Chapter Twenty-One #2
“Or drive each other nuts.” Tyson shook his head. “We had two lovely cats. One died suddenly, and the other was bereft. We got her a companion kitten.” He snickered. “Oh my God, those two hated each other until the day she died.”
“Ouch.” Hamish’s eyes softened. “What happened to the companion kitty?”
“My wife got him in the divorce.” Tyson swiped a piece of bacon, eyed it, grinned, and ate it.
I raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, the damn thing never liked me. He’d have made my life miserable if I’d tried for sole custody or even shared.” He eyed another piece. “Thank God we never had kids.”
His comment hit me square in the chest. I’d assumed because he seemed like a guy who would be honest about something like that—but having that assumption confirmed reassured me.
“I thought I wanted kids.” Hamish pushed his eggs around his plate with his fork.
“And don’t get me wrong—I love my nieces and nephews.
It’s just…” He sighed. “I really like my job. I don’t want to have split focus.
” He shifted. “If I lose my license, though…I don’t know.
I’d have time for kids, right? But no way to support them.
” He glanced up at me under the flop of hair.
Then over at Tyson. “But you guys don’t need tending, right?
I mean I don’t have to worry about you being on your own or needing me constantly or—”
Tyson and I both chuckled.
“No, you definitely don’t need to worry about us.” I glanced around. “I think your plants will require more attention than us.”
Hamish straightened.
I held up my hand to stop any argument. “I know you’re worried about the hearing. We need to prepare for that. Later today, I promise.”
He nodded. Then paused. “Wait—don’t you have work?”
I shook my head. “With Julie doing the interview and Lisette wanting to shoot a scene between Lyric and Mirela, no one needs me.”
Hamish frowned. “Mirela?”
“Oh, Elouise Hynes’s character on the show.
She came to Vancouver to film a thriller last year, fell in love with Kelci, and came back to join the cast of VJ.
Her being Canadian meant the studio didn’t have to worry about work permits and shit.
She’s slotted in nicely and, while pretending to be on Justice’s side, has…
ulterior motives.” I waved my fork. “And I’m not telling you any more because this season is still shooting.
Will take longer, obviously, with Cole out of commission. ”
Tyson nodded. “And we still have all the previous seasons to watch. You sure you won’t get bored?”
I shook my head. “I never get tired of watching the show—even though I was there for most of the shooting and have, obviously, seen everything. The plots are always fresh, the acting is superb, and, of course, the stunts are awesome.”
Hamish smiled shyly. “I can’t wait.”
“We’ll get to it. But look, if you’re able to give us more attention because you’re off work right now, then we’ll obviously take it.
But I don’t ever want you worrying that I’m not getting enough.
From either of you.” I eyed Tyson. “We’ve all got demanding jobs and, at times, insane schedules.
” I grasped Hamish’s hands. “I don’t want kids either.
That was…” I swallowed hard. “That was always my sister’s plan.
And for a while, I thought I could honor her by having them.
” I cleared my throat. “But she wouldn’t have wanted me to make the sacrifice for her—and she wouldn’t have wanted that kind of pressure put on any hypothetical kids.
Plus, I wrangle actors for a living—that’s plenty of parenting right there. ”
Tyson chuckled but then sobered. “What happened to your sister?”
The meal I’d just consumed turned instantly to lead in my stomach.
He winced, obviously reading the room. “You don’t—”
I cut him off with a slash of my hand. “Yeah, I kind of do.” I met Hamish’s intense stare. “Because, you know…it’s about time.”
“How long?”
“She killed herself when I was twelve. And she was sixteen.”
Tyson sucked in a breath, but Hamish clumsily rose, nearly knocking over his glass of orange juice.
“Hey.” I snagged his arm. “What…”
“I…” His face went ghostly pale. “Just…”
“Not that?” I finished his sentence quietly.
He dropped back into his chair.
“You’re going to tell us.” I eyed him. “Right? Because I don’t know what your triggers are—”
“That would be the one.” He let out a humorless laugh. “One big fuckup.”
Tyson and I both winced.
Then Tyson stretched his arm across the table and curled his fingers—inviting Hamish to grasp it.
After a long moment, he did.
I loosened my grip on his arm and slid my hand down to his, then clasped that.
He looked over at me. “You first.”
Tyson snagged my other hand so we formed a triangle.
The other men couldn’t have been comfortable—stretching across the table—but I knew better than to say something.
Tyson would bear any discomfort. And if I suggested retiring to the couch or bed, we’d lose this connection. And might not get it back.
“Lisa and I were close growing up. Like, even though we had four years between the two of us, we were tight. After our mom died, she kind of took over raising me. Our dad worked hard. And like, we were poor. Really poor. Two-bedroom apartment in a run-down walk-up in Strathcona. We relied on food lunches to make sure we had enough to eat.”
Both Tyson and Hamish winced.
“But like, we were good. Or I thought we were. Lisa and I shared a bedroom, and that was okay. Sometimes I’d get scared, and I’d sleep in her bed.” I eyed Hamish. “She was also a restless sleeper.”
“Yeah…we’ll need to talk about that—”
“We’ll get a bigger bed.” Tyson winked. Then pivoted his attention back to me, silently encouraging me to continue.
“Like, until she turned thirteen. Then my dad said I needed my own room.”
Hamish sucked in a breath.
Tyson tilted his head. After a moment, he uttered, “Fuck,” quietly.
“Yeah, pretty much. I was nine. I didn’t understand.
” I blinked. “And Lisa never let on that anything wrong was happening. She kept taking care of me. I wanted to run the streets, but she never let me. I was one of the best kids in my class because she ran roughshod over me to make sure I excelled at everything. She said I was going to get out of that place once and for all. We made a plan.” I winced.
“In retrospect, she was preparing me for life without her. I couldn’t see that then—but I see it plainly now.
“Then I came home one day and found a note on the kitchen table. That simple—just a goodbye letter. With a list of things for me to strive for. And how if I dropped out of school or wasn’t the best at everything, she’d be disappointed in me.
” I bit the inside of my cheek. “I still didn’t get it until I went into my father’s room and found her lying on the bed. ”
“Jesus.” Tyson gripped my hand. “What happened?”
“I called 911. I screamed over and over. Eventually, everyone showed up—firefighters, cops, paramedics…yeah. All way too late.” I fought the nausea roiling inside me. “My father came home, and…well, I saw something in him that I’d never seen before. Relief.”
“Relief?”
“She was pregnant.”
“Oh shit.” Hamish squeezed my other hand.
“Yeah. I got the police report about three years ago. They gave the medical examiner’s findings—that Lisa was pregnant.
They didn’t do DNA regularly twenty years ago, and what would’ve been the point?
They assumed some local boy’d knocked her up.
Plenty of girls her age in that predicament.
At twelve, I didn’t have words to explain what I’d come to understand.
By the time I did, my father’d died. Hit by a train, of all things, while illegally crossing the tracks.
How he didn’t hear the thing, I don’t know. ”
“Maybe he didn’t want to.”
Tyson and I both shot our gazes to Hamish.
Hamish shrugged. “He must’ve known what he was doing was wrong.
And why some people have that compulsion, I’ll never understand.
But it exists. Some people—mostly men, but also some women—feel that drive to take what isn’t theirs.
And for sure, some recognize the urge as wrong and fight it while others give in.
Over and over again.” He blinked. “I’m sorry you went through that. ”
“You think he killed himself.”
“Perhaps…” He held my gaze. “Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part. But I’m relieved he’s no longer part of your life.” He winced. “That’s not a nice thing to say.”
“But it’s the right thing to say—to me.” I flexed my fingers.
“I stayed until the day I turned eighteen. Then I lit out of there. I’d been studying at a dojo, and I was ready to take it up a notch.
My instructor suggested theater school.” I laughed—with a bit of humor.
“He knew I didn’t have what it took to compete and be a champion but that I wanted to be the best at whatever I did.
He also saw a mischievous streak in me and thought he could direct me toward something that might use all my talents.
I auditioned and got in. Cole started at the same time, although he was two years older.
He’d had to work three jobs to keep a roof over their heads—his, Michael’s, and Caressa’s—while the other two studied.
Eventually, he fit in theater school. I thought I was nuts with a job and school. I swear, the man never slept.”
“And then…” Hamish prompted.
“My dad died a couple of years later. He didn’t leave anything behind if that’s what you’re asking.
No note. No savings. Nothing of value. I donated everything in the apartment and pretty much went on my way.
The city cremated him because I wasn’t doing that.
I don’t even know what they did with his ashes. I didn’t give a flying fuck.”
Or so you tell yourself.
I eyed my cold eggs. “Why don’t we get cleaned up?” I pivoted my gaze to Hamish. “And then you can tell us your story.”