Buried Alive Page 24

  “Not bothering with a glass?” Graham teased, his eyes widening when he watched me down it straight from the bottle. “Rhys…take it easy. You have to train tomorrow. And probably do a few interviews.”

  “Fuck both.” I took another guzzle.

  “No.” Graham shook his head. “This is not the time to fall apart. We’re so close. You have competition in two weeks. Don’t let some girl get the better of you. It’s not like you, Rhys.”

  Oh, if it were simply some girl. I ground my teeth until the warmth hummed in my chest, but I had no inkling if my muscles were responding to the alcohol. Desperate to feel it, I gulped more, my esophagus burning from the liquid.

  Hannah had never been simply “some” girl. Somehow I had known it the moment she walked into my room. It was why I had forced her to work for me exclusively. Even then I wanted her, to claim her, to watch her riding me until both of us couldn’t move.

  Hannah. The sexy, funny, mysterious waitress.

  But now all I could see was Brennley. Though I hated it, she was right. I don’t think I would have ever seen her as anything but that girl…the one who had been my brother’s.

  I snorted as I moved to the sofa, plunking down with the bottle on my lap. As if I never left, the splintered TV was still on, replaying the story. I groaned. “Of course.” The only space on the screen not broken displayed a picture of Hannah. I couldn’t get away from her. She was haunting me along with Jonah.

  Jonah.

  I couldn’t deny the confusion I felt at knowing the truth. Guilt. Anger. Was it okay I felt a little different about him even though he was still gone? I didn’t love him less because he was gay, but knowing he didn’t trust me enough to tell me changed something in me. Even though we weren’t close, he was still my brother. I hated that we’d been kept apart, trained in different countries. Why hadn’t my parents fought to keep us all together? How different would my relationship with Jonah have been if I had lived here too? Been part of their world. Been a part of that group. With Hannah.

  My legs bolted up, and I began to pace.

  “Rhys!” Graham’s voice broke through my thoughts. “What the hell is going on with you?”

  “Nothing,” I grumbled. Graham’s presence annoyed me. The one person I wanted here was Shaun. He was good at centering me and trying to bring me back from the blackness. “When does Shaun get back?” He had left the morning his daughter went into labor.

  “Tomorrow.” Graham leaned against the island, my attention landing on where he rested.

  Oh hell. I still couldn’t look at the counter without thinking of Hannah. Her body moving against mine as I thrust into her over and over. Her moans.

  I was done with her, and I wanted to walk away for good. But my body did not seem to feel the same. It wanted her here, wanted to bury itself in her. All our grief and torment smashing together until it broke, washing everything away.

  “I need you to get it together.” Graham tapped something into his phone. “Rockstar and Kellogg’s are hinting at wanting you to do product endorsement. If you do a few interviews, it will increase your visibility.”

  I had known him years. His job was to get me sponsors and profile and to use whatever means necessary. This fact had never bothered me before.

  Until now.

  “You can take your interviews and shove them up your ass.” I flung out one arm, the other still wrapped around the whiskey bottle.

  Graham’s chest puffed up, his jaw grinding. “My job is to get you the best deal.”

  “And yourself a shitload of money.”

  “And you too,” he exclaimed. “I don’t understand what is going on with you. Have your goals suddenly changed? Don’t you still want to go to the Olympics and have money in your account to live the way you are used to?”

  I ran a hand through my hair.

  “That’s what I thought.” He walked closer to me. “I will do anything to get you where you need to be. Even if it’s going against yourself. And let me tell you, it has not been easy lately.”

  “What are you talking about?” I hadn’t fought Graham on anything lately.

  “Since you’ve met this girl, the media has lost interest.” He gripped his phone, pointing at the TV. “With you and Carrie split again, the press was getting tired of writing about the same thing. They wanted a new story. But you kept that girl too private. You know how they work; they want a hook, a sound bite. Either a salacious hookup or the adorable romance between the top snowboarders.”

  Romance between top snowboarders? Yeah, they missed that story nine years ago.

  “And the sob story of losing your brother will only go so far. I wish it wasn’t that way, but it is. It’s what sells.” He shook his head. “It was like finding a pot of gold when I discovered who Hannah really was.”

  Ice sawed down my spine. “What?”

  “I was curious about her after you kicked me out this morning, so I talked to Oscar about her. Funny, he didn’t respond to the name Hannah. And when I described her, he was the one who called her Brennley. I’ve been around long enough to know of Brennley Evans, the infamous snowboarder who disappeared.” Sorrow flashed in his expression. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you first. I needed to get it to the press without anyone knowing it was me. And, just as I planned, they went insane for it.” He peered down at his phone, then back to me. “I couldn’t believe when Kellogg’s contacted me an hour ago. Hard way to learn, but this is great news for you.”

  I couldn’t move, another bolt jarred my system, overloading it. Shock stood me in place.

  “Hey, I’m sorry, man. I can’t believe she did that to you. I mean, who does that? She dated your brother. She was there when he died. And yet she still slept with you and lied about who she was? She’s seriously fucked up. Sick shit.” He shook his head. “But you can’t deny, in the end, it was extremely beneficial for you. The press can’t get enough. Everyone is talking about you. Wanting you.”

  I may have not figured out who you were, but I’m so glad the truth is out there. Carrie’s voice came into my head.

  “Carrie. She was the one to get it to the press.” It wasn’t a question.

  “She loves you. She would do anything to protect you,” he said. “She knows you well and was the one who told me you were so enraptured with this girl that you wouldn’t believe us. You had to learn it this way.”

  “Loves me?” A guttural noise laced through my words. “You think that’s what love is?”

  Love was keeping a secret for nine years, carrying it all by yourself because you’d rather protect the ones you love than hurt their reputations. They hurt Hannah, betrayed her, and she still protected them.

  “I’m glad you found out before it was too late and got attached to the lying bitch.”

  The bottle dropped from my hand, brown liquid splashing over the cream carpet. All I saw was red.

  Rage barreled up like a bull. A roar echoed off the walls as I dived forward, crashing into Graham, tearing him off his feet. I heard him yelp before his bones crunched down on the floor, his phone sliding on the tile of the kitchen. I leaped on him, my fist hitting his face.

  Crack.

  Blood sprayed from his nose, flickering over my face. The sight of it stirred something in me, turning me feral. Everything I had experienced that night channeled down my arms. I hit him over and over. Blood from his mouth and nose smeared across his face and a gurgled cry emanated from his chest. After a while his body stopped fighting back, taking the punches with a pathetic whimper.

  I knew I should have stopped, but the frenzy wouldn’t let me go. Flashes of Hannah, of Jonah, my parents, and all the lives affected by lies flooded my mind.

  “Rhys!” A cry of terror came from behind me, the familiar voice snapping in my ear, waking me from my trance. “Stop!”

  I halted my fist that was in the air ready for another blow to Graham’s face. I snarled and dropped my arms, my chest heaving. Sitting back, I rose, twisting to the other fig
ure.

  Carrie.

  My face was coated with Graham’s blood, wrath sneering my features. Carrie jumped back with a gasp, a hand going to her mouth.

  “What are you doing here?” I took a step. True fear widened her eyes as she scrambled back.

  “I-I came to see you. To see if yo-you were all right. Needed company,” she stuttered timidly.

  “Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here. Carrie,” I seethed, speaking slowly, wiping the blood off my face with my arm. “Before I toss your ass out.”

  “He told you.” She gulped, holding her hand up, trying to soothe me. “I knew you would be mad, but you have to know I did it because I love you. She was the one lying to you. Using you.”

  “You did nothing for me…it was all for yourself. It has always been that way.”

  “No.” She shook her head, her wavy blonde hair swishing over her shoulders, her cheeks flushed pink. I couldn’t believe I once found her stunning. All I could see now was how many years I let her walk over me and use me for the fame. The image and hysteria we created for the media. “I love you so much. Do you know how much it hurt to see you fucking her on the balcony on New Year’s? Did you not think I would see you? It tore me in half. But I’m still here. We can work through it…”

  “No.”

  She and Graham weren’t fucking each other literally, but I realized now they had been playing me for years. Always in cahoots. He had always helped her find a way back to me. Both loving what the relationship offered them, not caring about me.

  Graham coughed behind me, a gurgled bloody groan, as he rolled onto his side.

  “I want both of you to get out.” I looked at her, then nodded to Graham. “And don’t come near me again.”

  “Rhys…” she whined, tears filling her eyes. I felt no sympathy. “I did it for you.”

  “Out,” I replied low, but rattling with rage.

  Her lips parted into a cry, her hand reaching out for me, tugging on my arm desperately. “But I lov—”

  “GET. OUT. NOW!” I roared, yanking away from her. She shrieked, jumping toward Graham. He weakly got up, draping his arm around her shoulder, and they both moved for the door.

  Graham’s head slightly turned, his lids swollen shut, blood caking his face. “You’re going to regret this. I was only looking out for you. Your career will die without me,” he slurred, his mouth full of blood.

  “Maybe. Or maybe I will be in charge of it for the first time in my life.” I clutched his collar, getting in his face. “And if I even get a whiff you are behind any more gossip, or think you are trying to take Hannah or me down, I will find you and finish what I started. I promise you.” I shoved him away so hard he and Carrie both stumbled. “Now get out.”

  With a last look over her shoulder, Carrie peered at me and frowned. Hurt and pain twirled in her eyes, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip.

  I watched her, my heart feeling close to granite, but I experienced nothing when two of my oldest “friends” stepped out of the door and out of my life.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Hannah

  Lights blazed down, which felt similar to a dozen heat lamps pointed right on me, peppering the back of my neck with perspiration. My gaze kept darting toward the four TV cameras aimed in my direction, not knowing which one to look into.

  “Don’t worry about them.” The woman sitting in the chair across from me swished her hand, not seeming to notice the dozens of people hovering around her, powdering her nose and styling her hair.

  Candice Anderson was a TV host for the ESPN channel. Tall, lean, with long shiny blonde hair and sharp, kind brown eyes, I found her intimidatingly beautiful. She had been around for a while and had established herself in a male-dominated forum. If I was going to do this, she was the one I felt the most comfortable with.

  “Relax and talk to me. Pretend no one else is here.” Candice leaned over in her designer chair, placing a manicured hand on mine.

  I nodded, swallowing back the lump in my throat. I was ready to tell my story, to let them know what I went through. It still felt as though I was pulling back my skin strip by painful strip, exposing myself and going against what my nature had been over the years.

  Candice had given me the questions beforehand. I was prepared. I would tell my story—about the years of therapy, both physical and mental, why I left, but the story of Jonah and Bryan would forever stay protected. No one needed to know their business. Neither was here to defend himself or say it was all right. I would guard them with everything I had for the rest of my life. They deserved more from me.

  Telling Rhys had lifted some of the burden I had been holding on to for so long. I felt freed enough to really see their side, their fear of what would have happened if they were discovered. Sadly, I realized everything would have been taken away. It was depressing our world was still like that, but they would have lost sponsors. Fans. Maybe respect. Not being looked at for their talent, but who they loved.

  That was what I carried with me. Their love. A lot of mistakes were made, but it was the one thing I had no doubt about. Though, as of right now, my parents were still struggling with this aspect. The night I returned from the graveyard, I sat down with my parents and told them what happened. The full truth. I felt in my heart Bryan would be all right with me telling them; he would have wanted me to. They were now going through the first four basic stages of grief: denial, anger, depression, and bargaining. I hoped someday we could hit the fifth one: acceptance. They seemed most upset at the idea they didn’t really know their son. And even though he was technically alive, I think they felt as if they were losing him all over again.

  Fingers clipped a microphone to my shirt and my stomach fluttered. Crap. This was really going to happen.

  “All right, Hannah…or do you prefer Brennley?” Candice sat up in her seat, the crew scattering away, the cameras rolling closer to us.

  “Hannah’s fine.” Brennley would always be part of me, that fearless girl who loved and snowboarded with fierce passion, but I was no longer her. Too much had happened, though I was not the Hannah who had left San Diego either. I was a mix of both.

  A man offstage called out, “And you are live in three, two…” and silently mimed “one.” Instantly Candice’s demeanor shifted.

  “Welcome. You are watching Candice Anderson, ESPN’s First Look. Today I have an exclusive interview with the young snowboarding legend Hannah Brennley Evans.” She turned to me. “Welcome, Hannah.”

  “Thank you.” Was it too late to run for it?

  “I am honored you have chosen First Look to talk to. So many people are curious about you. All the rumors… I am hoping we can clarify the actual truth.” Candice folded her hands in her lap, her crossed legs elongating the line of her pencil skirt. “Why now? What made you decide to come forward?”

  “I really didn’t have a choice.” I smiled finding it harder to let go of my words than I thought. I had stayed silent so long it became a defense mechanism to lock up tight. “But in reality, it was probably for the best. It was time…to stop hiding and start living again.”

  “Speaking of living, let’s start with the accident. What happened?” Candice’s voice was smooth, trying to lure me into feeling comfortable and open. The tactic would never work, but I dived into my story, giving her enough so she would never think to ask any more leading questions.

  During the next forty minutes, I answered question after question, telling her about life in San Diego, my grandmother, and finding my way back here. I talked about the accident, before and after, but I left out anything private.

  “My boys wouldn’t leave me.” I rubbed my temples, still finding the memory raw. “We used the Three Musketeers’ motto, ‘All for one, and one for all.’” Tears filled my eyes, and I quickly brushed them away. “Even if it got them killed, we were all in it together.”

  “Wow.” Candice placed her hand on her chest, patting her cream top, her expression filling with emotion. She grabbed a tissu
e next to her and dabbed her eye. “They were true heroes. You were so lucky to have them.”

  “I was… and am. I have visited my brother several times now and the nurses swear Bryan acts differently when I’m around. They say he’s much more active and vocal. He sleeps peacefully those nights.” A tear escaped and I cleared my throat. It was still hard to be around my brother, but I was always glad I went. The last time I was there, he seemed like a kid, his arms flailed, and a huge grin encompassed his face, as if I were his hero, not the other way around. I thought my heart was going to burst.

  “Okay, our time is coming to an end…but I can’t let you go without at least asking...” Candice paused, leaned back in her chair, a gleam in her eyes. My stomach filled with dread.

  “There are so many rumors…some pictures turning up of you two…and everyone is dying to know…are you and Rhys Axton, Jonah’s younger brother, an item?”

  I had said this topic was off limits, but I shouldn’t really be surprised she’d ask anyway. At the heart of it, she was a reporter. They wanted that sound bite, the gossip people loved.

  Hearing his name felt as though a barb sank into my lungs. I hadn’t heard from him since he walked away from me at the cemetery two weeks ago. I was no fool, I understood it was over between us, but I had still hoped he’d contact me, that we’d have some kind of closure.

  Who was I kidding? It wasn’t about closure. I wanted to see him again. It shocked me how much I missed him. Even the tiny things like his laugh, the mischievous glint in his eyes, his smile…or when his smile faded and hunger for me rose in its place. But I also missed his darkness, the sorrow because I recognized so much of myself. Where others wanted to move on, get away from the muck, we had made homes there. It was a place no one else could understand. I felt normal with him. Okay with the thoughts and feelings going on inside.

  But that couldn’t overcome what had happened. It was too much, and I could not be upset he wanted to be as far from me as possible. I was a constant reminder. A living nightmare haunting him.