Chapter Twenty-Five - Colt
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Colt
“Thanks again, guys,” Blaire says from the front seat, scanning the three of us from where I’m driving in the front to Briggs and Reese in the back.
“Blaire, if I hear you thank us one more time, I’m going to start blasting ‘On the Road Again’ on repeat for the rest of the drive.” Reese says as he grips the back of her seat and brings himself closer to her.
She leans back, getting closer to him, and shuts her eyes.
“I know. But you stood up to my mom and now you’re leaving the ranch just to get out of town. You probably have things to do.” She blurts everything out in one long, frenetic sentence.
Our little confident and stubborn Hollywood is going through something right now. She’s been like this ever since we left. Thanking us for every little thing and apologizing for things she shouldn’t apologize for.
I don’t know what’s shaken her, but the list of possibilities seems pretty long right about now.
“Has your mom always been like that?” I say, looking to the road instead of at her .
She takes a long sigh. “How much did you hear?”
“All of it,” I answer honestly. I was already heading to the door to see who had just pulled up when Blaire opened the door before me.
She takes another sigh. I glance over and watch her stroking Sunny’s back, who chose Blaire’s lap for the car ride, as they both look out the window at the grassy plains. I understand her hesitance to answer my question. We don’t talk about these things. At least, Blaire and us Rile brothers don’t. But if our suspicions are right, then Blaire does talk about these things. Just with the protection of a keyboard and a screen.
Another beat of silence passes and I think about changing the subject and pretending I never asked anything.
Just when I’m about to give in, she opens her mouth and I’ve never shut my own damn mouth more quickly.
“That summer,” she starts. “The worst summer.” She says and, of course, I know what summer she’s referring to.
“Yeah.” I nod, not needing her to explain any further. The summer our parents died. The summer her Gram died. The summer everything between us died.
“My mom and I had been disagreeing about everything for a while before that summer. She wanted my career to go a certain way, franchises and brand deals and just everything that would make a ton of money. I didn’t want any of that. So we fought, and we fought.” She picks at a sticker on the window nervously. “Until we didn’t. She just disappeared. When she didn’t even show up for her own mother’s death, I had my lawyer try to figure out what the hell was going on. It wasn’t too long before we figured out she had withdrawn everything from my largest savings account and left the country. She still had access to it, as she had been involved in my finances since I was a kid. I never pressed charges because, well, she’s my mom. I think I was hoping it would just all end up being some big misunderstanding.”
“And that’s the first time you’ve seen her since?” Briggs asks from the back seat. He’s a calm man, but I can hear the anger in his voice and I don’t blame him.
She nods and we sit in silence for a beat, the sound of the truck humming all around us.
“I think all my apologizing might not just have to do with today,” she finally says with a deep breath.
I grin to myself. Oh, you think, Hollywood? I certainly could never have guessed.
“I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you guys.” I hear a sniffle in her voice, which I was not expecting. It breaks something open in me, hearing her get emotional. I swallow hard and reach out to take her hand in mine while my eyes stayed glued to the road. I know I can’t look at her right now or I might break down, too. But I squeeze her soft palm against mine and she grips me tightly.
“I was just so angry at the world. And somehow each of you let me forget that in your own different way.”
“Is that all we do for you? Let you forget?” I ask as I tap my left thumb on the steering wheel. Yeah, I’m an asshole for pushing her when she’s this vulnerable. But I’m not going to let her off too easily on this one. I need her to give me more than that.
“I wish that’s all you do for me,” she mutters, pulling Sunny in close to her body for comfort.
This conversation is getting intense and quickly. And hell, I’d say it’s long overdue.
“You never responded to me,” she finally says quietly. “After the accident, I wanted to be there for you. I knew I was probably the last person you wanted to hear from, but I couldn’t not reach out. And I understood, of course, when none of you responded. I thought maybe in a few months, I’d hear from you. But then I never did. ”
Now it’s my turn to feel shaken. It’s a tough topic to talk about.
“We thought you’d come to the funeral,” Briggs’ voice is deep and grave from the backseat.
Blaire sits up straight. “You have to know that I would have if I was anyone else, right? But if I had gone, then it would have made the entire thing about me. I thought that was the last thing you wanted.”
I do know that. Of course, we all know that. But it still would have meant something to us if she did show up.
“We knew we needed to do everything in our power to be the best we could be for Kaylee.” I say. “It wasn’t because we were mad at you, Blaire. Hell, we know that we can all take just as much blame for what went down between us. But we couldn’t play with fire anymore. And yeah, you’re the damn fire. One text back could have led to hell only knows what. So we thought we’d see you again and explain in person. But then you just never came back.”
“I know, I get it.” She nods. “You guys are so good with Kaylee. You did the absolute right thing.” She sighs. “And yet, here we are, running away together to a remote cabin. I seemed to have fucked things up in one week.”
Reese laughs. “Go ahead and fuck us up, Blaire. We can take it this time.”
She chuckles and some of the tension finally leaves the car.
I pull into the drive that leads to our small cabin in the mountains. When it comes into view, I stop breathing. We don’t come here anymore. Ever since our parents passed, we’ve paid a neighbor to come check on the place. While the ranch was handed down generation after generation, this place only ever belonged to my parents. They built it with their own two hands and it never quite felt right coming here without them. It was a symbol of their love for each other.
But it was the only place that felt right taking Blaire when she needed us. And I don’t take that feeling lightly. I am all too aware it means something. I just wonder if Blaire does, too.