3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Remington James
L istening to Ceily and Grady discuss his aunt, my thoughts go to Uncle Skip. Seven years ago, he lost his only sibling and his wife. Permanently. I barely had time to process that before Carlotta Marlow’s letter sent me on a trip down a rabbit hole. Have I been too hard on Skip? He said shitty things to me in his office, but I didn’t help matters. Then there’s the fallout from another decision made by my dearly departed mother. It’s Aunt Bo’s reasoning that leaves me confused. Skip adored her, their life was happy if not a little eccentric.
Natalie knew. All these years of me trying to tolerate her babyish behaviors, she’s been tolerating me right back. The cousin she didn’t know or understand. My mom’s resurgence in their lives resulted in the devastation of losing her mom.
No amount of displaced blame makes it right.
Hating me or my behavior doesn’t fix it.
But it does explain things. Skip’s avoidance talking about the accident or mom, His preference for Natalie’s feelings, and me feeling like an obligation to him. He sees his sister in me and feels guilty about hating that.
Originally, I told my uncle I would stay the summer as he got things up and running with his newly acquired business before returning to Florida. A week ago, I was thinking about the long term-building a life here. Not anymore. Whether it’s art school or finding a quiet place to hunker down. I’m leaving. I’ll stay long enough to assist Skip, help Wilder clear his name, and say goodbye to the guys. Because goodbye feels inevitable. It’s going to hurt like hell, but goodbye is coming.
Bucket list item number nineteen: Follow through with a tough decision, even if it breaks my heart.
But even as I think about it, I can’t imagine leaving them behind.
My heart feels weaved together with Cal and Charlie’s now. I can’t discount the chemistry with Wilder or Grady, either. Goodbye? It might prove impossible.
“Here sweetie.” Ceily hands me a mint green lacy handkerchief from the turn of the century, wrinkled with a couple of stains. “It’s raining like a cow pissin’ on a flat rock.” She points to my face. “You’ve got a smear of your eye makeup on your cheek.”
Not that I care much currently. I politely take the proffered cloth, trying to use an outer piece because it’s seen better days. She takes my thank you, tells Keenan to make himself useful by grabbing her a pen and paper. Jotting a note for Grady with her phone number, she promises to bring him home cooked meals. Keenan and I share a look. Maybe we can intervene by doing the said ‘cooking’ portion. I think he’s upset enough.
“I need to talk to you,” I say in quiet urgency to Keenan when I corner him near the nurse’s station where he’s returning the pen and pad of paper.
He’s the only person I can tell about the letter.
I haven’t hidden in a bathroom sharing secrets since middle school, but this was close and private. Pulling him inside the family bathroom and locking the door, I tell him everything. Skip’s accusations, the letter Alanna and I found in Lala’s office… he listens while I spew it all.
“Whoa. Like… holy shit.” Keenan forgets himself sitting down on the open toilet with the seat up almost getting a wet bottom. “Holy, holy fucking shit.” He jumps back up.
I nod at him. There aren’t adequate words for how messed up this is.
“But it can’t be Grady.” I knew that would be one of his first responses. “It can’t be. I will never believe that.”
And I can’t believe it would ever be Cal or Charlie. Not my boyfriends. They lost their sisters. Would Skip ever hurt Relia? Would I ever hurt Natalie? There isn’t a thing in the world that could force me to do that. It’s not them. But Grady?
“Was Carlotta kind of…” What’s the sensitive way to phrase this? “Was she kooky? Maybe she came up with weird theories because she wasn’t right in the head?”
Keenan toys with one of his braids, taking my hand. “Not a bit, unfortunately. She was pretty well respected around here. Lots of people trusted her with their properties.” And secrets?
That is not comforting.
A light knock proceeds Wilder’s low voice, “I know you’re in there, can you open up?”
Keenan’s hand flies to his mouth as he shakes his head no. “It’s fine,” I say to him.
Unlocking the door, peeking out to see if anyone is watching, I tug him into the bathroom. Which is getting a bit crowded. “I told him.”
“Let’s just agree that you shouldn’t be telling anyone what was in that letter.” He’s irritated, but that’s his default dealing with me. “We still don’t know why she thought what she did. I’m not convinced.”
“Me, either,” Keenan says.
I don’t want to believe it, but she spent two years looking into the drownings. She has proof that they weren’t accidental. She even came up with suspects. Now she’s dead. It’d be a lot less heartbreaking if it was all a convoluted theory. “We need to get inside her office.”
Wilder licks his upper lip, before dropping eye contact with me. “Not until Grady has someone from his family here. His fucking dad hasn’t shown up yet.”
His dad is making him handle everything? He’s Carlotta’s older brother. Even if what I’ve heard is true, that her closeness with the Gibson family made him upset that’s taking a grudge to the next level, isn’t it? “Oh. That’s rotten and fucked up.”
I stop Wilder before he slips back out of the bathroom. “What’s our story?”
He looks at me confused. “What do you mean?”
Really? He’s going to make me spell it out. “If you think I need to act normal, what do I tell everyone about us?” There really is no ‘us,’ but Cal already wants to talk about it. Plus, I need to keep Wilder close. Between his medical episodes which make me worry about him, and so many people thinking he did something horrific, I want to help him figure this out.
He bites his lip, a smile spreading across his face, “I think you should tell Cal that we’re together. That we’re seeing each other.” I’m gonna be honest, I saw this going in a completely different direction.
But I’m not just dating one guy. “I see. Well, now might be a good time to tell you that I’m…” It’s not that I’m embarrassed, but I have to level with him about all of it. “I’m seeing both Cal and Charlie.”
Wilder’s eyes widen, he drops the doorknob. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
Squirming slightly, I notice out of the corner of my eye that Keenan has backed into the corner of the bathroom. “I’m dating both of them. We’re in a relationship. The three of us.”
“Not a fucking chance. No.” He laughs briefly, “Truitt and Gibson? Nope.”
May as well just add the last bit. “... um, and…” Keenan coughs but I can’t look over at him. “So, I… when I went to The Splash.” Keenan swears under his breath. “When I…”
“Oh my God, fucking spit it out,” Wilder says.
“I... well, it was on my bucket list.” Am I sweating? I’m definitely feeling a bit faint. “I hooked up with Grady,” I say the last bit fast. So fast and quietly that at first, I don’t think he heard me.
Keenan says under his breath, “Ohh… well, that’s going to go well.”
For a few seconds Wilder stares at me without an expression on his face. I’m going to need to repeat it and I don’t think I could squeak out another word right now.
Shit. Say something.
His hands rub his cheeks, before he says in disbelief, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. There is no way.”
I stand a little taller. He’s not going to make me feel like what I’ve done is wrong. I’m not going to back down from what I’ve said. I care about each of them. “No, I’m not. Are we going to have a problem over this?”
His smile crooks up on one side as he slowly shakes his head. “You keep surprising me, Remington James. Just full of surprises. A problem? No…” He leans in close to me. I can feel his breath on my temple. “A turn on? Yes.”
All systems check. I’ve lost feeling in my lower extremities, my heart no longer functions properly, my arms can’t decide what they want to do, and fuccckkk… I swear every cell in my body is screaming to touch him. This close to Wilder my breath is robbed from me. He’s just so fucking beautiful.
When Wilder leaves the bathroom, Keenan starts in, “Shuuuuttt up.”
“There’s only one thing I can do.” Not that I’m sad about it. It’ll serve two purposes: keep them close to me hoping to ferret out the liar and I get to explore how I feel about each of them. It’s not going to end well. I know that as sure as I do that I’m going to sketch a picture on my forearm when I find my marker. “I’m going to date them all. All four of them.”
Keenan’s immediate laughter sounds manic, “What?! Bitch, I’m sort of impressed by your dick hoarding skills, but if I didn’t adore you… man, I’d want to stab you.”