Chapter 27
Fitz
Cold darkness closes around me as I extract myself from the fantasy world where I could fall in love without it being ripped away.
Deep in my core, I’ve always known love was not for me, but for the smallest instant, I’d let myself veer outside the lines of my tightly controlled world and thought about a future that isn’t centered around my brother.
Big mistake.
“I’m sorry, Duchess. I may need to take a rain check this evening with you.
Mind if I drive you back to your place while I deal with some stuff?
” I try to keep my tone light, but she puts a hand on my forearm before I can turn.
That small gesture, along with the warmth I feel from her touch, makes it impossible to walk away as quickly as I intended.
“Fitz…” She doesn’t say another word, doesn’t pry. Simply saying my name is enough to tear down the walls I’m trying to build against the tornado of feelings I have for her. I’m used to going it alone. I don’t know how to share my life with another person.
I nod. “I’m fine. I just need to go see my brother.” I feel choked with tension when I reveal this small detail. I can’t say more, and she nods, not letting go of my arm.
“Of course. What can I do? Do you want company, even for the drive?”
I should push her away. I don’t need anyone tagging along and seeing what Chad is capable of doing or saying at his worst. I want to protect her from seeing that side of my life. I want to protect myself from judgment.
“I’m good, Duchess.” I try again for lightness. But the dire, concerned look on her face tells me I’ve failed.
“You don’t seem good.”
I shake my head. “Trust me, you don’t want to see this part of my world.” I shouldn’t have ever told her about Chad because now she wants to be involved. I don’t have time to explain why she should run, not walk, as far away as possible.
So why can’t I tell her to go?
I shake my head. “No, really. I’m good. I have to be.”
“You don’t have to be anything. Except yourself. That’s all anyone can ask of you.”
Her voice is so soft and calm that it melts my resolve to push her away.
I can’t resist her sweetness when she reaches up and cups my cheek in her hand. Her eyes tell me I can trust her.
“He’s wasted. It’s…really, you don’t want to deal with this.” I give her one last chance to bail. I want her to take it, so I don’t have to push her away. I’ll feel better if it’s her choice.
“Sometimes we have to do hard things. I’m not scared of that.” She doesn’t flinch.
I should insist on driving her home. But I’m so tired of doing what I should do. I want her by my side. My brother is complicated, but maybe she can handle it. Maybe I can handle it.
“Do you want to come with me?” As soon as I ask, I regret it. No. It’ll be too much. “Never mind. No.”
She nods. “Let me help. Let me be there for you.”
It hurts to imagine her seeing Chad in whatever state he’s in. When it’s ugly, it’s really ugly. The last time I shared this part of my life, I unraveled and ended up hurting a person I cared about. I cannot do that to Tessa.
“It won’t be pretty.” How many different ways can I warn her and give her an out?
“I don’t need pretty. That’s not real life.”
She’s saying the right things, but the battle tears at my insides. I don’t want her to see this ugly part of my life because right now she thinks I’m better than this. I want to protect that.
But it is your life. It’s part of you.
It’s the weak side of me that wants to bring another person into this situation.
Sure, it would be nice to talk things through and maybe come up with a different goddamned scenario for how this turns out.
Because all I can see is Chad hitting rock bottom, passed out or worse, in a gutter somewhere, and blaming myself for not getting him help.
“Yeah. Sure.”
It’s more out of defeat than real desire to have her involved. The last thing I want is anyone bearing witness to whatever state Chad is in, least of all someone who is becoming more intertwined with my life by the day.
What if she decides I’m a bad bet to help her raise a kid after seeing the mess in my own family?
“Actually, no. Changed my mind. I’m good.” I hit her with a hard stare, hoping it will scare her into retreating. It would scare anyone else.
But she’s leaning toward me, not away. “Nope, too late. You invited me, and from the looks of things, you could use some moral support. I promise I won’t intrude, but let me be a part of your life. I’m here for you.”
The breath seeps from my lungs. I feel worn out, too exhausted to argue.
“Fine, come, don’t come. I don’t care.”
But I do care. I’m grateful she wants to be here.
She follows me to my truck, and I swing open the passenger door, hold out a hand to help her in, pull the seat belt over her belly, and slam the door.
Shaking my head, I walk around to the driver’s side, no idea why I feel the need to make things more complicated by including her in private family matters.
We drive in silence. As I let more air into my lungs, I feel my jaw unclench.
Thank God she has enough sense to know when I want to be alone with my thoughts.
Even though so many of my thoughts are of her, wondering what she’ll think of my brother when she meets him, wondering if it will be the last I’ll see of her after she does.
Oh well, better to know that now. Get it out of the way.
When we pull up outside Chad’s house, I notice Karen’s car in the driveway. He didn’t mention that.
She opens the front door when I knock and seems surprised to see me, then relieved. “Oh. He called you?”
“Yeah.”
Karen looks thinner, paler. Exhausted.
She nods. “Great. You deal with him. He picked up a night shift at a warehouse, and he’s in no state to go, but he insists.
I can’t do this again.” She looks regretful, leaving me with whatever mess I’ll have to clean up, but then she moves past me.
Tessa stands to the side. It’s not the right time for introductions or getting-to-know-yous.
Karen nods at her, hitches her purse higher onto her shoulder, and leaves.
I waste no time, heading to where I can hear Chad muttering in the bedroom.
“Go away.” He slurs out the words, standing with his head hanging down like a defeated animal. His work uniform hangs from his form, his shirt untucked and his belt unbuckled. “Unless you wanna help.” He gestures uselessly to his clothes.
“You can’t go to work like this,” I say. “Can someone else take the shift?”
“I dunno. Maybe.”
I nod, already unlocking his phone to find the contact in his calendar for the company he’s supposed to work for. The phone rings and eventually goes to a recorded message. “Shit.” I hang up. I’ll deal with that later.
Tessa observes silently as I go through my usual motions and clean up after my brother.
The trash brims with empty vodka bottles, and the sink is full of dishes.
Yesterday’s clothes are crumpled on the floor, and they stink like vomit.
I take them to the laundry and strip his bed, throw the linens in too.
I don’t want to look Tessa in the eye for fear she may be judging this whole sorry mess.
I wish I could say any of what I see in front of me is surprising. I wish I could say it was the first time Karen called me over here to run interference because she had to get to work and was sick of being the only adult in the room.
Not that it should be my problem, either. But she sees it that way. He’s my family, so I’m accountable for his genetics.
“I’m fine. Juss need some coffee,” he slurs.
I wonder how many days he’s done exactly this, felt his body jonesing for a drink, hit the bottle early, and somehow sobered up enough to get through a work shift. He’s good at fooling most people.
Not Karen. And not me.
It’s why I called in a favor and got him the security guard job where he doesn’t carry a firearm—just a walkie to radio the real cops if something goes south.
No driving required. Just a lot of standing around in a uniform at a place that hasn’t seen an attempted robbery in two decades.
It’s emasculating for a guy who graduated top of his class from the police academy, but until he’s sober, it’s the best job he’s likely to get around here.
And now, I’ve let Tessa into this mess. I can’t cope with the ramifications of that right now. Chad combs back his hair, and I help him with his pants and belt in front of the mirror, marveling at how he looks almost put together enough to pass for someone who isn’t drunk.
Walking him out of the bedroom, I direct him to the couch and go to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. I find half a pot already there, so I take three mugs from the cupboard, no idea what my plan is. Do I think we’re all going to sit and get to know each other over coffee and a cinnamon bun?
When I return to the living room, I find Tessa on the couch next to my brother. He has his hand on her belly, and they’re engaged in an animated conversation about…gophers.
“You have to flood the holes with water, wait for them to come up, and then give ’em a whack,” Chad says, like he has any idea what he’s talking about.
“Like Whac-A-Mole?”
He throws up his hands. “Moles, gophers…They’re pests.”
I roll my eyes and put the coffee cups on the table. “Don’t listen to him. He’s never whacked a gopher.”
“You dunno.” Chad has reached the sleepy phase of his bender, where his head slumps forward, and he starts blinking heavily. Coffee’s useless now.
Tessa makes eye contact with me, sympathetic. Chad is moving around, trying to get situated. I walk over and give Tessa a hand getting off the deep couch, and she lands against my side. I don’t step away. It feels good to have her close.
“Thanks,” she says. I wait for her to say more, pass some sort of judgment on the situation, but she doesn’t.
Chad manages to get his feet up on the couch and closes his eyes. I know he’ll be out for a couple of hours while I figure out what excuse to make at his job if I get in touch with someone. Feeling emotionally drained, I slowly walk Tessa out of the room.
“He’s…this whole situation…” I shake my head. I don’t know what to say about it, how to explain.
“Like you can’t ever win.”
Her words hit me like a wrecking ball. The simplicity of the statement. The fact that she gets it. The fact that she’s right.
I can’t win this battle until Chad gets some help. Until he’s willing. Until he hits rock bottom, wherever that is, with whoever he takes down with him. And I know I’m going to be there when he does, so it leaves me in knots of nervous anticipation all the time.
But I don’t explain any of that to Tessa.
I wrap my arms around her and hold on tight, afraid that if I let go, she’ll run as far away as she can from the mess that’s my life.
I need her to think I’m worthy of being a father to our child.
I silently promise us both that I’ll be the best possible father because she and our baby deserve nothing less.
And I can’t let myself be distracted by how much I want to kiss her. How much I love her.
It’s too much to inflict my mess of a life onto her. I can’t. I won’t.