Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
L uc stared at the six pack on the grocery store shelf. How easy it would be to grab it, down every single can and escape all his problems just like his father. But he knew better than that. Losing himself in alcohol would just create more problems. Still, he stood there, cart half full of his favorite comfort cereals, staring at the cans.
His phone rang in his pocket. Hope rising in his chest he pulled it out only to have his heart plummet again when he saw it wasn’t who he wanted to talk to. Stupid, why the hell would Charlie be calling him after what he did? She wouldn’t. Ridiculous of him to hope she’d still try. He pushed her away, just like he planned.
His phone kept ringing, the caller ID making him sink lower into his pit of depression with each chime.
Mom Calling
He sent the call to voicemail, gut churning with shame as he did. But he couldn’t talk to his mom right now. Couldn’t admit that once again he’d been unable to help his father. Couldn’t admit he was a failure as a therapist, son, boyfriend, as a person.
His gaze went back to the beer, wishing he could blame all his problems on it, but the truth of the matter was he was the problem. Whatever issues his dad was dealing with, Luc wasn’t enough to help him stop. He wasn’t good enough, no matter how hard he tried. He failed his father just like he failed Charlie.
She was right. He did have a savior complex. The need to be the one to fix everything was too great to overcome. If he wasn’t solving everyone’s problem…then what was he good for?
Abandoning his cart in the middle of the isle, he left the store. Luc wandered aimlessly down the sidewalk, avoiding the nasty glares aimed his way by the locals. He’d been getting them for days. Ever since Charlie tore out of the hospital with tears in her eyes. Seemed that even though the woman might not have the temperament to be considered Kismet’s sweetheart, she was beloved. As Apple told him when she chewed him out for being a “stupid idiot man and letting the best thing to ever happen to him get away.” He couldn’t disagree with the old woman. Charlie was the best thing that had ever happened to him. But dammit, he wasn’t the best thing for her.
He paused, looking up in shock to see where his feet had taken him.
Jacks
What the hell? Why was he at the one place in town he had no business being at? And why the hell was he going inside?
Unable to stop his body’s movements, he pushed his way into Jacks. A few heads turned his way, but no one threw anything at him, so he considered that a win. At just past four the place wasn’t busy yet. He still had no idea why he was here, but his heart started to race at the thought of catching a glimpse of Charlie.
A quick glance around revealed no dark-haired ball of fire, but he knew her office was in the back. He did, however, see a familiar face tending the bar. He made his way up to the bar where Kelley—hair now striped with purple among the dark black—gave him the stink eye.
“You want a drink, sir?”
Oh great, another person on the “we hate Luc” bandwagon. Not that he expected any less. The woman was Charlie’s employee and friend. Of course she’d been on her side.
“That depends.” He shifted to sit on the barstool in front of her. “Is there going to be spit in it?”
He didn’t want a damn drink. He wanted to talk to Charlie. But he knew he had no right to ask that.
Kelley raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “We’ll see, after you tell me why you made the toughest woman in Kismet cry.”
Shit! Making Charlie cry was the very last thing he’d wanted to do. He’d screwed everything up. He had no idea how to make it right either. He didn’t want to drag her down into the mess that was his current situation with his father. But he also felt like hell these past days without her. He had no idea what to do about anything.
Just as he was about to open his mouth to admit he had no clue why he was here, a large man with short, light sandy hair and achingly familiar sky-blue eyes stepped up behind the bartender. Ace Jackson. Charlie’s oldest brother.
Fuck.
He’d come here to talk, not fight. But he was a big brother himself. He knew the rules. Hurt a baby sister and you got hurt. Just the way it was. He didn’t blame Ace. He felt like shit enough as it was, maybe a good right hook to the face would ease his emotional pain.
“Kelley, can you go slice some more limes? We’re running low, and I want the bin to be stocked before happy hour rush.”
The woman chuckled, nodding to Ace and commenting as she walked toward the other end of the bar. “Don’t hit him too hard, Ace. You don’t want to add more time to your physical therapy.”
Luc sat still, bracing himself for a chew out or even threat of violence. When none came, he glanced at the silent man’s crossed arms. “How’s the shoulder?”
He’d caught glimpses of Ace around the hospital doing his PT. Not Luc’s department, but the guy seemed miserable every time he showed up. And not much happier after he left.
Ace shrugged, trying to hide a wince with the tightening of his jaw. “Fine. No matter what the damn doctor says. It’s just an injured ligament. His perky ‘you got this’ attitude is a nightmare.”
He’d just bet. For a man as stoic and calm as Ace, high-energy perk must be annoying.
Without asking, Ace placed a glass on the bar, pulling up the soda nozzle and filling the glass with ginger ale. The man pushed the glass toward Luc. He took it, not wanting to do anything more to upset the brother of the woman he’d apparently made cry. After taking a small sip, he realized if he wanted any information he would have to ask outright.
“So,” he cleared his throat, staring into his drink, watching the bubbles rise and pop at the surface of the liquid. “How’s Charlie?”
“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
He glanced up, staring the guy straight in the eye. Eyes that looked so much like Charlie’s it hurt.
“I’m pretty sure I’m the last person she wants to talk to.”
“There’s your first mistake.” Ace made a noise that some might consider a chuckle. “Thinking you know what a woman wants.”
He laughed, taking another sip of his drink. After another minute of silence, he shook his head. “I’m no good for her.”
“Agreed, but then again, no one is.”
As a big brother himself, he could understand that sentiment. “My life is…I’ve got issues I don’t want to drag her into. Family drama.”
Ace snorted. “Every family has drama. Ours included. And it’s usually Charlie’s doing.”
He laughed at that, surprised when Ace cracked half a smile. The man had big and scary down to a tee, but it was obvious he loved his family.
“Look,” Ace placed his hands on the bar, leaning in closer, speaking low. “No one comes without baggage. It’s part of the human condition. We all got shit we deal with, but it’s a lot easier if you have someone to share the burden. It’s not fair, but it helps. And if you’re lucky enough the people you share with will share with you. Then you can help them with their shit, and everything is square.”
Leaning back on the barstool, he gave Ace an incredulous look. “Is that what you do? Share with people?”
Because he highly doubted the big bad ex-marine in front of him got all Sally-shares-a-lot with his feelings.
Ace grimaced. “I’m getting…better at it. All I know is people only change when they want to. You can’t force it on anyone. It’s not a failure on you if you can’t save someone.” A haunted look clouded his face before he shook his head, glaring at Luc. “If you’re not willing to do…whatever the hell it is to be with my sister then leave her the hell alone or I’ll break your legs. Doc or no doc.”
“Not a doctor,” he muttered, but he got the message.
He knew the threat came out of brotherly love, but Luc believed him. What’s more, Ace’s advice struck his brain like an earworm, drowning out all other thought.
People only change when they want to. It’s not a failure on you if you can’t save someone.
A light clicked on inside. Rising from his chair, he started to pull out some cash for the ginger ale, but Ace waved a hand.
“On the house. You want to know where Charlie is now?”
He shook his head. “I’ve got something to do first, before I can properly apologize. Thanks for the drink and the advice.”
Ace nodded.
Luc rushed out of the bar. He had somewhere to be, somewhere important. Grateful he didn’t work today he hopped into his car and headed toward Denver. What Ace said about saving people kept rolling around in his brain. All his life he’d been wishing and begging for his father to change, but he never did. Luc knew it was stupid, but in the back of his mind he’d always felt some guilt, as if it was his fault his father didn’t get better. But there was nothing he could do to help his dad get sober if the old man didn’t want to. He couldn’t save his dad. The old man had to save himself.
What Luc could do was give up the burden of enabling his father. Because no matter how much he tried to deny it, he’d been a contributor to the man’s addiction for years. He never bought the alcohol, but he did other things. Bought groceries, paid rent, bailed him out. Other ways he unconsciously told his father his actions were okay. That Luc would look the other way. It had to stop. Now.
He loved his dad, and it killed him to think of the old guy on the streets because of his addiction, but maybe that’s what had to happen. Maybe his dad had to lose absolutely everything before he realized the people who loved him would not love him to death. Luc would love him to life. If his father accepted it. And in doing so Luc could reclaim his own life too.
He parked in front of his dad’s building, locking the car before entering the old, brick apartment complex. One sharp knock on his father’s door and it opened to reveal the man himself. Luc sucked in a breath as he stared at the man he’d once considered his hero. White thin hair stuck out on the sides of his head. Saggy wrinkled cheeks puffed up as a smile tilted his pale lips. The gray scruff of a two-day beard covered his face. His heart clenched staring at this man, a man he loved with his whole heart and some days hated too.
“Son! It’s good to see you.”
“We need to talk.”
Green eyes widened. “Oh no, no good news come after those four words.”
Ignoring his father’s attempt at humor, Luc pushed his way into the apartment. Once his father had shut the door, he faced his father, happy to see his dad was sober enough to hear what he had to say.
“Dad, I love you, you know that. But I can’t keep doing this. I talked with your lawyer and the judge is considering dropping the DUI if you go to a six-month in-house rehab program.”
His father scoffed. “I don’t need that stuff.”
“You do, dad. You’re an alcoholic. An addict.”
“It’s a disease,” his father insisted.
“Yes, and diseases can be treated. They can be cured. But not if you don’t get help for them. And I’m not talking about going to a meeting occasionally. You need real help, Dad. Help I can’t give you.”
Emotions welling up inside, he swallowed down the tears threatening to break free. Pain, anger, and grief all wrapped around him like a straitjacket, trying to strangle the very life from him. But he had to get this out. This was important. Maybe the most important thing he’d ever done.
“I love you. But I refuse to stand by and watch you slowly kill yourself. I’ll always be here for you, but until you agree to get the help you need, real help, I can’t be in your life anymore.”
He stared into the shocked face of his father, watching bloodshot eyes blinking back tears.
“Luc, I—I don’t think I can…you don’t understand what it’s like, son.”
He was tired of excuses, tired of lies and false promises, just fucking tired.
“I love you, Dad. Call me when you’re ready to get help.”
With that he turned and left his father’s apartment, hoping like hell it wouldn’t be the last time he saw him. Every step away ripped a hole in his heart, but it also lightened a weight from his shoulders. Fuck, this hurt like hell. He wanted nothing more than to run back in there, promise his father he’d always be there and provide him whatever he needed, but that wouldn’t help. It hadn’t helped. His father was as sick now as he had been when Luc was a kid. They needed to make a change. He needed to change, or his dad never would.
As he got back into his car, pulling away and headed back to Kismet, back home, he knew he needed to do one more thing before he spoke to Charlie. There was one more thing he had to make right before he went back on his knees and begged her for another chance. Because one thing he truly believed—had to believe for his father’s sake—was that everyone deserved another chance. Life wasn’t over ‘til you died and until then, you always had a chance to make things right.