CHAPTER 56 Tanner Banks
What the Fuck Was I Holding Onto
Strange how you can hold a grudge against someone, but the moment they’re gone…so is the grudge.
What the fuck was I holding onto? I missed my window, and I haven’t had enough time to process how to feel about that yet.
I need to call Miller. Grayson is making calls now, and Missy, too. Grayson’s wife, Ava, is in and out of here as she brings her husband and mother-in-law what they need.
Family is pulling together in this tragic moment, and I find myself a part of it. The moment. The family. All of it.
I wait until I know Miller will be home before I head out back to my rental car and slip into the driver’s seat for a moment. I stare at my phone as I try to make sense of any of it, and eventually I realize I can’t.
I dial my brother, and he answers right away.
“Saw the TMZ report about you at the club last night. Score any pussy?” he answers, his voice full of merriment.
“I, uh…I’m calling with some news. ”
He clears his throat. “What’s going on?” His voice loses the merriment as a bit of fear steps in, something only I would be able to detect because I know him so well.
“Eddie Nash is dead.”
He’s silent for a beat before he mutters, “Jesus Christ. What happened?”
“Assault.”
“Give it to me straight, bro.”
I clear my throat. “He was stabbed.” It was sudden, and it was intentional—according to the secondhand account I got from Asher, anyway.
I don’t know all the details. All I know is that Asher found out first. Asher called Lincoln first, Grayson second, and presumably Spencer third.
“Stabbed? What the fuck?” he asks.
“That was my first thought, too.” I tell him what I know. “I guess he’d gotten tied up with some local bookies. He had his kids bail him out in the past, but he wasn’t quick enough this time.”
“Jesus,” he curses again.
“I just found out about an hour ago, so I don’t know about plans or anything yet. I’ll keep you updated.”
“We play Thursday night this week,” he reminds me.
“I know. Missy is working out the details, and I know she’s working to make sure all six of us can be there. It’s a short flight from San Diego, so Thursday morning might work out so you can be back by game time.”
“How is Missy?” he asks.
“Wiser than me. We had a good chat, but we were interrupted with…well, this.”
“Makes you think, doesn’t it?” he muses.
“I can’t seem to grab onto exactly what I think. You? ”
“I don’t know,” he mutters. “How life is short. We’re not guaranteed anything. All the tired clichés.”
“Yeah,” I murmur back. He’s right, though. If I hadn’t spent so much time in my anger, maybe I could’ve had the chance to get to know the man who was biologically my father. Asher said there was some good in him deep down, and now I have to live with the regret that I never got to see it because I never gave him the chance.
Maybe forming a relationship with him would’ve just messed me up even more. But now I’ll never know the answer to that.
“You want me to call Mom to tell her?” he asks.
“Let’s do it together,” I suggest.
“I think that’s a good idea.”
I blow out a breath as I connect her to our call. “Tanner?” she answers.
“Miller too,” my brother chimes in.
“What’s going on, boys?” She sounds guarded, and she has every right to since this isn’t a typical call. I don’t know if we’ve ever three-way called her before. Usually we’re just in the same room and grab the phone out of the other’s hand.
“I have some news,” I begin quietly. She’s silent as she braces for it. “Eddie Nash passed away late last night.”
“Oh,” she squeaks. “What happened?”
“He, uh…he was assaulted,” I say. I’m not sure why I censor it.
“Oh, how awful,” she breathes.
A beat of silence fills the line as we all sit with that.
“I don’t know anything about arrangements yet, but I’ll let you know,” I finally say.
“I’d like to be there,” she says. “So, yes…if you could keep me in the loop, I’d appreciate it.”
“Mom?” Miller says.
“Yeah, honey? ”
“I just wanted to say…” He pauses as he gathers his thoughts. “I know it’s been a strange year, but I would love to put all this behind us. Tanner and I, we didn’t give him a chance, and I would hate to turn around and feel like I didn’t get to say the things I needed to say to anyone else, you know what I mean?”
“I know exactly what you mean,” she says quietly.
“Same for me,” I grunt. “I’m sorry, Mom. And I want you to know that I understand why you did what you did.”
“You do?” she asks, surprise evident in her tone.
“It was Missy Nash who made me see it,” I admit.
“I just want peace in our family again,” Miller says.
I nod even though they can’t see me. “So do I.”
“Then that’s what we’ll have. I love you boys,” she says.
“Love you, Mom,” the two of us say at the same time.
“Tell Dad we love him, too,” I say, and a lump seems to clog the back of my throat after the words are out.
“I will,” she says, and I hear the emotion in her voice, too.
Missy makes things happen, and when I head back inside, I learn she has planned a small, private service for Thursday morning.
I head to my hotel after I help with the arrangements and make sure my half-brothers all have what they need, and I sit at the bar with a glass of tequila for a while as I contemplate my next move.
I could go home until then, but I’m not sure I want to. My brothers here in Vegas all have someone to lean on—significant others as they deal with their loss. And their loss is much wider and deeper than mine. It’s their father—the man who raised them.
That’s not what he’d ever be to me because that’s not what he chose for us .
I’ve lost out on the chance to get to know someone I’d easily written off, and I think the what-ifs are fueling my grief. To be honest, I don’t know if I can grieve someone I never knew.
I think about calling Cassie. I think about Asher’s words to fight.
I think about a lot of things, and ultimately, I drink until I don’t want to drink anymore, and then I head up to bed.
Things aren’t any different come morning. I’m still indecisive about what I want to do. I want to talk to Cassie. I want to hear her voice as I go through this strange gamut of emotions. But I don’t want to call her with news like this. I want to call her to tell her I want her back, that I don’t know how to do this life without her…
But she regrets me. She regrets introducing me to her kids. She regrets losing her job because of me. And I don’t know how to put a bandage over that to heal it. I don’t know that calling her with a personal need outweighs her needs.
I’m not sure I’ve ever put someone else’s needs before my own.
When I call her, I want it to be because I figured out how to reconcile with her. I don’t want it to be because of the pulsing desire to talk this out with someone outside of the equation.
But as soon as this all blows over, as soon as I get back to San Diego, I’ll start fighting to win her back.