Chapter 27 Brighton
Cosy’s brother offers to take the girls home at the end of the night, and as much as I don’t want him to, I nod.
I didn’t come as Rhea’s date; I came as her friend, and I think I was successful in making sure that she had fun.
My job for the night was over. I pull off the tie and toss it into the front seat of the truck with my jacket as Boone brings out a tray of leftover food and a couple of beers.
I pop the tailgate for him, and he sets it all down before taking a step back, letting the silence settle for a moment.
“I don’t know why you cater this thing,” I say to him, popping the beer and handing it to him.
He hates this gig more than anyone, forced to wear a tight black chef's coat that covers his tattoos and buttons uncomfortably at his throat. His hair is brushed back off his face, and he looks like a functioning piece of society. He looks like me. “We don’t need the money.”
“Mm,” Boone swallows a long pull of beer and scowls. We both know why he actually does, it’s to keep an eye on Kaia. “He got drunk tonight and was flirting with girls at the bar all night—in front of me.”
Boone lets go with a defeated laugh and downs the rest of the beer. “One of these days it’ll be me catching him doing something stupid instead of her, and I’ll kill him, Bri.”
“I should probably buy a shovel.” I shrug, and the next laugh that leaves Boone is lighter and more genuine to his easy-going nature. “You alright?” I ask him.
“I will be, eventually.” Boone nods, his hair falling around his face from its brushed-back, professional-looking form. “I can see it in her; his days are numbered.”
“You’ve been saying that for six years, Boone.” I take a swig of my own beer as he pops what looks like a crab cracker into his mouth.
“I know my girl,” he says, and I believe him. “She’s fed up.”
That’s a scary thought, Kaia Keegan at the end of her rope.
“Reaper looked like she was having fun,” Boone notes after a long beat of welcome silence. “Can’t believe you put that on for her.” He points to the dress shirt.
“I did it because Day wouldn’t leave it alone,” I scoff.
“That’s such a load of crap,” Boone laughs, poking me in the chest with his finger. “You came because you have a crush on Reaper.”
“Nope,” I shake my head. “Friends. I came here as her friend.”
“Rhea Drake has plenty of fucking friends, Bri, none of them spin her around on the dancefloor until she’s dizzy and weak in the knees.” Boone pushes with a wicked grin, and I hate the way the memory warms the base of my chest.
“She drank half a bottle of gin tonight. The dizziness wasn’t me,” I argue.
“Nah, Bri. You’re rewiring something in that girl's brain whether you mean to or not,” Boone says. Too observant for his own good. “Just don’t do it if you don’t mean it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I scowl. I’m not doing anything.
“It means make sure you know what the word friend means before you cross any lines.” Boone smiles at me, and I want to argue, but I hear him, and I nod. “You should listen to me. I know a thing or two about being a friend…”
“Hah,” I bark, “you poor, sad son of bitch.”
“She looked like a fucking angel tonight.”
“Kaia Keegan has never been an angel,” I argue, and Boone gives in to the statement without a fight.
“You know I couldn’t imagine doing that to Day,” he says after a few more snacks, and sets his beer down to clean off his fingers.
“Just not showing up. Especially for something like this? If she won that award tonight, I’d drag Dad down here at gunpoint just to make him witness the incredible person she grew up to be. ”
I draw in a short, painful breath of cold air between my teeth.
“We can just stop at gunpoint and leave it there. He doesn’t really deserve the rest,” I say.
“Yeah, I guess he doesn’t…” Boone chews on the thought.
Our parents weren’t the greatest, even before we figured out what was going on with Sunday. Dad only got worse after that. Spewing garbage that she just needs to get her head right and believe that he’s not sick. Such bullshit.
“But I get what you're saying.” I lean against the tailgate. “I heard her talking to her Mom on the phone, and I couldn’t do that, to Day… to Daisy?” I huff. People really need to stop making her sad.
“Yeah, well, luckily, we all have you.” Boone nods, “and Day has never felt like that, ever, Bri. And it’s because you took care of us.”
“Like a bull in a china shop,” I laugh, and he smiles.
“Semantics,” he huffs, “it’s why we push so hard, you know. Because we know, we might not have always gotten it, but we know now. How much did you carry after Mom and Dad bailed?”
“You were just kids,” I say.
“We,” Boone corrects. “We were all just kids, but you stepped up, and it’s our turn to do that for you. With your hands, with Daisy.” He sighs, “But you have to let us. You can’t do it alone, even if you think you can.”
“I’m doing just fine, Boone.” I shut him down.
“You can say that shit to Sunday all you want, Bri, but I know you aren’t.
” Boone steps forward and pokes me in the chest above my heart.
“We’re pretty different a lot of the time, but we’re still connected, and I feel all that hurt radiating off of you, but you won’t just find a way to let it go. ” He pauses, “Isn’t it heavy?”
It’s unbearable.
“Don’t give me the twin link nonsense. I hate that crap.” I try to turn it in a direction that’s lighter and doesn’t feel like he’s backing me into a corner.
“Brighton.” He pushes, and I know I’m trapped.
“Yeah, it’s fucking heavy, Boone.” I snap. “But it’s mine.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” he argues in the most nonconfrontational way he can. “You can let it go, or at least try to talk about it.”
“I go to group,” I scowl.
“And never talk…” Boone raises an eyebrow. “And you’ve been missing because that Landon guy called me to see if you were still around.”
“Fucking…” I sigh. “I’m going. Landon’s a nosy asshole.”
“I want to trust that, but I don’t,” Boone says. “Because I know you, and the second you feel like you’re being forced to do something, you turn tail.”
“That’s not true.” I scoff.
“Riona.” Boone stares at me coldly. “She pleaded for you to go to therapy, man. Publicly, more than once, and I’ve never seen that woman beg.”
“Don’t,” I warn him. I wasn’t having this conversation with him.
“Ri would have laid down on a sword for you, Bri…” He trails off because we both know it’s true.
Riona was always too good for my ass, and it became blindly apparent when I returned home.
“But you made her question her intelligence, her strength. All because you won’t talk to anyone, you don’t even have to talk to us. ”
“I’m sick of this back and forth,” I groan.
“Yeah, well, so are we.” Boone shrugs. “But I’m not going to stop because I’ve seen you at your lowest and I refuse to see it again.” He sounds so unbelievably sick of me.
“Yeah.”
“Did you book that therapy appointment?”
“No,” I answer honestly, because I won’t be doing that. No matter how hard they push me. No matter how much guilt eats at me, it’s not going to change a damn thing.
“Stubborn dickhead.” Boone scoffs.