Page 103 of Her Brother's Billionaire Best Friend

“How do you feel?” I asked her, and she said nothing.

“Fine,” she said. “What do you think is best?” The look of determination in her eyes was lovely, despite the circumstances. She pushed her black hair behind her ears as I craned my neck, surveying the landscape. Finding a landing place would be almost impossible, but there was no other option. We had to do it, and my house was too far.

“What about there?” I said, gesturing down at Riker’s Point. It was the place where we’d picked Kyle up when he hurt his leg.

Laura looked at it, and I could see her grow a little pale, remembering the last time she’d been there. “Okay,” she said.

I reached across the cabin and squeezed her hand. “It’s going to be fine,” I said. “He’s going to be fine.”

As Ronnie began to make his descent, I could see David watching in horror as the ground approached. I couldn’t help but see the funny side. David had never been good with heights. As kids, when we went climbing on the Falls he’d never been able to look down. “Don’t look,” I said.

He snapped his head up and fixed me with an exhausted, annoyed glare. I shrugged my shoulders. As the chopper settled down on the grass with a bump, we all breathed a sigh of relief before getting out.

Before we began to walk down the trail towards the old bridge, I stayed behind to speak to Ronnie. “Go back to the house and wait on standby,” I told him. “If the kid’s hurt, I’ll need him airlifted again.” I got out, bringing an umbrella with me. I opened it and offered it to Laura, but she didn’t acknowledge me as we walked.

The rain was pattering down, and the ground was already becoming soft. I was worried. The river had already swelled since the storm the other day, and this was going to make it worse. I didn’t think Kyle would be stupid enough to fall in, but still, it was on my mind as we made our way through the dark trees, following the roaring river somewhere in the distance to our right.

“Can I ask you something?” David said quietly.

I looked at him, and realized that it was maybe his last chance. That I’d never be able to look him in the face again now that he’d found me out. “Anything,” I said.

“You came back years ago. Before you knew Laura would be here, right?”

“That’s right?” I said.

“Why?” said David. “You could have gone anywhere in the world. Why’d you choose to come back to a crummy old town like this?”

“This place is my home,” I said. “I have more reason to hate it than either of you. But it’s the place I grew up.”

“Let’s not start that again,” said Laura.

“Well, it’s true,” I said. “You remember the way folks used to talk about me? About Conor O’Shea and his useless drunk of a dad?”

They said nothing.

“Maybe. Just wanted to prove I could be more than this crummy little town ever thought,” I said.

“And in all that time,” said David. “You never once thought of stopping by to see me? Of telling me your secret?”

“I didn’t think you’d be too pleased to see me,” I said.

“At first I thought it was good that you were gone,” said David, and my shoulder dropped. I’d always suspected as much—

“But after a while,” said David, “there was no news about you. And I got more and more worried.”

I said nothing, but carried on walking.

“I guess I thought you were dead,” said David.

“I guess I wished I was,” I told him. “I suppose that’s why I wanted to be someone else in the first place.”

“It was selfish,” said Laura. I didn’t know what to say to that. I suppose that I couldn’t really argue with her.

We’d left the trees behind now and the bridge had come into view. Visibility was poor, but as I stared at it, trying to tune out the booming of the Falls behind, I could see that a tiny figure standing under one of the lamps at the end of the bridge, looking out on the river.

The Old Bridge had been here since before the rest of the town. In the old mining days, it had been essential for transporting coal over the river. It was built of iron, and even though it had been rusted and weathered, its tall lampposts and ornate iron railings still gave it a grand old air.

“There he is,” I said, bending low and whispering.