5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Remington James
T hat moment before a life altering decision… is that called the ‘oh, shit’ moment? I’m right there. Just smack dab in the middle of it. Between Wilder looking at me like he could wring my neck, Charlie’s concerned frowning, Cal’s simmering anger, and Grady’s grief-stricken face… damnit, what am I doing? I have no doubt Cal was getting ready to hit Wilder when we came around the corner. Now that I have their attention, I’m not sure how to say what I’m thinking.
The timing couldn’t be worse.
Great job, Remi. They’re here in this room together… now what? Having these four men this close to me at once, is scrambling my brains completely.
All my life I’ve wanted to be missed. It sounds dramatic even as I roll the idea around in my mind. Relia would disappear for days before remembering I existed, Skip’s family was fine assuming that my life was alright, my grandparents saw me twice, each time forgetting my name. No passing friend or acquaintance cared enough to stay in touch. No one missed my absence. I’ve never mattered enough to anyone other than myself.
Then I came here to Lake Hollow. My plans to reboot my life felt promising when I connected with Cal and Charlie. This could drive them away from me. Irrevocably.
These four men make that yearning in me to be cherished even missed more acute. I can’t stomach the thought of missing them, but if what I say separates us, I’ll never know if they miss me .
Doesn’t that just beat all you ever stepped in?
I cut all of them off when they start to question why I’ve wrangled them into the prayer room, “There’s a lot of history between all of you. I won’t pretend to understand it, but I’ve heard a few things. It’s wild to me that a discussion about all of this hasn’t happened until now.” I direct my next question at Charlie, “Why do you think Wilder is guilty of… of hurting your sister?”
Charlie leans back against the wall, crossing his arms. “Remi, not hurting… killing. I didn’t think that right away. But once some time passed and he started to act guilty I couldn’t help thinking he killed Katie. I have no idea why… maybe he doesn’t even know why.” As he talks his voice gets more impassioned as he glares Wilder down. “There are too many ‘coincidences’ for any of it to be accidental. He’s the common thread. Not to mention he’s never denied it.”
Cal adds vehemently, “The police couldn’t prove that it was intentional, but they were convinced Wilder played a part in it, too.” He positions himself next to me, reaching for my hand. I take it. It feels natural to hold him. To be at ease in his presence. Is that a mistake?
If I thought Wilder would speak up and deny anything, I would be wrong. He takes a seat in one of the two wooden five feet long pews. Grady runs his hands through his hair as he adds, “... and Wilder told several people about having visions of drownings. That didn’t sit well with anyone.”
“Wilder?” My voice sounds choked. I just want to hear his side of this. What the others don’t know is that Carlotta believed he couldn’t be responsible, she found some sort of proof. Just tell them it wasn’t you. Tell them something. Right now, as he sits in the pew staring at his linked hands resting in his lap… right now he looks guilty. Ashamed, condemned.
Cal squeezes my hand. “He’s not going to speak up because he can’t defend himself.” I didn’t expect him to plead with any of them about their accusations. He’s never struck me as a person who cares much what anyone thinks of him. I did think he’d stand up for himself though.
Shifting slightly, he looks up at me. “Why are we in this room, James?”
It’s the only way, I tell myself. Even if Cal and Charlie get upset, I’ll work to show them my feelings towards them haven’t changed. They haven’t. Carlotta Marlow better have some awfully compelling evidence on any of these three before my heart will even begin to consider the possibility or before I try to let go. Even then…
Since Charlie is already aware, I focus on watching Cal’s reaction, as I begin, “I told you it didn’t matter what happened at The Splash because I didn’t want to tell you that I slept with Grady.” I hear the breath he sucks in, his face flushing. I hurry on, “It just happened that one time… it was a bucket list thing.”
I hear Grady swear to himself. Adding, “Are you serious?” As he sits in the pew behind Wilder. Okay, could’ve kept that to myself. Sometimes I ramble when I don’t know how to approach a topic.
When my stomach is quaking in fear of the outcome.
“Cal?” Charlie comes closer. “Just hear her out.”
With his mouth gaping open, still clinging to my hand, I continue, “I wasn’t prepared for feeling the way I do about him, or Wilder… but I have a connection to all of you.”
That gets him. Looking at me wild eyed, Cal says, “Are you… are you breaking up with us? I thought we were getting serious. It felt like it to me.” I tighten my grip on his hand. “Rem, please don’t do this. Whatever Wilder has told you is complete bullshit. Please don’t do this.”
“No. I’m not… I-I’m just saying that either I explore where things go with all of you or… well… or none of you.” I immediately want to swallow back my words because they each appear shocked.
Cal drops my hand, stepping back. “Is this another experiment to you?” The slight crack to his emotion laden voice brings a lump to my throat. “Sweetheart, I know that you had a fight with Skip. I should’ve gone after you when you left upset. I’d just gotten a call about Carlotta and was leaving to come to the hospital. I think you’re making rash decisions… just… please…”
“We don’t trust him,” Charlie says leaning into me, kissing the side of my head, “for damn good reasons. Hell, Grady doesn’t even believe him.”
Secrets suck ass. I want to blurt out everything. All of Carlotta’s accusations laid bare. Because right now only Wilder and I know. He’s no freaking help at all as he defiantly refuses to look at me, staring at the ripped area of his jeans that his fingers are toying with. The last thing I want is to lose Cal or Charlie, but I’m coming off unhinged right now.
“I didn’t want to have this talk here, right after you’ve all lost Carlotta, but I didn’t know if I’d ever get all of you in one room again…” Say something, Wilder.
Both Cal and Charlie have stayed close to me, as Grady stands back up from the pew letting out a pent-up breath, “I told you I thought you’re demented. I was joking at the time, but now? Now I’m convinced.” My heart teeters on the edge of devastation, waiting to hear whether they’ll all be on board with my decision to be in some sort of relationship with them, knowing I’d never agree to those terms if I was in their shoes.
My day had started so well… then all my relationships exploded.
“If I could make sense of it I would.” It’s all I’ve got right now. Maybe it’s just that flawed DNA of my mom’s just like Skip pointed out. Damaged goods. But so far none of them are fleeing.
But the lack of an answer pricks every carefully buried insecurity I’ve ever had.
Cal clears his throat. “I can’t do that. I refuse to stand by while you get involved with him.” His nasty look at Wilder leaves no doubt who he’s referring to. “I don’t want to lose you… I don’t, but right now I’m losing you either way.”
I start to turn, to make an argument, but Cal walks out. Charlie shakes his head. “I’ll go talk to him. In the meantime, don’t leave the hospital with Wilder. Just give me a chance to talk to Cal. Okay?”
Still silent, Wilder looks up for a beat meeting my eyes. If his visions mean he has some extra sensory perception, he’s lousy at it. In my mind I’m screaming at him to help me. Help me come up with excuses. To keep all of them close. To help us figure out which one of them is the monster. If it’s any of them.
My heart doesn’t want to accept that.
Pondering my life choices, while Grady looks between Wilder and I, I’m tempted to take it all back. But it’s done. I’ve put it all out there-my out-of-control feelings, my fevered impulse to shove them all together again. To poke at wounds that aren’t healed over.
Not the wisest move.
But I’ll own it all the same.
The gospel channel that Ceily listens to can be heard on low volume, while I try to get a grip in the backseat of her whale of a Buick, the general effect is surreal. Pairing the enthusiastic hallelujahs with my general malaise. “... couldn’t even make it to the hospital for his son. That really dills my pickle,” Ceily tells us. She’s been on a rant since we left St. James hospital regarding Grady’s father.
Rain has subsided with the sun peeking out from behind the clouds. I step into a muddy puddle once Ceily has parked in the alley behind her shop with the apartment located above it. The two-year-old in me takes over as I stomp in more puddles instead of avoiding them on the way to the rust spotted heavy storm door. I’m half tempted to lay down in them, when I think about the state of my life.
The absolute chaos I’ve managed to plunk myself down in.
Wilder left the hospital without a word to anyone.
Grady told me to stop by for my guitar lesson this weekend and we’d ‘talk’ but avoided addressing the way I feel.
Charlie and Cal tried to talk me out of it all. Then in a rare show of stubbornness Cal told me that he refuses to let me break up with them because they need to keep me ‘safe.’ To which I told the frustrating hottie that I wasn’t trying to break up with them. Protecting me from whom remains unclear, since they’ve villainized Wilder, but neither seems excited to be around Grady either.
What was I expecting?
I can’t even say, since I’m just grasping that I don’t know any of them well yet. The only one out of all of them that I feel like I know is Charlie. He’s open, our discourse always feels genuine and honest even when discussing tough topics. Cal admits he isn’t good with emotional displays, Wilder has one flag and it’s bright red, Grady is shrouded in a mysterious broodiness. With Charlie, I feel like what I see is what I’m getting. Often reassuring me about Cal’s lack of discussion regarding the past, telling me that he’s always been that way.
Fumbling to tuck my phone away, I notice that Skip hasn’t tried to call or text me. It could be that he knows I rarely pay any attention to it. My heart sinks at the more realistic reason, that he truly doesn’t care where I went after our fight. It’s been hours since he weaponized Relia against me, which is becoming a pattern. It had been the first time he’d leveled me by telling me she’d run off not intending to come back to Florida for me. I could’ve gone the rest of my life not knowing that. No one in my family cares about my wellbeing.
Lying to myself constantly, by saying that it doesn’t matter-their actions make me more capable. Stronger. It only works for so long before the doubt creeps in. Is it me? Something intrinsically wrong with me?
Nineteen years passed of me not mattering the most to anyone . Until Cal and Charlie… now I’m worried that it’s all a lie. That how I feel about them is blinding me. Either way, with Cal I rapidly grew attached to him. He’s said that he can’t imagine life without me. Charlie feels like someone I’ve known forever. He sees me better than I do sometimes. They’ve become carved into my heart.
With some effort, I ignore the six unopened texts from Cal. The emotional rollercoaster I’ve been on needs to grind to a halt, my thoughts are all over the place. I just can’t go around and around about Wilder with him anymore right now.
Keenan puts a survivalist show on to offer his commentary, while I lay down on the sofa across his lap. “Damn, homegirl is really going to try to cut a tree down with a nail file. She’s never making it past this episode. Straight up dumbbell.” He pulls my hair from the knot I had it in, running a hand through to get the snarls out. “How’d the talk with the fab four go?”
Sighing, I roll my eyes. “Super. I confronted them in a damn hospital right after someone important to them passed away. They all should’ve told me to get fucked. I mean… you know what I mean.” My brain is tired of braining right now.
I doze off, waking here and there to Keenan talking about Grady. The way his hair falls in his face all sexy like, his transcendent voice, even the way he tilts his head slightly when he’s listening to someone. He’s not wrong about it… in fact my growing crush on him expanded today even with the accusations in the letter.
Oh my God, the letter. “Ceily?!” I’m wide awake now.
She slowly moves to the entryway of her sitting room stirring the next creation we’ll fear in a big bowl, “Yes, sugar?”
“Do you have keys to Carlotta Marlow’s property management office across the street?” If she does, there’s no reason to let me in. “Uh, I left something there earlier when Alanna and I stopped by.” I don’t like how easy it was to tell a lie now. That’s not something I want to get good at.
She tells me that she should have spare keys somewhere since they had businesses across the street from one another. When she returns carrying a keychain loaded down by keys, I’m pulling my shoes on. Answers. I still don’t know how to avoid Ceily’s questions if I start digging around in front of her, but right now I have a single-minded focus.
Carlotta had reason to believe horrid things about the men I care about. I need to know why.