Chapter 39
I push the flatbed trolley past the Happily Ever Booked shelves, ignoring the curious glances from women passing by with their baskets. No one’s stopped me yet, though the raised eyebrows are getting hard to miss.
Ho Ho Hockeymas is just around the corner. The guys and I are on a last-minute Christmas shopping run, but the holiday spirit hasn’t completely sunk in for me, so it’s been trying to say the least.
The lights and tinsel smear into the same meaningless glow. Normally, I’m the one indulging Rudy as he admires every stupid wreath we pass, but today it slides off me, leaving nothing but a hollowness behind.
Jack always made Ho Ho Hockeymas stupidly loud. His laugh echoes in my head now, too bright for how dark this season feels. His absence stings even if I know he’s here in spirit.
The investigation isn’t helping. Clarissa Rose is still in the wind. Laurel hasn’t been found, and The Octopus remains a shadow we can’t catch.
And Erin—my girl. The last few days have been brutal. She barely sleeps. Sometimes, I wake to the mattress shaking, her back to me, her breath stuttering as she tries to keep quiet.
It breaks me.
My body aches for her, for the pain she can’t turn off. I can’t take away her thoughts, can’t shield her from the weight of it all. Even though I want to.
I wheel the trolley out the door. The cold metal of the handle bites into my palms as I shove it toward the truck and load up Byrdie.
By the time I finish, the guys are walking in my direction, and somehow, they’ve cornered a grumpy Brax along the way.
Their voices hit me like background noise at first, until Oliver’s hands land on my shoulders and force me into the present moment.
“We’re going to Hendrick’s Bar,” Oliver announces, shoving me gently down the street.
“This was supposed to be my quiet time,” Brax grumbles out.
“One drink,” Oliver insists.
“Fine,” Brax concedes.
“Relax, Braxy,” Oliver sings. “The lingerie shops to treat your lady friend will still be open.”
Hayes snorts.
“I don’t have a lady friend, fuckboy,” Brax deadpans.
Oliver points at him. “Fifty in the swear jar.”
Brax rolls his eyes.
I chuckle.
Typical Oliver.
Inside the bar, it’s quiet. The air swirls with stale beer, a sweetness I can’t place, and echoing laughter.
We snag a table and order drinks. I take a slow sip of my whiskey, letting the burn chase away the ever-present discomfort in my body.
“Okay, Pretty Boy,” Oliver says casually. “This is your intervention.”
My spine goes rigid.
Intervention?
Shit. I should’ve seen this coming.
I glance at my friends. They wear the same uneasy expression, except Brax, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else than here.
“What’s going on Chase?” Hayes asks, concern laced in his Papa Bear voice.
My grip tightens around my glass so hard my knuckles ache.
Austin leans in. “Ever since you and Erin came back from the hospital, things have been off with you.”
Rudy’s voice drops, gentler than usual. “Goose is quiet. I know her and Bella talked at the hospital about her mom. But that look she used to have when we were kids? The one I saw when I found out her mom was here—it’s back.”
Hayes glances at Brax. “You probably know more about this. That’s why you’re here. We’re a family. Erin’s part of that. Whatever it is—let us help.”
I look at Brax, confirmation in his gaze. I’ve seen this look before. He’s telling me it’s okay to share what we know. That we can trust them.
And so, I tell them everything.
They don’t interrupt. Don’t ask questions. Just listen.
The room tightens, and the silence after is loaded. Not even a beat passes before Hayes smacks me on the back of the head.
“You’re a fucking idiot.”
My head jerks forward.
In the blink of an eye, that molten hot look of anger on his face melts. His facial expression smoothes out as he says, “But I understand why you didn’t tell us.”
Eight words from the man we all look up to. The weight begins to ease. Keeping this bottled up has been more crushing than I realized.
Rudy speaks next. “You never told us.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“You know I have FOMO.” He groans dramatically, crossing his arms and resembling a grumpy toddler. It makes this moment a little easier.
I chuckle.
Pouty Rudy strikes again.
Even Brax’s lips twitch upward.
“This thing with Elliot—it’s so damn complicated.
I wanted to shield Erin from it but finding out we have the same ghosts is crushing her.
I’ve told her it changes nothing. That I love her.
I know she believes me. I know she won’t run.
But I can’t fix her thoughts,” I say as defeat threatens to crush me.
“I can’t stop the pain. I feel like I threw every bit of progress she made to the wolves and made her watch as they tore it apart.
I can’t lose her. Not after everything it took to get here.
I’m not sure I’ll survive if we don’t make it. ”
“You’re not gonna lose her,” Brax mutters.
“Brax is right,” Oliver adds, his voice catching. “None of us will let it happen. You two belong together.”
I’m surprised the words come from him, considering he’s a man who believes love is a crock of shit.
I glance around at my friends—my brothers. They’re ready to fight a battle that isn’t theirs, and gratitude builds inside of me.
They’re here.
We’re here.
And somehow, that’s enough.
I just have to show Erin that, too.