Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
TRIPP
I am mad.
Beyond mad.
My parents are too good. Well, my mom more than my dad. He just goes along with it now.
The kitchen is stacked with grocery bags, there is a cute white highchair sitting in the corner and new toys everywhere. I would have liked to have had a say in this, but no, of course I just get it sprung on me.
I'm pacing up and down the hallway and Riggs is watching me, letting out a low chuckle every now and then.
“Glad you think it's funny,” I stop for a moment and place my hands on my hips, my foot is tapping. “How would you have liked it if mom and dad moved Aspen in when she first came back?”
That soon shut him up.
His mouth opens then shuts like a damn guppy fish in a bowl.
“Exactly,” I cross my arms across my front when I see my dad emerge from the kitchen.
“Stop sulking,” he groans, taking some bags up the stairs and no doubt into Dixie's room. He is back down in moments.
“I don't understand why you asked her to stay,” I stammer out.
“You do realise the life that girl had, right?” He stands toe to toe with me, and Riggs stands a little taller, eyes on me the whole time.
Dad has softened in his old age, but we all remember what he was like when we were just kids.
“Fully aware.”
“Then let us do something for her, she is back for a reason, but there is something in that girl’s eyes that shows just how terrified she is to be back here. So put your fucking differences aside, and for her sake, make her feel welcome. It's the least you could do.”
My dad's tone is abrupt but what he is saying is true and I kinda hate it.
“Fine, but don't think I’ll be helping out and be a ‘step in daddy’, I have enough shit on my plate that I need to deal with without having to deal with a broken-hearted girl and her bastard kid as well.”
And that's when I hear the front door slam.
I turn to look in that direction and see Aspen, my mom and Dixie.
My vicious words splinter across her face and my heart drops from my chest, plummeting into the darkest depths.
I'm such an asshole.
My dad just gives me a hard pat on the chest as if to say well done jackass and I feel like the worst fucking possible human ever.
He walks over to Dixie, taking a fussing Lainey off her and disappears into the kitchen. My mom shakes her head in a disappointed manner and Aspen can't even look at me.
My chest tightens, my heart aches.
“Dix... I...”
She holds her hand up and lifts her nose in the air as she follows my mom and dad into the kitchen, and all that's left is Riggs.
Fighting a smirk, hands fisted into his back pockets, he lets out a low whistle.
“Man,” he chuckles, “you fucked up.”
“Don't I know it,” exasperation coats my tone and then it's just me, standing alone in the lobby.
Cleaning up for dinner, I am showered and dressed in cargos and a tee. The atmosphere has been tense. Mom and dad haven't spoken a word and Dixie has been hidden in her room.
I'm not an asshole guy, I am a good guy. Was always told that.
It's not you it's me.
You're a really nice guy.
You're too nice for me.
You’re too good for me.
I scrub my face. Messing my hair up, I pace into the hallway just as Dixie walks out. Waves of anxiety lap against the ocean blue of her eyes, fingers curled around the baby monitor and I watch as her knuckles slowly turn white from her death grip.
“I... I...” she stammers, and I step forward, holding my hand up.
“You don't need to say a word,” I roll my lips and I ignore the ache that is still radiating through my chest hours on. “I was out of line.”
She shakes her head, long brown curls masking her face for a moment. “You have every right to be angry with me, I have turned up like an unwanted hurricane, shredding your life to pieces after leaving ten years ago...” she pauses, anchored to the spot outside her room. “I'm only here for a while, then I’ll be back on my way,” and with that she walks downstairs.
I wanted to say so much more to her, but I didn't.
I admitted I was out of line, but if I kept talking, I would have dug myself a hole. Then I would have buried myself alive, slowly suffocating.
Waiting a beat, I follow her down.
Mom had spent most of the afternoon cooking a brisket for dinner and the whole house smelt amazing. My stomach grumbles and that’s when I realized I hadn’t eaten a bite today, I have purely survived on coffee.
A clamber has me jumping and I see Pacey stumble through the front door.
“Pace?” my eyes scan over my baby brother and I can't work out if he is drunk or sober.
“Yup,” he looks around with a squint, fingers gripped round the doorknob.
“You okay?” I ask and he sneezes loudly.
“Bless you,” he blesses himself. “Thank you,” he thanked himself.
“You blessed yourself,” I blink, head slightly tilted.
“No problem,” he okays me with his finger and thumb then stumbles forward towards the kitchen. “Ma!” he calls out and I feel Dixie looking at me. I ignore the urge to face her, to let my eyes sweep over her beautiful face.
Moving forward, Pacey is lifting the pots and pans to see what's cooking. Mom slaps his hand away and tsks.
“Pacey, you're drunk. Go to bed,” she scolds, and my dad rolls his eyes but doesn’t move from his spot at the breakfast bar.
“Come Pace, lemme get you up...” I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and he shrugs me off, pushing me in the chest and knocking me off my feet.
“It's all your fault,” he slurs standing over me and my brows pinch.
I know he is talking shit. He is angry, I get it, but attacking me isn't going to help.
“Hey!” I hear the bellow of Riggs as he barrels across to where Pacey is stumbling. He grabs Pacey and drags him from the kitchen as I push myself from the floor to my feet.
“You okay?” Aspen asks, rushing to my side and checking me over.
“I'm fine,” I grunt, turning myself away from her.
“Jorge, all the kids are home,” my mom's tone is uninterested and sarcastic, my dad grunts in response.
“Idiot,” I chew the inside of my cheek.
I dust my cargos down and grab the plates from the kitchen cabinet as I start to lay the table when I hear the sound of shouting and banging.
Dixie looks terrified.
We all just continue as normal.
Pacey has had too much to drink, and thinks the whole world is against him.
Austin is his best friend. Sure, there is an age difference, but he and Austin always hit it off. He is protective of him, and what Austin is being dragged through is not ideal. We all know it wasn't Austin, but it's hard to prove an innocent man as not guilty when everyone who cares believes the rumours.
Yes, we were the last people to see Clay alive.
Yes, Austin and Pacey put his beaten body into the back of the truck. But he was still breathing. He was conscious. Just bruised and bloody.
“Can I do anything to help?” Dixie asks, her sweet voice floating through my heavy thoughts.
“I need to grab some wine, wanna come with?” I'm even surprised I have asked her to come with me.
“Sure,” she shrugs her shoulders up, placing the baby monitor on the center island and follows behind me.
Walking out the front of the house, I jump the steps of the porch and round the corner of the house when I come to the basement doors. Unbolting them, I tug both open and hold my hand out to help her over the lip and onto the step.
She looks at me, hair blowing softly in the spring breeze, her hand a little cautious to fall into my palm. Her eyes bounce between mine and I watch as the once angry waves are now calm. She makes me feel safe. And I like that.
Her hand slips into mine, if only for a moment as she steps over and I feel the current swarm through me, singeing my nerve endings and as painful as it feels, I don't want to let go of her.
I follow behind her, pulling the light cord as we climb down onto the fourth step and I scoff when I see the fairy lights hung from the oak ceiling beams.
“Fairy lights?” she asks, looking over her shoulder at me.
“Aspen. Scared of the dark. Riggs put them everywhere. He never wanted her to be afraid...” I trail off as we step into the basement, and I look around for a bottle or two of red. “Do you drink red?” I ask, letting my fingertips brush across the dusty bottles sitting in their racks.
“I do,” and I don't miss the way a pinch of crimson splashes into her cheeks and my lips pull slightly at the corner into a smirk. But she misses it.
“Merlot?” I slip a bottle out just past it's neck, “or a Rioja?”
“Merlot,” she nods.
“Or...” I pause as my fingers dance over to another bottle, “a cabernet?”
“Cabernet,” she smiles, giving a confirming nod.
“Two bottles?”
“The whole family is here, so why not,” she steps beside me and slides a bottle out.
“Sound perfect,” I take my own bottle and hold my hand out for her to take the lead. We walk back towards the steps in silence, and as she climbs the steps, I don't miss my chance to sneak a look at her ass.
Now it's her turn to hold her hand for me, and sure, I don't need her help, but I take it.
Because for just a moment, I feel like she soothes all my worries.
Like my own personal dreamcatcher.
Walking back into the house, I hear the light chatter coming from the kitchen. Anxiety cripples me when I see Riggs' face.
The man can't hide his thoughts even if he wanted to, his expressions always give him away. If he was guilty, his expressions would be the thing to do it.
“What is it?” my chest rattles as I place the bottles on the countertop, Dixie slipping up behind me and placing her bottle next to mine.
Riggs’ eyes lift over my shoulder, and I know he is looking to Dixie.
“I'm going to check on Lainey,” her voice is quiet, and my eyes follow her over my shoulder as she disappears.
Riggs exhales heavily, head dropping for a moment.
Aspen is nowhere to be seen.
“Shits getting real bad, Tripp,” and I can hear the concern that laces his voice.
“What's happened?” my hands rest on the woodblock of the counter, warmth radiating through me.
“Austin is being sent to trial in two weeks,” I watch as his throat bobs.
“What?” my eyes widen, and I am already slipping my phone out of my pocket looking for Kelcie's number.
Riggs places his hand over it and pushes it down, shaking his head from side to side.
My brows crinkle, eyes bouncing back and forth between my older brother’s.
“Kelcie is the one that pushed for it.”
“FUCK!” I shout, slamming my hand on the worktop and instantly regret it, my hand throbs and Lainey screams.
I tip my head back and let my eyes close.
That's why Pacey said it was my fault.
I appointed Kelcie.
He made quick work of getting rid of Pacey as Livestock Commissioner as soon as he was in. I put it down to protecting us, but seems I was wrong.
“What are we going to do?” my voice cracks and honestly, I feel like my chest is going to cave in. I want to cry. Full on sob like a little boy. I want someone to tell me everything is going to be okay, but the truth was, no one could.
I had to deal with this myself.
I just didn't know how to.