Trapp #4
“But since you clearly want to talk about it . . . what’s this all about?
What has crawled up your ass in the past month?
And if you think I’m not entitled to know, I’ll remind you that four of my six sons were sitting in jail twenty-four hours ago, and we both know the only reason Liam wasn’t with you is that he’s underage and wasn’t allowed into the party.
I think I should understand where I went wrong, at the very least.”
Because I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know who I’m supposed to be now. He had spent so many years being the easy-going one, everyone’s friend, that he didn’t quite know how to answer now.
“After Julia left . . .”
“Yes, I heard all about the aftermath of that.” His father shrugged. “You save people’s lives on the side of the road. I think you’re entitled to a little poor judgment now and then.”
His laughter caught in his throat, nearly choking him.
“The new doctor from the clinic that reopened, she’s someone I knew from school.
We were . . . I really loved her, then. But it ended badly.
Someone at the coffee shop was talking with her about me and .
. . my whole reputation, Dad, in just a matter of days. Gone.”
His jaw moved, but his voice trailed off. He didn’t know how to explain the hurt he felt from the entire community. They were both quiet after that, the occasional chime from the computer screen the only sound.
“Do you remember what I used to tell the three of you when you were young, Trapp?”
“You told us if granddad was ever mean to Mommy to push him down the basement steps and call you.”
Jack choked out a hard bark of dark laughter. “Mm, I did tell you that. It almost happened once, didn’t it?”
“Grayson called you,” Trapp confirmed, easily thinking back to that long-ago day.
He had been crying, clutching his mother’s leg as his grandfather raged in the study, smashing bottles and picture frames.
Grayson had taken the phone and was hiding behind the couch, calling their father.
“Jackson already had the basement door open.”
“That’s not actually what I was talking about.”
Trapp breathed hard through his nose, his fingers flexing around the arm of his chair. He did remember. He’d only assumed that by being everyone’s favorite Hemming, he would somehow be exempt from the lesson.
“You told us they would always be watching. No matter what we did. They would look to us to lead. They would take their cues from us when it suited them and blame us when it didn’t.”
His father leaned forward, fingers steepled beneath his chin as he waited for Trapp to finish the rest.
“And when we misstepped, they would be waiting with knives.”
Jack sat back, picking up his coffee mug and swirling it in a way that made Trapp think it contained something other than coffee.
“Everyone loves a hero, Trapp. And you are that. But just as much, they love to watch their heroes fall. Stop giving them every bit of yourself. I’m glad you’re finally telling people no for a change.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” he bit out. “That’s easy for you to do. You’re Jack Hemming.”
“And you’re my son,” his father countered, leaning forward on his elbows, draining the mug that was almost certainly not coffee.
“Act like it once in a while. Fuck this town and everyone in it. Except for your family, because they won’t abandon you when you are less-than-perfect. Perfect isn’t what we ever expect.”
He exhaled hard, wheezing, suddenly feeling as if the room were more oxygenated than it had been when he’d walked in.
He didn’t like to admit that coming back to Cambric Creek without a white lab coat, stethoscope in his hand, had been the hardest thing he’d ever done, least of all to himself.
He’d made the choice then that if he wasn’t returning as Doctor Hemming, he’d be the next best thing — everyone’s friend, a community hero, the Hemming everyone liked, immune to the oft-repeated lesson from his childhood.
He hated that his father had been right all along.
“You’re coming to lunch,” Jack went on, his attention already returning to his poker game. “That’s not optional. Your mother needs to see you all together every month. All of you being home is her Christmas, and you’ll not deprive her of that. Bring the girl.”
His head snapped up. “What?”
Jack rolled his eyes, switching to one of the other, actual coffee mugs with a scowl. “Trapp, your brothers spent the night in custody because of you. You all look like you were in a prison yard brawl. I think they’re entitled to know whose honor they bled for.”
“How do you know there is someone?” He demanded, cursing a moment later, realizing he already knew.
Fucking Tris. His father had likely received a daily play-by-play since the morning he’d stormed out of Adriana’s townhouse.
“You know she’s not a wolf, right?” he challenged, already knowing too well how his father had felt about his human girlfriend.
Jack only shrugged. “Did you know that coyotes are the most successfully integrated were-species? They’re in every single state in the Unification, in every city.
Country, suburbs, it doesn’t matter. They’ve fully adapted no matter where they live, in a way few weres have been able to.
And they’re just tiny wolves, aren’t they? ”
He dropped his head back, wincing as he did so. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea . . .”
His father sighed, closing his screen and facing Trapp fully.
“Grayson said you’d be working it out with her and that if you did, she’d be permanent.
Was he wrong? And you know, just in case you’re not already aware of this, but every time you all let him magic away your problems, he gets stronger, like a wizard.
If that’s not the case, and she’s not someone of consequence, Tris is prepared to run an exposé on the clinic, highlighting the new doctor’s inability to—”
“If Tris ever writes a single fucking word about her, I will put his horns up his own ass.”
His father smiled, spreading his hands. “Perfect. I’ll let your mother know the extra place setting is necessary. Lunch is at two. We’ll see you both then.”