Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
I chuckled. “We’ll fill the tank in a bit when you feel more human. In the meantime, what was that about? Taking off on your own and not talking to us?”
He was quiet for a moment. “This is a hard time for me. Yesterday was the anniversary of when Wes died. Next week is my dad’s. A year apart. It brings back a lot of memories. Bad ones.”
“And why are you trying to deal with them on your own?” Stefano asked.
Chase looked up. “My brother caused so many problems. My dad was an arrogant ass. That’s how everyone knows them. Remembers them.” His voice caught. “But I remember them before my mom died. When my dad played with us, carried us on his shoulder, read to us. When Wes was my hero. My big brother who protected me. Let me play with his favorite Matchbox car. Showed me how to tie my shoes. Everything changed when my mom died. My whole world exploded. All this town remembers is the bad that happened afterward. I have no one to share the good with. That’s what I mourn.”
“You can share with us,” I corrected him. “We’re your friends, so we would understand.”
“Wes hurt Charly. I was part of that. I can’t expect them to understand.”
Stefano barked a laugh. “Then you’re forgetting who Charly is. I know for a fact that she’ll be over here today, giving you shit about this, worried and upset. Smothering you in hugs and berating you at the same time. She forgave you. So did Maxx. We all did, Chase. But it seems to me, you haven’t forgiven yourself.”
Chase blinked at him, then looked at me. I nodded in agreement. “He’s right. You were involved, but you changed. You made up for your mistakes.”
Tears filled Chase’s eyes, and my heart went out to him. “Wes never had the chance. He was too bitter. He hated me when he died. My dad refused to see me. I lost my whole family.”
“Wes didn’t hate you. He was angry. I think he would have changed his mind had he lived. And your dad was stubborn but stupid. He loved you. He left you millions, kid. That was his way. It all sucks, but you can’t heap this guilt on your head every year,” Stefano said patiently.
“And you can’t deal with it by getting drunk and hiding from us,” I added. “We wanted you with us last night. You missed a thoroughly embarrassing dinner.”
A glimmer of a smile crossed his face. “Sorry I missed that.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck. “I went to a bar and got shit-faced. I sort of recall you showing up, Brett, but not much else.”
I sat back with a grin. “Does Occifer Cinnamon ring a bell?”
He frowned then suddenly stood. “Holy shit. I hit on a cop, didn’t I?”
I chuckled. “Sit down.”
He did, and I regaled him and Stefano with the story. Stefano laughed, Chase looked equally amused and horrified. He buried his face in his hands. “I’m never fucking living this down.” Then he lifted his head. “She was really fucking pretty, wasn’t she?”
“Yeah, she was. And you’re lucky. She could have hauled your ass to jail for even attempting to get in your vehicle.”
“Shit.”
“She just moved here, and she needs a tune-up on her car. I told her to bring it into the shop. I’ll make sure she gets looked after.” I paused. “You were certainly interested in tuning her up yourself last night.”
“Oh God,” he muttered. “It was the freckles. I have a thing for freckles.”
“Well, you’re gonna have a field day when you see her sober. She’s covered in them.”
“Shit,” he repeated.
I leaned forward, serious. “No more, Chase. No more guilt. No more hiding. You’re hurting? You tell us. If you’re not comfortable with us, then Charly. Gabby. Mary. All three of them. We all care.”
Stefano reached over and one-arm hugged Chase. “I know your family is gone, Chase, but we consider you part of ours now. And family takes care of one another, okay? I agree with Brett. No more hiding.”
Chase looked down, then nodded. “Got it,” he replied, his voice thick.
Hearing the sound of a car door, I looked out the window.
“Hurricane Charly has just arrived. Brace yourself.” I stood. “Maybe we should go get breakfast for everyone, Stefano.”
He joined me. “Good plan.”
We met Charly at the door. “He’s in the living room.”
“Is he okay?”
“Bad hangover and he’s struggling.”
“I’m going to hug him until he figures his shit out,” she muttered. “Then I have a thing or two to say.”
I waved my hand. “He’s all yours.”
Later that afternoon, I took a drive, enjoying the sunshine and quiet. Charly had been and gone. Chase was asleep, passed out in his bed, exhausted. I planned on dropping by my dad’s later, surprising him again, but for now, I was good to be on my own.