Chapter 28
Dallas
Three days later, and there’s been no word from him. Not that I would be the first to know. My phone died Friday night, and I was too drunk all weekend to charge it until I passed out seven hours ago. Someone plugged it in next to my bed, my alarm waking me for work at six.
What do I do? I’m honestly surprised I haven’t taken off for New Mexico or South Dakota yet—finally free to pursue my own life. I was never useful, and I never gave a shit, but I tried.
I’m not going to save them from this. I think it’s been proven that I fail. Best thing I can do is get out of their way.
People have left me alone, though. No one tried to talk to me this weekend as I crashed at the pub Friday night and spent Saturday and Sunday either at the bar in the Bay or on the beach with a bottle.
What would I do if I were my father?
I’d keep killing myself just to make ends meet.
What if I were my mother?
I’d stay in my room until even that view drove me crazy.
And if I were Macon?
I’d find a way to persevere.
I’m not them, though, and I’m not even ashamed that I want to run. I’ve never had any honor in me, and if I did, what good would it serve? Macon, Army, Liv…they’re all better people, and I never want them to hurt. But there’s just not the love in me like it is in them.
Who knows? Maybe even one of my brothers will be in the ground in the next ten years, too, and I’ll be glad I got out when I could.
I’ve always had the wrong motivations, and I’ve really done it this time. No one trusts me for anything anymore.
And I can’t walk into that school every day and run into him, see him start building a future that begins with a lavish wedding, and stand by while he erases us like none of it was real.
I sit on the stairs in my quiet house, everyone still asleep as I stare at the crack in the red-tiled step below me. Krisjen wouldn’t let Macon fix it. A reminder, she said, of the life that’s been in this house. A testament to the history and our story.
All I see is the same splinter in the clay I stepped on that day when I decided to not go see if my mother was okay.
The first day I really understood that I wasn’t anything like her. I could survive myself.
And that kind of behavior won’t do anyone any good.
Do I care about things? Yeah. I want good things for people who deserve it, and that includes Macon, Liv, Trace, and Iron. And yeah, sure, Army. Maybe leaving would free up some space in the house. He’d be able to breathe easier.
All he ever wanted was a woman, and he gets harder to deal with every year that he’s alone. He thinks he’s going to fall in love just because she’s pretty. Or nice to him. Or will look good in a family picture with their children.
It’s not like that, though. You fall in love with the one person who can turn you inside out, and there’s no control over it.
I feel my phone vibrate in my hand before it rings. Glancing at the screen, I see Anna-Katherine’s name.
I hesitate. Callum wouldn’t use her to get my attention, would he?
I nip the thought in the bud, though. It was thinking like that that caused my mistakes. I’m nothing to him. He probably hasn’t thought about me since Friday other than to laugh and plan how he’s going to spend our money.
Swiping, I tap the speaker. “Hello?”
“Dallas?” she says, sounding excited. “They’re canceling school for the storm this week. Can I still go in today and work on the windows?”
I exhale, thankful she seems unaware of what happened this weekend.
“Yeah.” I nod as if she can see it. “Of course.”
“Will you come?” she asks. “I’m worried about being alone.”
And just like that, everything tenses again. I wasn’t planning on ever walking into that school again. Why is she nervous, though?
Standing up, I descend the rest of the stairs and walk to the kitchen. “Where’s your brother?”
“He’ll be around, but he has meetings.”
Yeah, I’ll bet he does. He has to get his own appraisal for the treasure, talk to lawyers, arrange security…He’s probably already meeting with architects and contractors. He doesn’t need investors anymore if he wants to build a hotel here. He can own it outright.
I fill a travel mug with coffee and screw on the cap.
She’s the only one I need to say goodbye to. My family will understand, and everyone else can go fuck themselves.
“See you soon,” I tell her.
Dex jumps down from his bunk bed upstairs, his daily pounce recognizable, and I grab my leather bag, hooking it over my head. I’m in jeans and a T-shirt, but even if school was in session today, I wouldn’t give a shit.
More feet hit the floors above, and I duck out in the morning sprinkle, combing my hair over the top of my head.
I’ll talk to her, keep the details light so as not to upset or worry her, and tell her she’s free to take anything she wants from the classroom. If it just feels like a bad idea, though—like it’s going to trigger one of her episodes—maybe I’ll just send a text.
Or leave a letter. I won’t know if she ends up hating me, but I don’t want to be responsible for setting her back.
But I’m no sooner cleaning the flyers out of my mailbox in the teachers’ lounge when Father McNealty stops in his tracks when he sees me.
“Mr. Jaeger,” he says.
I stop myself from wincing just in time—but talking to anyone is the last thing I want to do in the brief time I’m here.
“Would you step in, please?”
He gestures to his office and starts walking before I have a chance to come up with an excuse.
Once inside, I set my bag down next to a chair, start to lower myself into a seat, and hear him pick up the phone.
“He’s here,” he says.
I pause mid-squat, knowing who he’s speaking to.
He hangs up, I sit down, and I watch his eyes scale down my attire. The T-shirt probably has old grease stains on it. They all do.
“Are you firing me?” I ask.
It doesn’t matter, I guess. I wasn’t planning on needing recommendations to settle down anywhere else for a while.
Walking around his desk, he leans on the front, locks his hands in front of him, and pinches his brows at me. “Can you tell me why I would?”
“You people never need a reason to take things.”
Yeah, he’s been in my family’s life since we were born, and my father loved him, but he’s not Sanoa Bay and knows which side of the tracks most of his donations come from.
“I’m surprised I was ever hired at all,” I tell him. “Imagine your students finding out that they’re not the center of the universe and learning valuable skills like cooperation and tolerance.”
A smile curls his lips as he looks at me like I’m six and just said something ridiculous but mildly amusing.
“Tolerance.” He nods absently. “And how do you teach that?”
By setting an example. I’m not punching anyone right now, am I?
I don’t say that, though.
The door opens, and I smell the crisp, clean scent without even looking up to see if it’s him. Laying my ankle over the other knee, I tip my chin up as McNealty smiles at Callum and leaves.
“Thank you,” Callum tells him.
The door closes, and long black-clad legs stride in front of me, taking the priest’s spot in front of the desk.
Lifting my gaze, I fix him with a flat stare, trying to resist lingering on all the stuff I like. The blush on his cheeks. The skin on his neck. The deep blue in his eyes, and the fucking lowlights in his hair that he probably got to match the tan on his smooth skin.
The sex was good. Was he really pretending the whole time?
Did you play me?
“I’m glad you calmed over the weekend,” he says.
A glint hits my eyes, and I spot a silver rope chain against his chest, peeking out from his open shirt. My heart starts beating fast, my body flooding with heat; I’m too confused to appreciate how good he looks with it.
I’ve never seen him wear jewelry. I clench my teeth.
Who gave it to him?
“If you attack me,” he says, “it won’t end pretty for you.”
He can see the anger on my face, even if he doesn’t know why.
Whatever. None of this is worth my time, and I’ve certainly been zero help to anyone, so…
“What else can you take?” I retort. “I don’t care about this place. I don’t care about anything. I should’ve left years ago.”
Reaching down, I pull my keys out of my bag and slide the school key and my classroom key off the ring.
I toss them on the desk, and he turns his head, watching them tumble onto the mahogany.
“You’re not fired.” He picks up the keys. “Sophia would have my head.”
His eyes dance as he tosses the keys back at my chest. I catch them, glaring.
He tilts his head to the side. “I’m not trying to drive you out, Dallas.”
Isn’t he trying to drive us all out?
But he continues. “I love having you close. If you leave Sanoa Bay, what would I do with myself?”
He chuckles, and my face falls. So that’s what he wants? To continue to punish me and make me watch him turn our people into his demolition crew.
Realization dawns, and I should’ve known. He doesn’t want the Bay. He wants us under his thumb.
He stands up. “I’m meeting with lawyers today, but nothing has been put into place. For now, your family and community remain on the land.”
“Let me guess,” I hiss. “ ‘Unless I come to your bed tonight.’ Right?”
His mouth widens in a sardonic smile, but he quickly tries to contain it. “Not tonight,” he says. “I have other plans.”
One thing I know about men is that if we’re not getting it one place, we’re getting it another. Does he have a date tonight?
I’m sure he bottomed for him all weekend and more than earned that pricey chain around his neck. The first of many gifts Micah—or whatever the fuck his name is—will bestow on his pretty boy.
Callum leaves, and it takes me all of four seconds to decide I’m staying.
For tonight, anyway.
He’ll be out of the house and the curfew’s over.
—