Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Myles
We took my car to Montana. I drove, and Wynn navigated around the snowed-in routes through Wyoming.
Coasting down the long driveway to the big house I’d left three months ago before the break filled me with anxiety. The snow dotting the brown landscape only proved how long it’d been since I’d left. Only the trees stayed green, and the higher the mountains crested, the more snow capped them.
I was back on Bailey land. Tate and Teller had visited me that one time, and then they’d gone, and I had assumed I wouldn’t see them again. I had convinced myself I would be fine without seeing Wynn again. But she was stubborn, and it turned out, so was I.
Tomorrow, I’d meet my brothers. Wynn thought she was coming along, but I had no idea what we’d be walking into. I didn’t want her to witness how Gianna lived. I didn’t even know how she lived. All I knew was how much her rent was and what kind of car she drove—I paid for them.
I’d gotten their names. Our mother had named us Myles, Lane, and Cruz. Some inside driving-themed joke only she’d been in on.
Lane was the one who’d called. He hadn’t picked up when I’d rung Mom’s phone back. Or when I’d messaged him to talk.
Finally I’d texted him. Do you really believe our mother when she said I knew about you?
Eventually, he’d replied. Fair point. Then he’d sent the day and time he and Cruz were meeting with the funeral home director. There’d be no funeral, no viewing, no reception, just arrangements to put her in the ground. Then I could figure out how to live without her harassment.
Mae came outside, a wide smile on her face and relief radiating from her.
She’d thrown her long, puffy black winter coat on but hadn’t zipped it.
I got out and went straight for the apology.
Unlike my mom, I knew when I was wrong, and I wouldn’t be afraid to admit it.
“I’m sorry, Mae. For the way I left.” A cloud of condensation left my mouth as I spoke.
Her arms were out wide. “I’m sure there was a reason.”
I was encompassed in her warm embrace. My hold went around her automatically, and for once, I let myself be comforted by a mother figure who cared about me in a functional, healthy way.
The guilt that usually welled up until I wanted to push away stayed at a low simmer. Gianna hadn’t been more than her addiction for a long time, but it was hard to shake the loyalty of a son.
“I’m sure you can figure out the reason why,” I said as I pulled away. Cold snaked in around me with the wind. My jacket was in the car.
Wynn slid a hand across my back as she passed. She had her winter coat draped over her other arm, and the backpack that held the only clothing she’d packed over her shoulder. “I’m going to make us a bite to eat.”
“Let’s go in.” I gestured for Mae to follow Wynn. Mae looked like she wanted to talk to me, but I wasn’t willing to keep her out in the cold for privacy. Wynn knew enough. “I’ll grab my bag.”
Mae looked over her shoulder, then back at me. “She was here,” she said quietly.
Gianna? Ice trickled into my veins. “She came to the house?”
She couldn’t have harassed the Baileys without me knowing.
I’d have known. Right?
Fuck. My skin went from ice to hot and prickly. I’d left, and she’d harassed the Baileys anyway? Goddammit. My issues shouldn’t spill over on anyone. “How bad was she?”
Shame spiraled in my gut. Her behavior shouldn’t reflect on me, but I took responsibility for it. My absence was supposed to save others from it.
It hadn’t. All it had done was dilute her effects on me. I’d been too far for her to do much to me. Had that been my real goal all along? To spare me from her?
The sympathy that filled her gaze told me enough. “She was agitated. Angry. So, so angry. Desperate.”
That described Gianna most days. The difference was that she could usually mask it. She couldn’t manipulate if she revealed what she’d become, and if she hadn’t been keeping her mask in place, then she’d been deteriorating. As I’d suspected.
The loss squeezing my lungs sent confusing signals to my brain.
Mae closed the distance between us and squeezed my arm.
“It’s okay, you know. What you’re feeling.
You’re not just mourning the addict who made a mess of your life, you’re going to grieve for the mom she was when you were young.
The life you two could’ve—should’ve—had.
She’s going to leave a hole, no matter what. ”
My grief bloomed. So fucking true, and I hated it. But to hear someone else understand, just like Wynn had? I could get through the pain easier. “Thanks, Mae. It’s hard to get used to.”
“I’m glad you let Wynter know what was going on.”
“I shouldn’t have called her.” That earned me a hard look from Mae, but I had one more major question. “Did you know I have brothers?”
Her brows popped so high it was a wonder she didn’t reel backward. “No. Brothers? How many?”
She hadn’t known. Part of me had been fearing betrayal, but the concern was a moot point. “Two. That I know of. She got them to think I was ignoring their existence.”
“I wish I was surprised.” Her breath puffed out.
“Go inside, Mae. You’re getting cold.”
She grinned. “You sound like Darin.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” The highest sort. I was grinning by the time I got to my car. Yet when I caught my reflection in the window, a resentful, disappointed reflection of my mother stared back at me.
She’d never leave me. And I’d have to make sure her lingering effect on this world didn’t hurt people I loved, especially Wynn. The only way to keep her out of harm’s way was to isolate myself.
Wynter
“He left without me!” I yelled into the phone.
I’d told that headstrong jackass I would have to run to the distillery in the morning and catch up with a few emails I’d abandoned when I’d gone to Denver.
And when I’d returned to the house, he’d left.
I’d headed straight to the guest room to double-check that yep, the simple black suitcase he’d packed was gone before I’d called Summer.
Fury and hurt tumbled inside me. What would it take? What did I have to do to get that man to let me in?
“Are you sure he’s in Bozeman?” she asked.
“That’s where Lane and Cruz are.” I’d filled her in on Gianna and the brothers.
“Maybe he’s grabbing a few groceries?”
“The man’s ghosted me four times now.”
She tsked. “Then you should leave him in the dust. Change the locks while he’s gone.”
“It’s not my house,” I said flatly. Changing the locks only worked if you thought the person was returning. I didn’t know if he’d come back, so I’d have to find him. “Which funeral home do you think he’s meeting them at?”
“You keep chasing after him, he’s going to keep taking you for granted. Let him go, Wynter. If he’s willing to do what he has to, to be with you, he will.”
“It’s not a pride thing. He’s hurting.”
“And he keeps hurting you.” She wasn’t going to waver.
“I guess you’ll have to trust me.”
“I’ll be there with crappy wine and excellent bourbon when he breaks your heart. Enjoy your bangs.”
I growled. “Just because you’re the oldest doesn’t mean you know anything.” Yes, I was being childish.
“Keep telling yourself that. Mountain View Funeral Home. They have the best prices and a decent reputation. A popular choice if money’s an issue.”
“Thank you.” I didn’t feel grateful. Her earlier words had hit a target my brain couldn’t ignore.
Four times. Three if I didn’t count when we were kids, but I shouldn’t ignore those red flags. I should stop and think about chasing after a damaged man who’d made little effort to pursue me.
But he took care of me during storms.
Fair trade?
Wasn’t starting to feel like it.
I darted out of the house and ran right into Teller.
“Whoa, where’s the barn fire?”
I scowled at him. “It’d be in the barn.”
“Which one? The pole barn? The calving barn? The—”
“Teller!”
He blocked my path. “Where’s your boyfriend?”
Didn’t that question hit me in the gut. Myles had gone out to help with chores, like the dutiful guest he could be. Tate hadn’t acted surprised, just put him to work. “He went to Bozeman.” I tried to step around him without landing in the snow.
He blocked me, nimble for a big, imposing oaf. “Without you?”
“Teller, not you, too.”
“Not me, too? More than one person is trying to talk sense into you?”
“You don’t know what he’s been—”
“Guess what? It doesn’t matter. He’s old enough and smart enough to know how to treat someone. Leaning on the excuse of his upbringing or that his mama was psycho doesn’t matter.”
“She was an addict.”
“Doesn’t matter, Wynter. If some guy kept breaking Autumn’s heart and making her cry, would you encourage her to go back to him?”
I opened my mouth. Shut it. I’d want to gut the man.
I’d be calling Summer behind Autumn’s back to plan a way to shred three of his tires instead of four so insurance wouldn’t cover the damage.
He’d find the trees in his yard toilet-papered—and his car, his mailbox, and his entire house.
We’d come up with so many half-brained ideas that were scary yet tempting enough to carry out.
And if Junie was home? We’d all get tossed into jail.
But what if Autumn felt as strongly for this hypothetical guy as I did for Myles?
Then I’d wonder why she didn’t have more self-respect.
My feelings had only built since I’d first stepped foot in his office. Sure, he’d been a prick, but he’d hooked me with his brooding glare. Then he’d hired me, and I’d been toast.
I was indeed toast. Burned and crispy and hurting. But I couldn’t ignore how I felt about him. “What if I’m in love with him?”
Teller scratched the back of his neck. The tip of his nose was red, and so were the apples of his cheeks.
His Carhartt hat covered his mahogany hair and the tips of his ears.
“I’d say you have to ask yourself if you want to chase him until you end up living in Foster House.
Will you spend your time hoping he never moves without you?
Do you want to be afraid you’re going to randomly find him gone? ”
Hot tears filled my eyes. I sniffled.
Teller grabbed my shoulders and stooped to meet my gaze.
“I doubt he’ll agree with me, but he’s thought of himself for most of his life.
It’s going to take a cold blast in the face to make him see how selfish he’s being.
And if he can’t wake up and see what he’s got right in front of him, then do you really want to be the girl always trying to keep a guy’s attention?
” He patted my shoulders and then moved around me to go inside the house.
I jingled the keys in my fingers. The cold metal against my chilled fingers would make my skin lose sensation. I concentrated on the feeling, clinging to the encroaching numbness. My head grew clearer the colder and more uncomfortable I got.
Did I want to be the girl always trying to keep a guy’s attention?
This morning, I’d been highly paranoid. At work, I’d rushed through my emails, approved marketing strategies I’d barely glanced at, and signed off on bar hours without considering.
I’d told myself I didn’t want to keep Myles waiting. That he had unfinished, important, deeply personal business he was waiting on me for.
But I’d been scared. The distance between us this morning hadn’t been his distraction, or his trepidation, or that he was half in his head about work he hadn’t expected to miss.
He’d purposely held himself away from me, knowing he was going to ghost me.
I jingled my keys again. I could go back into the warm house, wait to see if he returned, and if he didn’t, I’d get on with my life. Or I could try to find him in Bozeman. And on the drive there, figure out what to say when I saw him.