Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
NORTH
I hate her.
Okay, I don’t hate her, but sometimes it feels like I do.
She’s ruined another good moment in my life.
Her presence ruined any chance we had to bask in the afterglow of making love—because that’s what it had been.
It was just as intense as before, just as hot, but the weight of Leo knowing how I feel about him sat heavily between us, and I know it meant something to him.
I think if I’d been given more time, he would have been able to tell me how he feels about me too.
I can tell he’s scared.
Hell, he’s not the only one terrified of being vulnerable in this relationship. It’s hard coming into his life and competing with a ghost. I have no idea where I stand. I have no idea if I will ever live up to those old memories of his first love.
I have no idea if there’s actually space for me in his broken heart.
But tonight might have been something if I’d been allowed to have a quiet moment with him after. Instead, in the height of pleasure, the sound of her call destroyed it, and now I’m washing the scent of Leo off me as he gets dressed in the other room.
The difference is, tonight I won’t be alone when I go see her. When Leo insisted on riding along with me, I decided to let him. As horrifying as it will be, knowing he’s seeing all the ugly, sharp edges of my life, it’s better that he know what it’s like sooner rather than later.
He needs to catch a glimpse of where I came from and the obligations I have toward her because, for the moment, my mom isn’t going anywhere.
I don’t want to bring more chaos into Leo’s life, but I also need him to understand this part of me, and maybe he’ll be the one who can accept all the unpleasant, raw, ugly pieces that make up who I am.
I feel a little woozy as I step out of the shower, but I know it’s anxiety. I’d rather be in pajamas in bed, curled up in Leo’s arms, but it is what it is.
I catch one last glance of myself before heading into the living room, where Leo is waiting, and the nervous feeling in the center of my chest calms a bit when I see him.
He looks so fucking sweet, sitting there on the couch in tight sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt.
His hair is askew—more curly than it normally is—and he looks up at me with his gorgeous eyes.
“Ready?” he asks.
I should be the one asking him that, but I offer him a smile anyway, and then my hands, which he takes so I can haul him to his feet. He leans into my chest, pulling me into a kiss, and my entire body relaxes.
“Wow. I think I needed that.”
He laughs as he kisses me one more time. “Me too.”
Pulling his hand to my mouth, I press my lips to his knuckles, then keep hold of his fingers as I grab my keys while he grabs his cane, and then we head out the door. He’s still slower than usual, his limp more pronounced and his feet still healing.
Part of me wants to lift him and carry him, but I don’t think he’ll appreciate that. Nothing upset him more than when his brother implied that he was delicate, though I know that wasn’t the word Easton meant to use.
He meant breakable.
He meant unable to take care of his own fragility.
I’m pissed at Easton for the way he handled seeing us, though I knew he’d be mad if he found out without one of us telling him first. He was going to be pissed either way, but nothing upsets him more than being left out. It’s something I’m not sure Leo understands.
But it’s something I have to handle later because my brain can only take one crisis at a time, and my mom has to be a priority right now.
I don’t know what the fuck is going on with her, but her voice sounded different tonight, and I have two missed calls from Westin and one from Henry, which can’t be good.
I attempted to call them both back, and then I tried Starr and Meadow, but no one was picking up, which means it’s bad. God, every time it feels like I’ve outrun the pain of my past, something like this happens.
As I buckle up, a warm hand touches the side of my neck, and I look over to find Leo staring at me.
“You’re crying.”
“What? No, I’m no—” I feel a tear slide down my nose. Shit, I am. “Uh…just ignore that.”
“No.” Leo’s voice is firm. “You’re allowed to cry, North. You’re allowed to feel things.”
I grimace. “Sorry. Old habits.”
“Old habits?” he presses. “What does that mean?”
I choke on the words for a moment, but I realize that maybe I don’t need to. Maybe I can just say things, and Leo will get it.
I take a slow breath before starting the car and pulling out onto the street. That gives me just enough time to find the words I want to say.
“When I was a kid, I wasn’t allowed to show emotion at home.
My stepdad…God, nothing pissed him off more than when I emoted in the house—whether I was sad or angry or happy.
It didn’t matter. If I was anything but stone-faced, it was like he was forced to remember I was a human child, and he hated that. ”
“I hate him,” Leo growls.
I snort and glance over at him. He looks furious. “Don’t worry, you’ll never meet him. If he ever gets out of prison after all his reoffending, he can’t come near anyone in my family. My mom was granted a lifetime protective order for all of us.”
“Good,” Leo says with a small snarl.
Snagging his hand off my neck, I kiss his palm, then hold my breath as I turn the corner. My mom’s complex comes into view, and I feel a punch of relief when I don’t see any emergency lights anywhere.
Her apartment is at the very back of the complex, right on the corner, and I swerve to avoid the speed bumps as I make my way down. It’s the dead of night, and I don’t see signs of life anywhere, until I see two figures huddling on the curb.
I recognize one as Westin, and the person holding her is Henry.
Fuck.
“Hey, I know her,” Leo murmurs as I pull into an empty spot beside Henry’s car. “She works at the café.”
“Uh. That’s my sister.”
His gaze snaps up to mine. “Your…oh my god. I should have known. North. West…”
“That was a coincidence,” I tell him. My smile is only a little forced. “My other sisters are Meadow and Starr.”
The corner of Leo’s mouth twitches.
“You can laugh about it later,” I say, then lean in to snag a quick peck before turning the car off and undoing my seatbelt.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Leo asks, his voice soft and unsure.
I take a breath to tell him no. To say that I’m not ready for my family to change the way he feels about me, but Westin makes the choice for me.
She wrenches open the door on Leo’s side and points at us. “You two?”
Leo nods before I can say anything. “I didn’t know who you were until right now.”
She draws in a breath like she’s going to shout, then instead throws her arms around Leo. “I’m glad it’s you.”
Something shifts in my chest. Something big. I have no idea what to do with that emotion, so I turn my gaze to Henry, who’s standing a few feet away, leaning heavily on his crutches.
Climbing out of the car, I make my way over, and as soon as I’m close enough to see his face in detail, I notice the cut on his lip. “She did that?”
Henry sighs and shrugs. “In her defense…”
“No. Don’t do that,” I beg. “Not tonight.”
Staring down at his feet, Henry shrugs. “I got in between her and West. She asked us to come over to help her with laundry. She was watching TV while I folded, and West was putting our save-the-dates into envelopes. Everything was fine, at first.” Henry clears his throat and wobbles, so I take a step closer and urge him to lean against me.
He does, though reluctantly. “I don’t know what happened.
She went quiet. Her eyes got kind of glassy.
Then she started screaming at the top of her lungs about how West can’t marry me—how I’m useless.
How I ruined everything. Then she started ripping up the envelopes, and West, ah… she kind of lost it.”
“Fuck,” I breathe out. Passing a hand down my face, I look over to where Leo and Westin are. He’s still in the car, and she’s leaning in with her hands on his shoulders. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but Westin’s mouth is moving a mile a minute.
Henry stiffens. “Who is that guy?”
“My boyfriend,” I say, then flush because, well, we haven’t really talked about that. But I don’t take it back.
Henry relaxes a bit. “I didn’t know Westin knew your boyfriend. I didn’t even know you were dating.”
“I wasn’t. It’s new.” Glancing toward the apartment, I see the door’s half-open. “How did the lip get hurt?”
Henry groans. “She hit West twice with her glass, and it shattered. Gashed her forehead really good. I stepped in between them, and she got me with it. It’s not a big deal. It’ll be fine.”
I hadn’t noticed any blood on her, but it was also dark in the truck since my cab light is out.
“Did you call the cops?”
Henry shakes his head. “I didn’t think they’d help. Your mom is clearly having some kind of mental health crisis, and I was scared of what they’d do to her. After I got West out of reach, she started hyperventilating, and then she just went silent. I figured it was better for us to wait out here.”
“I called everyone,” I told him, “but no one picked up.”
“Our phones are inside. I was more worried about getting West out of there so I could make sure she didn’t need the ER.”
My EMT instincts kick in. “I’m going to go check on her, then head into the apartment. Don’t go in, even if it sounds rough.”
He gives me a dubious look but nods all the same. “Good luck.”
I meet his gaze, and I see his fear. And how much he cares. I swear to god I don’t deserve it, but I want to. I want to do better by him. I don’t want him to regret any of this.
For his sake and for Westin’s.
Marching over to the truck, I take my sister by the shoulder and spin her, and it’s there in the parking lot lights that I can see the blood on her temple. There’s a nasty cut along her hairline, but it’s no longer bleeding.
Westin rolls her eyes. “I’m fine.”