Broken Boy

Copyright © 2023 by Hannah GrayAll rights reserved. Visit my website at www.authorhannahgray.comCover Designer: Amy Queau, Q DesignPhotographer: Michelle LancasterAlternative Cover Designer: Sarah Grim Sentz, Enchanting Romance DesignsEditor and Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. contents playlist prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 epilogue Other Books by Hannah Gray acknowledgments about the author playlist Listen to the music that inspired Broken Boy on Spotify. “Get to Gettin’ Gone” by Bailey Zimmerman “Thinkin’ Bout Me” by Morgan Wallen “Flowers” by Miley Cyrus “10:35” by Tiësto, featuring Tate McRae “Hate Me” by Ellie Goulding and Juice WRLD “Just Friends” by Ally Barron “If the World Was Ending” by JP Saxe, featuring Julia Michaels “Friends Don’t” by Maddie & Tae “tear myself apart” by Tate McRae “Hold Me Closer” by Elton John and Britney Spears “that way” by Tate McRae “Last Night” by Morgan Wallen prologue Link Age Eighteen Her lips are cracked and dry and her skin pale. Every word she forces herself to speak seems like it hurts her, cutting deep in her throat as she wheezes and coughs. Still, it’s the same each time I come home from college to see her. We are getting closer to the end every day, and I know it. We all know it. For the most part, I’ve avoided coming in here. Not because I don’t want to see my mom, but because I can’t bear to see her this way. She has always been so happy, so beautiful. Yet I’m watching her wither away to nothing. She’s declining rapidly. And there’s no hiding the fact that she’s in agony. “You’re going to be okay,” she says, barely whispering. “I promise.” I suck in a breath. Emotions aren’t something I’m good at showing. Not because I don’t have them, but because showing them makes me feel weak. And awkward. “I don’t know about that.” I feel my throat swell, and I swallow back the feeling of dread creeping up. “None of us will be.” She shakes her head slightly. “I don’t mean losing me, baby. I know that’ll hurt. I mean, your heart.” She reaches up, putting her hand on my chest. “I know it hurts, but I promise … it’ll all be okay.” Her eyes peer up at me. I can tell she’s so exhausted. “She loves you so much. She’ll come back to you.” I freeze, holding my breath. I haven’t told her that Three Weeks Later Taking a fistful of dirt, I sprinkle it into the rectangular hole in the ground. Small pieces of earth hit the casket, scattering over it every which way, with no rhyme or reason. What’s supposed to be symbolic in some way seems meaningless. I don’t want to drop a handful of dirt on this cherry-colored piece of wood. I don’t want to do anything right now. I just want to wake up and have this nightmare be over. I want to travel back to when life didn’t seem so hopeless. No, actually, I’d go back to all those months ago. When it didn’t seem like everything was so fucking doomed. My father sobs without trying to hide it. And my brothers stand beside me, looking down at where we know our mother lies, but not really seeing it. All of us knowing deep down inside that it might be her body, but that it stopped being our mother a week before, when she took her last breath. Numb. That’s what my brothers are. Just like me. Throughout the service today—hell, the past seven days—that’s all I’ve felt. Numb. Dead. Frozen. Dazed. I can feel the darkness creeping in, threatening to pull me into its depths, to a place so gloomy that I’ll never escape. Yeah, it’s trying. And I’m not doing a damn thing to stop it. Honestly, I don’t care if it takes me anymore. At least in the pits of hell, nothing can get worse. There’re only two people who could pull me away