Free

Chapter 16

SIXTEEN

Nick

Garrett offers the friendliest grin to Charlie as she passes by, but the second she’s out of earshot, his eyes lock onto me like a heat-seeking missile. I know what this is. The protective older brother routine. Time to figure out what my intentions are with his little sister. The set of his jaw says he’s not sure whether to shake my hand or deck me.

The evening breeze filters into the truck as I roll down the window, the salty tang of the ocean sharp in the air. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

Garrett shoves his hands into his pockets, his fingers tapping a staccato rhythm against his thigh. He doesn’t say anything at first, just stares like he’s trying to figure me out. It’s unnerving.

“Thanks for bringing Charlie home,” he finally says, his voice steady but laced with something unreadable.

“Like I told her, it was my pleasure.” I lean back in my seat, waiting for him to get to the point. But instead of laying it out, he just stands there, his brow furrowed, jaw tight.

Garrett’s not a man of many words, but when he does speak, he’s direct. This silent, intense stare-down is new, and frankly, I’d rather he just spit it out.

“Look,” I say, swiping a hand over my mouth. “If this is the whole ‘what are your intentions with my sister’ talk, let me save you the trouble?—”

“It’s not that,” he interrupts, though there’s a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. “I mean, maybe a little.” His voice softens. “Look, Nick. If you break Charlie’s heart again, after what she went through with you the first time and then Davis, man, I can’t watch her go through it again. But this isn’t just about her.” He pauses, his gaze steady. “I know you’ve had it hard. I know. I’ve been here through it all. I watched it firsthand. The two of you matter a lot to me, and I don’t wanna see this go sideways.”

That stops me cold. I was ready for anger, maybe even a veiled threat. But this? Garrett, concerned about me? That’s not part of the script.

“Are you trying to say you’re worried about me?”

Garrett arches a brow. “We’re all worried about you, Nick. All the time. That goes without saying.”

I drop my gaze, scratching the corner of my lip. “I’m fine.”

I force a smile but it’s hollow, because how many times do I have to say it before people start believing me? I’ve got my head on straight, my feet dug in, and I’m moving forward, day after day. I go to therapy. I show up for work. I make it to every bonfire, every BBQ, every damn event they throw, whether I have the energy for it or not. I smile. I laugh at their jokes. None of it is natural. Every second is an effort. Every smile, a mask.

What more could they want from me? It takes everything I have just to be here and there are still days I wish I’d died instead of Mark Harper or that I could close my eyes and just not wake up. I won’t take my own life. But fuck… If people knew how hard I was working to hold it together, they’d throw me a parade every damn day.

I clear my throat and force a smile, hoping it’ll pass as genuine. “I know Charlie’s going through a lot. I get that. And I know I’m not the man to… I’m not the man she needs right now. I’m just trying to be there for her. She needed a ride, so I gave her one. It’s nothing more than that.”

Garrett’s eyes narrow, but some of the tension in his shoulders eases. “Just be careful, Nick. Go slowly. Go smartly. I won’t stand around and watch either of you get hurt again. And if you’re coming back into Charlie’s life, earn her. Be the best of yourself for her. But also…” He runs a hand through his hair, looking suddenly younger, more vulnerable. “Be the best of yourself for you.”

His words hit harder than they should. There’s a lump rising in my throat and I swallow it down, the sting of tears threatening at the edges. This isn’t the speech I was expecting.

“I don’t really know what you want me to say, Garrett, other than I hear ya. Charlie is special. And the last thing she needs is someone else getting into her head or taking advantage of her, or?—”

“If that’s all you took away from what I just said,” Garrett interrupts quietly, “then you didn’t really hear me.”

The lump in my throat tightens, and I can’t quite bring myself to meet his eyes. “No, man. I heard you. And, uh, thank you.”

Garrett steps back, nodding once as I lift my hand and back out of the driveway. But his words echo in my head the whole way home.

Be the best of yourself for her.

Be the best of yourself for you.

What the hell does that even mean? Does he think I’m somehow holding back? That I’ve got anything left to give? He has no idea. How could he? His life is perfect. He’s got Angela, his baby girl, a business that’s thriving. He doesn’t know what it’s like to wake up every day feeling like you don’t even know why you should get out of bed. Like every breath is a goddamn battle.

Be the best of yourself.

Man, fuck him.

The best of me died in the desert.

The house is dark when I pull into the driveway, the silhouette of it looming against the moonlit sky. The porch railing is smooth under my palm as I climb the steps, and the familiar scrabble of claws on tile greets me from inside. Sunshine’s bark is deep, loud—probably terrifying to anyone who doesn’t know her—but when I open the door, she’s all wagging tail and happy wiggles.

“Hey, girl.” I crouch down, running a hand over her soft fur. “Miss me?”

She licks my face in response, her tail thumping against the floor. I press my forehead against hers, inhaling the warm, familiar scent of her. She’s my anchor, the one constant in a world that feels like it’s spinning out of control.

“You’re a good girl,” I murmur, scratching behind her ears. “The best girl.”

After filling her water bowl and checking her food, I grab her leash from the hook by the door. Sunshine perks up immediately, her ears flicking forward.

“Feel like a walk?”

She sits patiently as I clip the leash to her collar, her tail wagging in anticipation.

The night air is cool against my face as we step onto the beach, the sand soft and shifting beneath my boots. Sunshine trots beside me, her leash slack, her nose twitching at the breeze. The ocean is calm tonight, the waves lapping gently against the shore, and for a moment, I let myself pretend that everything is okay. That I’m not broken. That I don’t spend half my life wondering why I made it home when others didn’t.

“Be the best of yourself,” I mutter, glancing down at Sunshine. “Can you believe he said that?”

She tilts her head like she’s listening, and I can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, me neither.”

But the thing is, maybe Garrett’s right. Maybe I do need to do something—anything—to shake myself out of this funk. Uncle Lucas has been pushing me to take a class or join a group or, God help me, try yoga like Doc Eddington suggested.

Maybe it’s time I actually listened to the people who know what they’re talking about.

“Whaddaya think, girl?” I ask, scratching behind Sunshine’s ears. “Should I give it a shot?”

Her only response is a happy bark, her tail wagging as she looks up at me.

I exhale, long and slow, as we turn back toward the house. It’s not much, but it’s something. And maybe, for now, that’s enough.