfucking head. Do not judge me, you son of a bitch!” Jackson screams, as tears roll down his face. “Don’t you fucking dare!” he cries, slamming his hands flat against the countertop.

My heart aches for Jax. A part of me wants to punch him in the face because clinging to a bottle hasn’t done him any favors in the past. And while I understand his pain, I can’t look the other way. I storm towards him, and rip the bottle away from his hands, and empty its contents in the sink.

“I will
not
let you do this to yourself. I will
not
sit idle and let you grieve like this. You want to cry? Cry! You want to scream? Then fucking scream! But this bullshit drinking will not happen again. I don’t give three shits if this pisses you off, but I will
not
let you fall again!” I yell, as tears blotch my face. “You’re not the only one who lost friends that day! I lost them too, but you don’t see me hitting the goddamn bottle and drowning my sorrow with fucking vodka. This is your life and you’re wasting it!”

Catalina runs into the kitchen barefoot in just her nightgown. “Guys, what’s going on?!”

I lift the bottle from the sink and wave it in the air. “This shithead thinks it’s okay to mix pills and booze!” I answer absolutely enraged.

Catalina inhales loudly and walks towards the counter where Jackson is sitting. Crouching down, she looks into his eyes. “Babe, you can’t do this,” she whispers. “Death is a traitorous bitch, and you’ve done so well with your sobriety. Now is not the time to seek comfort with booze, and you
know
it.”

Jackson reaches for Catalina’s face, and brings his head to rest against hers. “I’m sorry, Cat.,” he cries. “It just fucking hurts. I can’t breathe.”

“I know, baby. I know,” she says holding onto him.

I watch them in silence. My anger-fueled state dissipates and is quickly replaced with sorrow. Jackson is grieving, and drinking booze is only way he knows how to cope with Chris’s and Rem’s deaths. Catalina coaxes him back into his room so I take advantage of this opportunity to raid the entire house, searching for liquor bottles, and disposing of them. After my clean-up, I fill two black, lawn bags with almost three cases of liquor and beer combined. As I walk towards the trash bins, I shake my head in disbelief, and pray I got every single drop of alcohol out of the house.

At this point I have no choice. I have to tell Kathy. I dial her number, and she answers on the second ring.

“Jupiter?” she says alarmed.

“Kathy . . . The death of our friends has caused a major setback in Jackson’s sobriety. I did a sweep of the house after I found him drinking his meds with vodka.”

Kathy sighs. “Oh, this child is going to be the end of me. You don’t suppose he’s abusing his medicines too?”

“I don’t know, but I think you need to alert his medical team. He might be trying to substitute one fix for another.”

“Okay,” she sighs, resigned. “Thank you for alerting me. I don’t know what else to do. I’ve never understood his need for drinking. Let me give them a call, and talk to the doctors about it.”

“No problem. I’m sorry. We’ll keep an eye on him.” I end the call.

A part of me wants to stay because belligerent Jax is back, and while Cat and Kaelan seem to be managing him well despite his anger-fueled state, I know my presence soothes them all.

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