Chapter 17 #2
“Oh, that’s right. I knew you were going with her, but I didn’t realize that’s where you were now. When are you coming home?”
“We return to LA in a few days,” I said, trying to buy myself a little extra time. I had two days left with Bryn in paradise, and I resented anything that intruded on my time with her.
I half hoped my comment would deter Mom from initiating a discussion about anything serious. I guessed that was too much to wish for because she said, “I’m sorry to interrupt your vacation, but I’m at a loss for what to do about Jules.” She sniffled. “Oh, Frasier. He’s a mess.”
What’s new? I sighed, hoping it wasn’t too audible over the phone.
Unfortunately, he’d been a mess for a few years now.
It was heartbreaking to watch him go through this and feel unable to get through to him.
I loved my brother, but I felt helpless when it came to him.
It pained me that I no longer had a relationship with him, just as it hurt that my parents didn’t understand my need to set boundaries when it came to Jules.
I didn’t ask about the specifics. I didn’t need to. Because this was what had happened time and time again. And I hated it—for my brother, my parents, me. Our whole family.
I wanted off this toxic merry-go-round, and I thought I’d made that pretty damn clear.
“I hate to ask this,” Mom said, and I realized I’d missed whatever she’d been saying before that. “But…”
I knew exactly where this was headed. My brother owed money to his dealer. His car was broken down—again. He’d gotten arrested. It was always something, and it was never his fault.
Sometimes, it really wasn’t. And I didn’t want my brother to struggle, but I also knew that I couldn’t continue to enable him. It wasn’t good for him, for me, or for anyone.
“I love Jules, and I absolutely want to help him. But I’m not giving him any more money.” I was sick of him treating me like an ATM. I’d learned that lesson real quick.
“I just…” She sniffled again, and my heart broke a little. “Can you please just try talking to him? You’ve always been the cool older brother. Jules only listens to you.”
“Jules doesn’t listen to anyone.” I wasn’t trying to be callous, though my delivery probably wasn’t the best. “He hasn’t for a long time.”
Not since his accident.
He’d been an Olympic-level snowboarder, at least until a career-ending injury.
At first, he’d tried to ignore the doctor’s recommendations.
He’d convinced himself that he could return to competition just as he had every other time.
He knew what it was like to train—to perform—through pain. We both did.
It was only after being airlifted off the half-pipe the last time that he’d realized it was over. And from that point, it had all been downhill. He’d gone from pushing his limits on the snow to pushing everyone away. If self-destruction were an Olympic sport, he’d have a gold medal.
I could understand why he’d had to try, even if I’d been concerned for him. If I’d been in his shoes, I probably would’ve done the same thing. But ever since then, he’d struggled with the injury, the pain. And he used painkillers to cope.
I’d tried to help him, I had. I’d given him more money than I cared to account for, time, emotional resources. And none of it had made a damn difference.
I could empathize with everything he’d endured. The idea of not being able to participate in the sport I loved was unthinkable. Hockey had always been an escape. And after losing Derek, it had helped me cope. Survive.
“If you won’t talk to him, will you at least…”
“Mom,” I said with as much strength and compassion as I could muster. “I’ve told you and Dad.” Hell, even Jules when we’d still been talking. “If he wants to go to rehab, I would be happy to pay for it. Otherwise, there’s nothing more to discuss.”
“So, that’s it?” Anger vibrated through her tone, and I hated that my brother’s actions were putting a strain on my relationship with my parents. “You’re just going to write your brother off?”
“No,” I gritted out. It was heartbreaking not talking to my brother, but the alternative wasn’t good for anyone.
And I was sick of my parents pressuring me to help.
“I always hope that he will find a better path. But we’ve tried and we’ve tried, and if he isn’t willing to admit he needs help, then I’m not going to continue to enable him. ”
The line was silent for a moment, and when I glanced at the screen, I could see that the call was still connected. I guess neither of us had anything more to say. At least, I didn’t. I hadn’t wanted to go there, but she’d pushed me too far.
“I’m sorry, Frasier,” Mom said, and the defeated tone of her voice broke me. “I’m…sorry.”
I didn’t want her to be sorry. I wanted my brother to stop hurting everyone and take responsibility for his actions.
“I don’t want to continue enabling him either,” she admitted. “But I’m at a loss for what to do. Your brother owes someone twenty thousand dollars, and I’m scared of what will happen if he doesn’t pay.”
My stomach churned. I knew that when she said “someone,” she was referring to Jules’s dealer. I also knew this wasn’t the first time this had happened.
My parents had paid off Jules’s debt before, and when I’d found out, I’d been furious. Jules had promised it would never happen again, and yet here we were.
“Please, Frasier.” Mom was sobbing now, and my chest felt as if it were being cleaved in two. “I wouldn’t ask if we had any other options, but there have been threats…”
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. What was I supposed to say to that? This was a no-win situation. If I helped, my brother might be safe. But for how long? How long would it be until he fucked up again? Until he—or my parents—expected me to bail him out again?
I wasn’t trying to be insensitive. I cared about my brother, even if I was deeply disappointed and saddened by his actions. But if I helped, Jules’s dealer would keep running up his credit. Taking advantage of my brother’s addiction and demanding higher and higher sums of money.
And if I didn’t help…
I shuddered, imagining the potential consequences not just to my brother but to my parents. But I wasn’t sure that paying the money would solve anything. In fact, I had a feeling it would only make matters worse.
“You need to go to the police,” I said.
“We can’t. They told Jules if he went to the police…” She stopped talking, and I knew she was too upset, too rattled, to continue.
Fuck.
I sighed, knowing this issue wasn’t going to be solved easily. And even though I was pissed, I felt obligated to help. I wasn’t going to pay the debt, but there had to be another solution. One that didn’t end in violence against my family.
There was a knock at the door, and I stood to answer it. “Mom, I have to go. Let me make a few calls,” I said, tipping the hotel employee before carrying my food inside. “I’ll get back to you.”
“Okay.” She exhaled, and it felt as if she’d dropped all the weight that had been on her shoulders onto mine. “Thank you, Frasier.”
I said a terse goodbye and then hung my head. I removed the dome from my breakfast tray. It looked phenomenal, but I’d lost my appetite. I pushed the food away and stood, pacing as I thought through my options. Who to call.
Derek was one of the few people who had known about the situation with my brother, and I obviously couldn’t talk to him.
Bryn knew some of it, but I wasn’t going to burden her with this information, especially not on her sister’s wedding day.
I didn’t need to talk; I needed help. But I wasn’t sure who could even assist me.
I scrolled through my contacts, landing on my agent, Talia. This type of thing wasn’t in her usual purview, but I wanted to keep it as quiet as possible. And I trusted Talia to be discreet.
She’d signed an ironclad NDA. She was invested in my success. Plus, Talia was well-connected, and she might have some ideas as to who could help.
It was still early in LA, but I had a feeling she’d be awake. I inhaled and hit the button to connect the call.
“Frasier,” she said, answering on the third ring. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Have you had a chance to look over that contract I sent you? Or were you calling because you need another personalized unreleased book?”
I chuckled, despite the depressing conversation with my mom and the reason for this call.
I knew Talia had been curious about that request, and I appreciated that she hadn’t asked me outright for more details.
Besides, I was feeling better now that I was taking action. “Always straight to business, huh?”
“Well, I assume that’s why you called me at seven o’clock on a Saturday morning.”
“Yeah…” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Sorry about that.”
She laughed. “It’s okay. I was already up, thanks to the twins. So tell me what’s going on?”
“I, uh—” I had no idea where to start, so I started at the beginning.
I told her about my brother and his career, his accident, and what had happened since.
She already knew some of it—mostly because when I’d come on as a client, she’d practically interrogated me to see if there was anything in my past or present that might be a liability when approaching potential brands.
I’d been honest, but things were so much worse now.
When I finished, she was quiet for a few moments. “I’m sorry that you and your family are going through this.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sorry to drag you into this, but I didn’t know who else to call.”
“No. It’s good that you did. This doesn’t seem like a job for a publicist,” she mused.
I didn’t have a full-time publicist. Most of the guys in the league didn’t, apart from the heavy hitters like Holden Hansley.
I worked with the Hawks’ PR staff for most of my interviews, unless it was a larger campaign directed by the league.
That said, I did not want to take this to the team or the league.
“Maybe a fixer. I know a good one, but I’m actually…” She clicked her teeth a few times then said, “I think this might be a job for Hudson Security.”
I furrowed my brow. “The residential security company?”
“You know of them?”
“Some of the guys on the team use them,” I said. “I’ve tried to talk Bryn into it.” Not surprisingly, she’d refused.
“Mm. Hudson handles a lot more than just residential security. They offer executive protection services, and I think their expertise might be just what you need.”
“You mean…like a bodyguard?” I asked, not sure that was the best fit for this scenario.
“Yes. They protect very high-profile clients, and I’m sure they’ve dealt with their fair share of blackmail and threats.”
She made a good point. “Okay. Thanks, Talia. I’ll give them a call.”
“Mom!” one of her kids called for her in the background. “I’m hungry.”
“I should get going before my kids tear the house apart.”
I chuckled. “Oh. One more question before I let you go.”
“What’s up?”
“If I were to have a relationship with Bryn—”
“Mm-hmm,” Talia hummed. She didn’t sound at all surprised, not that I blamed her. I’d asked for an unreleased book to be signed to Bryn. Talia had to suspect something was up.
I rolled my eyes. “How would that look from a PR perspective?”
I didn’t care what people thought of me, but I cared about how it might impact Bryn. I’d seen the toll the attention following Derek’s death had taken on her, and I despised the media for profiting off her tragedy.
“First of all, congratulations. I love that for you.” Talia paused, and I sensed hesitation. “It’s something that would need to be handled carefully. In the world’s eyes, she’s Derek’s widow.”
I gnashed my teeth. “And she is, but that undermines everything she is as a person.”
“I know that,” Talia sighed. “And you know that. But you have to think about how this would be perceived. She was married to your best friend. Your teammate. When Derek died, people felt that heartbreak along with her. They’ve become invested in her story.”
While I knew that Bryn was grateful for the support, she had been exhausted by the invasive questions, by people feeling like they knew her or were entitled to information about her or her relationship with Derek.
Bryn finally felt as if she’d gotten her privacy back.
Her life back. And here I was, threatening to upend it all again.
“She wouldn’t want the attention,” I said. “And neither would I.”
“I completely understand.” Talia’s tone was gentle, and I sensed I wouldn’t like what she had to say. But I’d asked her to give me her honest opinion, and she was. “But people are going to be interested.”
Talia wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know—or fear. But that was a bridge Bryn and I would have to cross at some point. At least, if we wanted to be together. And I wanted that more than anything. I only hoped the potential media attention wouldn’t deter Bryn from wanting to be with me.