Page 52 of Nothing But Air

Liam finished them for him. “Another person you love fall.”

The statement hung in the air.

Teague didn’t confirm or deny it. Didn’t trust his voice.

Outside, someone laughed—the sound carrying clear and bright across the compound.

Love.

Was that what this was? This constant awareness of where she was, what she was doing? This need to make sure she was safe? This ache in his chest every time she looked at him with those blue eyes that saw too much?

“Are you afraid Eden will get hurt?” Liam’s voice was quiet now. “Or are you afraid of how much it will destroy you if she does?”

The question cut to the bone.

“Both.” The word scraped his throat raw. “I’m afraid of both.”

“Trust me, I get it.” Liam’s grip on his shoulder tightened. “When I nearly lost Nimue in June—” A long pause, and when he spoke again, his voice was tight. “I nearly came undone. But my brothers reminded me that if the worst happened, I wasn’t alone to face it.”

“Yeah, well.” Teague’s voice came out hollow. “I don’t have a brother anymore.”

“You didn’t let him die. He had an accident.” Liam’s voice was firm now. “And you may not have a biological brother, but you have me. You have Noah. And you have God—if you want Him.”

“Do I?”

Teague closed his eyes.

God.

He’d tried to cling to his faith though it all. To trust that there was a plan bigger than his fear. But every day was a battle. A struggle to believe that God was bigger than all that he faced.

Liam walked over to the small mirror mounted above the dresser, where Teague had taped a piece of paper to the glass the first day—edges soft from handling, ink faded. He tapped it. But Teague didn’t need him to read it.

From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. Psalm 61:2.

His mom had written it out for him when he’d first gotten into rock climbing. And even after everything—after Chip, after the guilt, after the years of running from grief straight into danger—he’d clung to those words.

Because if he hadn’t clung to the fact that there was something higher than him, he would have never made it through.

“It’s just…” He exhaled slowly. “It’s so much easier to do life alone. Less risk.”

“Less joy too.”

The simple truth of it hit him square in the chest.

Because Liam was right. These past few months with Eden—even with the frustration and the fear—had made him more alive than he’d been in a long time. Had made him remember what it was like to look forward to tomorrow instead of just surviving today.

“Come on.” Liam grabbed his hoodie and moved toward the door. “You’re going to dinner whether you like it or not.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Too bad. You need to eat, and you need to stop hiding in here.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“You’re absolutely hiding.” Liam opened the door, and cooler evening air rushed in. “You’re going to march into that dining hall, get some food, and remind yourself why you’re doing this.”

Teague followed reluctantly, pulling on his jacket as they stepped outside.