Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Kit
For the entirety of the monotonous drive to Mississippi, my thoughts oscillate between two points. One moment, I’m beating my head against the gold Marilyn Suite plaque as I pray and pray and pray for one last chance to lay eyes on Tess. The next, I’m envisioning Gage behind bars. I can practically feel the keys dangling from my fingertips, as though it’s my fault he’s finally created a problem that can’t be solved with a little charm and a whole lot of money.
It spares me from thinking about my parents, at least.
By the time their house appears in front of me, I can’t remember a single turn I took to get here. Just me, the low crackle of the radio, and an endless internal monologue that insists I’ve let down everyone who matters in my life.
The first time I brought Courtney here after we’d announced the engagement, I remember sitting in the car buzzing with anticipation. As a boy who’d become a man who craved his parents’ approval like no other, I felt like I’d won the lottery. All I’d ever wanted was a love like my parents’. One that stood the test of time and raising two rambunctious boys. Never mind that they insisted we were too young; I was going to prove them wrong. Make them proud.
It’s hard to believe we’d have been married nearly a decade by now. At the beginning it was easy to look forward and see a whole life laid out. But from where I stand now, the fault lines are so painfully obvious. We never would’ve worked. Never should’ve even tried. Courtney was yet another victim of my need to do everything perfectly. It’s hard to admit to myself, but it’s the truth. I have no right to blame her for seeking affection elsewhere, just like I can’t blame my parents for staring at the car the way they are doing now.
The balmy morning meets me with a firm embrace. I slam the door behind me and march up the walkway like a man headed to the gallows. But to my surprise, Mom meets me halfway. Her arms come around my neck, and she pulls me in so tightly I have to bend to conform to her small stature. “Oh Kit, thank you for coming.”
A firm hand slaps my shoulder. I glance up, and my dad has tears pooling in his deep brown eyes. “Two times in as many weeks, huh, son? Careful, now. We’re gonna get spoiled.”
I straighten up and take a step back from them both. “This is all my fault.”
Dad’s bushy brows crumple. “Were you driving the stolen car?”
I blink. “Well, no, but?—”
“Did you abandon it in a Greyhound parking lot in Mobile and skip town?”
“Obviously not.” I shift my weight. Glance from him to Mom and back. “But I?—”
“But nothing, Kit.” Dad places a hand on Mom’s back, then reaches for me with the other. It creates a sort of semicircle out of our bodies, with him at the center of it, staring me down. For a moment I feel like I’m eight years old again, bracing for a lecture. “Your mama and I appreciate what you were trying to do. You’re a damn good brother and an even better son.” His voice cracks, and the sound slices straight through my heart. “But that boy is not your responsibility. We brought him into this world. And we may look old and fragile, but we aren’t. It’s our job to parent him, not yours.”
Mom nods, her bottom lip wobbling. “I always let you take on too much when it came to him. That was so unfair of me, Christopher. We should’ve known something was wrong, what with you staying away and all. But we buried our heads in the sand because we wanted to believe he was better. We let you pull the wool over our eyes ’cause it was better than facing the truth.”
I try to swallow, but my throat is in knots. The sun burns like hot coals on top of my head. Sweat beads at my temples. Every instinct tells me they’re wrong. That it was my job, and I failed miserably. I don’t know how to see it any differently.
“It wasn’t just Gage.” I manage to force the words out, difficult as they are. “I let you guys down in so many ways. Leaving the military. Getting divorced.” I shake my head. “I was supposed to be the easy kid. The responsible one. And I fucked it all up.”
“ Language, ” Mom hisses because she can’t help herself. But her flattened lips curve into a sad smile.
Dad, on the other hand, lets out a strangled laugh. “‘Easy’ is the last thing any kid is supposed to be. Exhausting? Sure. Amusing as all hell? Absolutely. But I don’t believe any of those parenting books your mom made me read included the word ‘easy’ as it relates to child-rearing.”
Mom rolls her eyes, nudging my father with an elbow before leveling me with the kind of stare only a mother can master, somehow holding love and exasperation in tandem. “All we wanted for you in life was to be happy and safe. Your marriage ending didn’t disappoint us. Neither did you changing jobs. What would’ve been disappointing is you staying with someone who didn’t value you the way you deserve because you thought it was the right thing to do. Eff the right thing. It’s a load of bologna most of the time anyway.”
I choke on a chuckle. My face is wet, I realize, and not with sweat. With tears that have spilled from my eyes onto my cheeks, pouring in rivulets down the column of my throat. Mom reaches up to swipe them from my skin. Her touch is cool despite the heat. It reminds me of being little and her checking me for a fever. Sometimes I’d grab her hand and hold it in place because the iciness was such a reprieve from the fire burning me up inside.
I feel small all of a sudden. Dependent. And my God, it’s such a relief. To be a child to my parents, despite being grown. To let myself crumble and trust that they’ll be strong for me.
It makes me ache for Tess. For all that she misses.
She must sense the shift in my thoughts, because Mom half frowns at me and nods toward the door. “Should we go inside where it’s cool? I made some fresh sweet tea. You can tell us how the rest of your vacation went.”
I hesitate, worrying my bottom lip. “Isn’t there something we should be doing?”
Dad shakes his head. “We called that lawyer you mentioned. He’s coming by tomorrow to chat through next steps.”
“Until then?” I ask.
“We wait,” they say in sync.
“We wait,” I echo, hating how it sounds like giving up. Waiting for my brother. Waiting for Tess. I crave action, to feel like I’m actually doing something to move forward, but maybe that’s exactly why this is what’s best. If I’d slowed down sooner, perhaps love wouldn’t have caught me so unprepared. Then I could’ve been what Tess needed instead of just another person she felt she had to pretend to be okay for.
“Sweet tea?” Mom repeats while tugging my arm.
I nod. Allow myself to be dragged inside. We talk about Gage intermittently. They ask about Tess, and I surprise myself by being honest. We order pizza for dinner from the only joint in town that delivers, and we fall asleep exhausted and emotionally spent, with enough beer in my system to not obsess over the fact that my bed still smells like Tess.
The lawyer tells us there’s not much to be done until my brother is found. We each try to call him, but to no avail. After days of this, I finally relent that I’ll have to return to work. When it’s time to go, it’s much harder than I expect. But I leave knowing the air is clear between us, and for that I stand taller. I’m no longer shouldering the burden alone, and neither are they. We’ll face whatever comes as a family, for better or worse.
I promised myself I would give Tess space but can’t help texting her a picture as I pass the exit that leads to her hometown. Every mile that passes after feels like my heart is being pulled taut between two points. Where I’m going, and where I belong. With her. Yet I keep pushing forward, knowing it’s what’s best for us both for now.
Denver International greets me with its usual cacophonic chaos. I retrieve my Hellcat from the parking garage and drive in silence back to Loveless. The familiar streets feel wrong somehow. Like instead of mountains in the distance, there should be an ocean. Like a woman in a blue sundress should be strolling down the sidewalk, rings shimmering on every finger as she waves.
Twilight has settled in by the time I reach my small house on a tree-lined street. At first I don’t notice the figure waiting for me on my stoop. I’m too caught up in my own melancholy to be vigilant. It’s not until a familiar voice rattles the otherwise quiet night that I look up and my heart stalls in my chest.
Gage steps into the puddle of light cast by a nearby streetlamp. “Man, am I glad to see you.”
My professional instincts kick in before my brain can process what’s happening. By the time I’m fully online, I’ve already dragged my brother and my bags into the house and deposited both at my dining room table.
“What the fuck, man?” he grumbles. He reeks of cigarettes and body odor. God knows how long he’s been without a shower.
“My thoughts exactly.” I plant both hands on the table across from him and stare my brother down. His shaggy hair is even more bedraggled than usual, matted to one side of his head. He peers up at me with bloodshot eyes, and I wonder how the hell he still manages to find a fix even out of his normal environment. Addiction always finds a way; there’s no doubt about that. “So you can’t answer a damn phone call but you think it’s perfectly fine to show up at my house as a fucking fugitive?”
He throws his hands in the air. “What other choice did I have? This is all your fault anyway.”
My laugh is threadbare. “Please, enlighten me on how exactly it is my fault that you stole a car and nearly killed someone with it. Two someones, might I add. There was a kid in that car, Gage.”
“How the hell do you know that?” He at least has the decency to look horrified for a flashing moment before his walls of anger and indignation fly back up.
“Because I was first on the scene, asshole.”
His nostrils flare at the insult. “Well, I wouldn’t have been running in the first place if it weren’t for you. You wouldn’t let me go to Mom and Dad, and Easton‘s hotshot lawyer had the bright idea for him to testify against me to save his own skin. He kicked me out of his house. Said he couldn’t have contact with me.”
“So you decided to steal a goddamn car?”
“I borrowed his,” he bites out. “I was going to give it back. I just needed to get to this girl’s house, Chelsea. We’d been seeing each other here and there. She said I could hang with her till it all blew over. But then that bitch came out of nowhere on the interstate. I was in my fucking lane!”
It’s fruitless to point out just how unreliable of a narrator he is, so I don’t even bother. “I don’t think you realize just how big of a deal this is, Gage. That woman could’ve died. Hell, her son could’ve died.”
“But they didn’t!” he whines. After a beat, his eyes widen. “They didn’t, right?”
“No, and thank God for that. Because instead of vehicular manslaughter now you get to face vehicular assault and hit-and-run charges. On top of your drug charges. You’re going to go to prison.”
He shakes his head. “But not if you don’t turn me in. No one is looking for me here. You could help me. Come on, bro.”
I straighten and fist a hand in my hair. “You’re kidding me, right? You do realize I’m literally a cop. Or did the sheriff’s cruiser out front not jog your memory?”
Gage pales, the gaunt angles of his malnourished face suddenly becoming even more pronounced. Drugs have done a hell of a job with him. He was a handsome kid. Charming, when he wanted to be. If he’d made different choices, I imagine he could be married by now with a good job in something like sales, using his conniving ways to be a productive member of society at least.
“I’m your brother. You wouldn’t turn me in.” His voice warbles, but the conviction is clear in his eyes. As much as he knows I value my career, he also stands firm in the knowledge that I’ve always sacrificed everything to save his skin. Why would he think this time would be any different?
Will it be? Could I, honest to God, turn him in, knowing the fate that awaits him? I’ve worked in and around prisons for years. Gage is not some hardened criminal—I’ve never let it come to that. He’s an overgrown child who wouldn’t know a consequence if it slapped him in the face. The prison system would eat him alive.
Sure, my parents were happy to finally be let in on what’s happening, but could they ever forgive me for condemning their little boy to that fate?
I feel myself wavering. Falling back into old ways. But all I see when I close my eyes is a mother and son battered and bruised in their car. I think of Tess and her parents, and I swallow hard. This was not a victimless crime. And if I allow him to continue on this path, how long before he destroys more lives than just his own?
I shake my head. It’s all too much. Too heavy. And despite everything, I can’t bring myself to call our parents. Not when I can barely get a grip on myself.
I grab my keys from the counter and fist them so hard my hands scream for relief from the stabbing pain. “I’m going to get dinner. Don’t go any-fucking-where. Do you understand?”
Gage’s shoulders slump with relief and he nods vigorously. He thinks the argument is over, that he’s won. His big brother has saved the day yet again.
I slam the door behind me, cutting across the driveway to my deputy SUV in several quick strides. If he decides to run, the last thing I need is for him to hot-wire my work vehicle.
I send a silent apology to my Hellcat as I pull out of the driveway and head for the only place I can think to go.