Chapter 6
CHASE
Blakely definitely could be a professional sweet talker, to the point that it’s alarming to witness the depths of her powers.
Not alarming enough to make me get involved, of course.
I’ve been busy soaking up every second of not being the person in control.
But it’s something that I’m keeping an eye on.
It’s like watching a reality show, specifically the trashy kind where someone reveals their ulterior motives to an empty room with a camera, and then you get to watch it play out, wondering if it’ll work.
Her ulterior motive? Keep them from putting Easton on a psych hold where we can’t protect him.
It is not a minor accomplishment by any stretch of the imagination.
But when the charge nurse comes stomping in the room with a stack of discharge paperwork that needs to be signed, I see the glimmer in her eyes that only appears when she’s won.
I don’t know how she’s not more exhausted. We’ve been camping out in this hellhole for almost five days, and I can’t say that anyone has made an executive decision except for Blakely. Even Easton has been deferring to her, like he sensed the pack order and just fell in line.
Having friends is so weird sometimes.
Landon comes and goes occasionally with supplies.
She’ll go out and sit with him for a little while in his car.
Then, no more than half an hour later, she comes back ready to go another round with the medical professionals and keep Brady and me in line while being so compassionate to Easton that it makes my chest ache.
Very odd. I’m a big fan, but I can definitely recognize that it’s strange.
While he’s signing away, she pulls me out into the hall, so like a good little duckling, I follow along until we’re in a more private area. “What’s up?” I ask.
She tucks her hair behind her ear. “The three of you should move in with me until we find this guy. I’ve got a really bad feeling and I can’t shake it.”
“What kind of bad feeling?”
After waiting until the coast is clear again, she says, “Like the kind that’s telling me he’s more dangerous than we thought and not to underestimate him.”
I sigh through my nose. “I’m not scared of this guy, Blake. He’s just a bully, picking on people smaller than him.” Out of nowhere, she smacks me on the chest. “Ow. What the fuck was that for?”
Her glare is lethal. “If you’re not scared of him, you’re stupid.
And you know who is scared, is Easton. If for no other reason, do it so he can sleep better in my gated and patrolled community and state-of-the-art security system.
I have the room for all of you fuckheads.
Don’t make this a thing, just come home with me. ”
There’s an edge to her voice that doesn’t come out often, she’s rarely scared of anything, but she really is this time. “Did you find something out that I don’t already know?”
She shakes her head, shifting her gaze out the window watching the rain race down the windowpane. “Nothing concrete. But I know when something is off. Please, Chase.”
“What about my family at my house?”
She shifts on her feet, uncomfortable. “I may have suggested they go home. The fewer people to keep an eye on, the better.”
What stands out to me the most is how I have hardly even opened my phone since I gave it to her that first time.
She’s clearly been managing things for me and Brady.
I haven’t even texted my mom, much less let anyone else know anything.
So she sent my family back to Illinois, and I had no fucking clue.
“Okay. Fine. We’ll do it. Tell Stretch Armstrong he’s hosting some refugees. ”
“Thank you.”
I wrap her in a hug, unable to express that it’s me who should be thanking her, so all I can do is hope she can feel my gratitude and infer all the things I don’t say when all I get out is a gruff “love you.”
Easton shoots us a small, reserved smile when we come back into his room.
Those damn dimples pop out. He’s changed into normal clothes: sweats and a hoodie.
Both of which I’ve never seen, so I’m assuming Landon bought them.
It’s amazing, the difference seeing him out of that paper gown makes.
The bruises are a bit lighter, but he’s still moving slowly, nursing various aches and pains.
Brady is watching him like a hawk, looking for the first sign that he is unsteady. Normally something I’d be doing. The desire to is there, but something holds me back—keeps me at a distance that I have no hope of dismantling in this place.
Blakely claps her hands together. “Good news, friends. You’re all three coming to stay with me for the time being. It’s going to be great!”
Easton looks the least shocked, making me wonder if he’s already considered it or she talked to him first. Brady only shrugs.
“Careful, everyone can’t jump up and down at once,” she mutters sardonically. “It will be fun.”
“It’ll be great. Just like the last time you stayed with us for an extended amount of time and almost bankrupt yourself on fudge ice cream cones,” I remind her, causing her to roll her eyes.
“Well, it’s not like that’s going to happen again. Not unless one of you decides to send me over the edge.” She looks pointedly between me and Brady. “Excluding you, of course, sweet pea,” she concedes to Easton.
He blushes, always so shy in the spotlight.
It’s most certainly not endearing. I knew from the jump that Easton and Blakely could be really good friends.
He’s exactly her type when it comes to companionship.
Snarky, but still sweet. Funny, but awkward.
And we all know how Blake feels about someone that needs people.
With all that being said, the circumstances of their friendship developing could have gone really fucking bad.
Her just being there after he woke up from a coma induced by an overdose was, admittedly, a recipe for disaster knowing Easton. Or any rational person, really.
But it’s not like that at all, and I, for one, am completely confused.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s great. She’s my friend, so no one could sing her praises like me, but I was expecting push back.
Embarrassment, maybe. I don’t know. Something other than these shared looks I keep catching, and the trust he’s giving her that I had to fight tooth and nail for.
Okay, that was toxic. I can admit that.
It’s good that he’s bonding with her, and I’m not even slightly jealous because that would be dumb. Easton is gay and Blakely is a woman.
Someone sedate me, please.
After Easton’s been discharged and our merry band of misfits has made stops at our place for clothes and takeout for lunch, we head over to Blake’s while I try not to gape at the amount of food she ordered, sitting in between me and Brady. “Are we preparing a family of bears for hibernation?”
She scoffs. “That ain’t shit. You should see how much the whole team can eat. I still have nightmares from handling the catering for one barbeque. Never again.”
“No, thanks. Remember that flirty redhead that hung around you senior year? Yeah, that one taught me I can’t afford to feed basketball players, and I haven’t forgotten.”
Blake coos and Brady chuckles. “Jeremiah. I miss him. Easily my favorite player to tutor.”
I snort. “He was a mouthy little shit. It’s no wonder he took to you.”
Easton raises an eyebrow at me in the rearview mirror. “Why do I feel like I know how this ends?”
Heat crawls up my neck, but the traitor next to me laughs. “That’s exactly how it ended, Eas.”
The teasing and seeing Easton acting more like himself makes me smile.
As hard as I try to squash the little kernel of hope it gives me, it persists.
I just want him to be okay. Maybe he can be again.
Maybe going to Blake’s is the right choice.
If it gives him a little peace of mind and ability to sort through whatever got him to the place that he felt like there was only one way out of. Worth it would be putting it mildly.
Landon is waiting for Blake outside, because why would we be normal about this. Ever. Not with these people. He comes around to open her door and swallow her tonsils, apparently. “Gross,” I announce to no one in particular.
Easton bails out of the car, and I’m not even a second behind him, abandoning Brady and running for my own life.
Put your mask on yourself then help others, or whatever.
He’s a smarter man than me because he remembered the food at least. “Dear god. Could they warn people before they do that shit?” Brady asks under his breath as we clamor into the house, attempting to save our innocence. Also, our appetites.
Easton giggles and it’s the most wonderful sound I’ve heard in weeks. “It’s kind of cute, in a run-for-your-lives kind of way.”
“Heavy on the last part,” I agree.
Brady marches straight to the kitchen and starts opening cabinets. “If they think I’m waiting on them, they’re going to be disappointed because I’m starving and it’s been forever since we’ve gotten anything from this place.”
I join the search, finding plates while he looks for utensils.
“Yeah, because you’ve been caught up doing other shit. Not worried about getting your dick wet.”
He laughs. “And yet, she still threw in free vegan brownies. You’re welcome.”
The door opens, bringing in Andre the Giant and Company, but I’m not done arguing. “Why is she so obsessed with you? Do you give off magic dick energy or something? And even the phrase vegan brownies should be a felony.”
“Eww. I do not need to hear about Brady having a magic dick,” Blakely adds. “And hard agree. Some things were never meant to be vegan or gluten free.”
I point my fork at her. “Didn’t you just get a tonsillectomy in the driveway? Are you in a position to be talking shit on anyone right now?”
She gapes at me, but her counterpart snickers. “Good point,” he says to his wife.
If something is said under her breath, I simply choose to ignore it and glare at Brady until he feels my eyes on him. “What? I like the sound of magic dick. If the shoe fits, you know.”
He’s giving me a migraine. I toss the mostly eaten food in the trash and make an excuse to leave without seeming ungrateful. Who knows which one I use, I’ve got a Rolodex of them stored away for times like this.
I’ve stayed at Blake’s enough times after having a few too many drinks that I have a preferred guest room already on my mind. My shoes barely make it off my feet before I crawl under the blankets to keep the frigid air conditioning at bay and pass out. Hopefully for a long, long time.