Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Nick
Everyone was worried about my favorite bastard, and it was starting to be far too much. I was tired of seeing Evie and Matthew spiral, wondering if Austin was going to be okay. And after the scare in the bakery yesterday with Phil, I was over it.
We’d all seen this coming. Like a motherfucking storm brewing.
Matthew said Austin finally hit the burnout wall. For the last two days, the man hadn’t left his house. Today was day three, and I refused to let him wallow. We’d had that magical day of sex, and it was like it had broken him or something.
But now, he wasn’t responding to texts either.
I’d had enough.
Out of everyone in his life, I was confident I was the one who could pull him out of this.
At the end of the day, I could piss him off enough to get him out of bed.
Not that pissing him off was my goal, but .
. . something had to give. Plus, we needed him alive and well to help handle the Phil situation.
We’d reported everything to the police, but they hadn’t been any help.
Nothing had really happened, so they couldn’t take action, even with the threats of stalking.
I pulled into his driveway, stuck between fuming that Austin was being a dick and worrying that he actually wasn’t okay. I just didn’t get him and why he wasn’t asking for help. Why wouldn’t he lean on us?
My phone rattled in my pocket and I groaned, seeing that it was one of my builders. Whatever it was, it could wait.
I got out and went to the front door. I turned the knob, not even surprised to find that it was open. Everyone in Whynot was entirely too trusting about their neighbors, in my opinion, but whatever.
When I stepped inside, my stomach twisted.
It was dark. Quiet. The walls bled with sadness. My chest squeezed as it hit me that I was intruding, but . . . I had to know if he was okay.
It was a mess in here, too. I knew Austin wasn’t normally like this. I decided to grab a trash bag from the kitchen, then crept down the hallway until I came to his bedroom door. I knocked on the frame.
Austin’s head lifted in surprise. “Nick? What the fuck? Who the fuck even let you into my house?”
“No one. Your door was unlocked,” I said.
“So you just walked right in?”
Yes, dumbass, I’ve come to rescue you. I didn’t say that, though. I thought about it. But it wasn’t going to help.
He was trying to sound mean, but it was hard to take him seriously when he’d yet to get up from his bed. His room was a complete mess, and he looked sick. I wanted to give him shit about looking like a sickly Victorian child, but instead, I stooped over and started gathering up pieces of trash.
An uneasy silence settled between us. I felt his eyes on me, following me as I started cleaning up his room.
I half expected the front door to be locked when I reached for it, but it wasn’t.
I kicked off my shoes, locked the door, composed myself, then headed back to his bedroom.
I didn’t really have a plan coming over here. Seeing how worried everyone was about him had alarmed me but seeing it firsthand was different. Had someone even stopped by? Where the fuck was his family? I knew they were busy, but what about Austin?
Evie and Matthew should have been here too.
But it was just me.
Austin was still under the blankets, his expression unreadable. “Why are you here?” he whispered.
I threw myself onto the bed right next to him, and once again, he just let me. So, I kicked back the blankets and got under them, sprawling out.
“You could make fun of me,” Austin said. “That would be better than picking up after me.”
“It wouldn’t be.” I turned over onto my side, staring at the back of his head. “You haven’t punched me yet, so I know something is really wrong.”
“I can’t move,” he murmured.
I sucked in a breath. “Like . . . Should I be calling you an ambulance? Or Matthew? Do you need a doctor?”
“No. It’s not physical. Well, I guess it is. I don’t know. You can go.”
“I’m not going.”
“I don’t want you here.”
“Well no one else is coming right now. You’re stuck with me, Whynot, whether you want me or not.”
His shoulders stiffened. I inched closer to him until his body fit against mine, and slowly slid my arm around his waist. I settled my head on the pillow next to his. “When’s the last time you showered?” I murmured.
“I don’t know.”
“I can wash you off.”
He bucked his hips back angrily, but I didn’t let him go. “You don’t need to be here. Just gloat over my misery and go.”
“I’m not going.” I tightened my hold on him. “What’s going on?” I murmured against his neck.
His entire body stiffened, and he was silent. I didn’t say anything else, but the silence stretched on until one by one, his muscles started to loosen. The softest sniffle came from him, but I just gave him a gentle squeeze.
“I miss my dad,” he whispered.
Fuck. I closed my eyes as my eyes started to burn. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I miss him so much. He had all the answers, and I’ve got none.
He was always loved, and I’ve tried to be like him.
I’ve tried to take care of folks like he did but all I do is fuck up and it hurts.
It hurts. It hurts.” His voice ebbed into the softest whisper.
“And I don’t know what happened. Couple days ago I woke up and I couldn’t get out of bed.
I couldn’t make myself move. I’ve been in bed, to the bathroom, and to the front door to retrieve food and that’s about it.
My muscles won’t work. I keep falling asleep.
I have so many missed calls and emails and they keep piling up.
And I hate . . . I hate myself. I hate my life.
I hate how everything keeps unraveling no matter how hard I try to keep it together, and I’m just .
. . I’m tired. And I hurt. And I’m alone. ”
I pressed my lips against his shoulder. He went rigid, then sighed.
“You’re burned out,” I said. “That’s what it feels like. And it sounds like you never let yourself grieve your dad.”
“I have, though. I went to his funeral. The last few years, we’ve gone to his grave and talked about him. Shared memories. The anniversary of his death is coming up next month.”
“Did you share any memories, or did everyone else do the talking?”
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
“When was the last time you let someone see you like this?” I asked.
“Never. I can’t. I hate that you’re even here right now.”
“I bet.” I bit his shoulder and he sucked in a breath, but it got a reaction out of him.
He rolled over to face me, his brows drawing together.
I smiled, but then it slowly faded. We were nose to nose, and I could see flecks of gold in his dark brown eyes.
And the sadness. So much sadness. “Tell me about him. I only remember him as the guy who chased me through town after egging Mr. Myers house on Halloween.”
A broken laugh bubbled up, and his expression creased with pain. “God. That feels like ages ago.”
“It was. We’re old now. Tell me a memory.”
“We’re not that fucking old.” Some of the color was starting to come back to his cheeks.
“When I was like eight, I accidentally stole a newspaper. I wanted to give him one since he read it every morning, and I brought it home. And when I gave it to him, he asked how I paid for it, and I realized I’d stolen it.
I started crying.” Tears rolled down his cheeks, but he chuckled.
“I was a mess. I thought I was going to go to jail or something, but he calmed me down. And I remember it because he ended up holding me. It’d been a long time since he’d held me like he did Dallas or Avery.
I was getting too big for it. I think I was jealous of my siblings, honestly. ”
I gently grabbed his face. “That is a terrible fucking memory, Austin. Try again.”
“It was good,” he protested.
“No, that’s sad. Try again.”
“Okay. Well, there was the time he was really proud of me for getting an award at school.”
I winced. “Try again?”
He huffed out a breath. “I don’t know. There’s so many, I just can’t think of any.”
“Hmm.” I bumped his forehead with mine. “You’re a fucking disaster, Whynot.”
“I know.” He sniffled again. “I wish I wasn’t. I’m trying not to be for Evie and Matthew and . . . and you. I’m trying.”
Fuck. I’d meant that to be playful, not taken seriously. I sighed and sat up slightly, pulling his head against my chest. “Just fucking cry already, you wet napkin.”
He sucked in a shaky breath, but then finally, he gave in.
A broken sob left him, and god, it tore me up.
I teared up as I held him—the man that’d been my rival since high school, the person I’d fought with countless times—while he broke apart.
And somehow, feeling him shake in my arms hurt more than a punch landing against my jaw.
My muscles burned as I tightened my hold on him, never letting up. His fingers gripped my shirt, twisting as he started to breathe harder.
“It’s not okay,” I whispered. “And that’s okay. Okay?”
All he did was nod as he cried harder. I rubbed the back of his head and closed my eyes, breathing in his scent.
He was so stubborn. I used to give him so much shit about it.
Always had a damn stick up his ass. Rule follower.
Always had to be perfect. But life wasn’t perfect, and it always found a way to shatter those who clung to the idealistic world.
My rose-colored glasses were broken early on, but not his. I hated him so much for that, too.
I didn’t hate him now, though. Not as much as I should. Maybe not at all. Definitely not at all.
“I’m so-rry.” His voice broke, as he suddenly tried to pull away. “I’m sorry. When I started dating Evie and Matthew, I was so scared I wouldn’t be enough. That I’m too broken right now. And you—I-I don’t know what to do with you. You don’t have to be here. I—”
“I’m not letting go of you. So either suck it up and let me hold you, or die trying to escape me. You’re weaker than a fucking kitten right now.”