Chapter 8
Silas
Okay, I’ll admit it.
I am the overbearing, helicopter parent I always complained about as a kid. Why else would I send a text to my little sister after she told me on a video call an hour ago that she was fine and to leave her alone until tomorrow?
I guess I owe my mother an apology. She’d probably laugh and tell me she told me so. Or remind me that the stress of raising me is why she jetted off to another country as soon as I moved out.
Silas: You sure you want to stay with Aunt Hannah another night? I can come get you.
Aubs: U r hovering
Silas: Say the word and I’ll be there in five.
Aubs: I’m telling on u
The phone rings within seconds of her last text, Thorn Cason’s name lighting up the screen. I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose as I hit the green button.
“Sorry,” I mumble before he can say anything.
Instead of scolding me for not trusting him to keep Aubrey safe, he lets the big brother figure come forward. “She’s fine, man. Hannah has her messing around with a self-defense dummy, teaching her some protective moves. Kind of scary how vicious that little girl can be.” He chuckles.
“Thanks. I…” Words get stuck in my throat as I realize how dependent on that little girl I’ve become. She may be my responsibility, my kid sister, but she’s given me a reason. The realization knocks the wind out of me.
When I don’t continue, Thorn drops his voice to an almost whisper.
“I know things haven’t been easy for you guys.
You’re struggling with not having eyes on her.
But I have every gate, door, and window locked and my alarm system is the same as yours.
Top of the line. And you know this lump of fur is more protective of Aubrey than she is of me and Hannah combined,” he says, referring to Hannah’s protection dog.
“Think the pilot would let us bring a K-9 on the plane next week without asking questions?”
“If it would give you peace of mind, just say the word. We can figure something out.”
I was somewhat joking…I think.
“But for now, my little niece is having the time of her life with Aunt Hannah. I’ll bring her home at the first sign of distress. Swear it.”
I nod, not that he can see me, but I don’t trust my voice.
“Now, put the phone down and try to rest. Ankle up and ice it whether it hurts or not. I want you at least eighty percent Monday.”
“Yes, sir,” I say on impulse when he slips back into his Coach Cason tone. I hit the end button before slinging the phone onto the counter then let out a frustrated yell. No words, just noise.
I’m the starting center for the Steele Valley Voltage. I have damn near everything I could want or need and have no reason to feel insecure. So, why is it so hard to ask for and accept help from the people who’ve proven time and again they’ll show up?
“Well, that was an interesting conversation to overhear,” says a male voice from the direction of my kitchen table.
“Damn it, Noah,” I shout, hand clutching my chest. “Are you shitting me right now? Why are you in my house?” I pause as my own words register. “How are you in my house?”
That lazy grin most people never see shines through his beard. “You still leave the key under the mat like some nineties grandma. Probably shouldn’t do that. It’d be the first place a crazed fan or reporter would look.”
I swipe the closest dish rag off the counter and sling it at him. “You’re full of it, you know that?” I've never left a key in some easily accessible hiding spot.
“Mmm, nope. I’m empty, actually. Saving room for Mom’s cooking,” he says before cutting me some slack. "Mama gave a spare key to me last time she needed help around the house.”
Maybe I should just install retinal scanners and call it a day.
“Didn’t mean for you to dive into security upgrades right now. You’re already giving Fort Knox a run for its money.”
I lift a brow at him as my hip rests against the sink. “You’re one to talk. Are you allowing Jett to walk the eight hundred feet home alone in the evenings yet?”
He balls up the dish rag and chucks it back at me with a laugh. I dodge it and almost tip over because of my ankle.
“Fair enough.” He laughs. “Get changed. You’re coming to dinner with me.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not having dinner with your sister.”
I'm only slightly remorseful as exasperation takes over his features.
“Look, bud. I’ve kept it quiet this long, but she’s going to find out about Aubrey if she’s hanging around Steele Valley. It may not be as small as Havenwood, but this town talks. Shouldn’t she find out from you?”
Does his logic make sense? Yes. Does that mean I want to agree with him? No.
He moves to the freezer and starts prepping an ice wrap, clearly expecting me to cave. “What happens when she swings by the rink and sees Aubrey hanging out? That little girl won’t think twice about filling Oakley in on the fact that she lives with you now.”
Damn it.
“Hate you,” I mumble half-heartedly.
He pats me on the shoulder. “Love you, too. Now go change. I’ll finish packing this wrap and grab another roll of tape.”
If you don’t have a best friend like Noah, you should find one. As I hobble past him to change out of my gym shorts and tank, I mumble my thanks and “I don’t hate you.”
Once we’re buckled into his truck and he’s backing out of my driveway, I study him from the passenger seat. Noah Slater is a planner. Everything has a place and a purpose. So, it makes me wonder…
“Why are you really here? There has to be more to it than you playing the worried friend card.” I hope his expression will give something away, but he only glances at me briefly before watching the road again.
“You’ve kept our conversations surface-level for months. You’ve been in and out of the courthouse trying to get Aubrey’s custody arrangements and orders of protection finalized—”
“That’s all done now. She’s mine.”
“—and now you’re prepping for what’s expected to be a big season. You have a kid in tow. You flat out refused when my mother offered to watch Aubrey. You have her and me keeping the whole thing quiet around my sister, and let’s face it, she’s your best option for help.”
“Ah. There it is.”
“There what is?” he asks as he turns into Mrs. Slater’s drive a few blocks down from mine. When I bought mine back before the breakup, it seemed practical. Oakley Kate would be near her mother, and we’d each have a short commute to the rink.
Turned out fantastic. Really nailed that one.
“Your motive for coming, for dragging me to dinner tonight. I’m not asking your sister for help, and I wish you guys—because clearly, you’ve talked to either Thorn or Rooks—”
“Both.”
My eyes clench shut as I breathe through the irritation at being micromanaged by my best friends and coach.
I clear my throat before continuing. “Your sister will be here for a few weeks, maybe less, and then she’s gone.
Like always.” Staring at the front porch where I asked Kates on our first date digs the truth in a little deeper.
“She doesn’t want me. I’ve accepted it. Just wish you and the rest of this town would, too. ”
Noah shakes his head as he climbs out, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “You keep thinking that, hotshot.”
I contemplate hiding in the truck, but with my luck, Mrs. Slater would drag me out by the ear while threatening to let someone else do her yard work.
It’s pathetic how whipped Oakley Kate still has me when she doesn’t even live here. Not that I’d change it—or Mrs. Slater’s lawn schedule.