CRAIG
CRAIG
I park Roxy up on the grassy verge at the side of the road a little before the turn-in to the farmhouse. Continuing around to the driveway and across it on foot to the shed, I pray that no one has thought to check and lock up. My backpack weighs heavily on my shoulders and clanks too loud for my liking with every step.
The hour is unsociably late—or early, depending on perspective—and as I pass by, I see no lights in any of the house's windows. Nor do I see Judy's car, and I idly wonder if Sebastian is staying out tonight with Brianna.
Reaching the shed, a sigh of relief escapes me to find the padlock on the doors still hanging loose. I step inside, pull the cord for the naked bulb hanging from the rafters, and drop my bag to my feet with a thud when the dim light exposes everything to be exactly how I left it a couple of hours ago.
I've had a worthwhile trip to the Pit. Scotty came through for me on the parts I asked him to source. And now, I find I just can't bear the thought of holding out until tomorrow afternoon to fit them, to see if I've called it right.
After enduring an unsettling interrogation, some ribbing, and a great deal of bartering to keep my car out of the exchange, I'm six-ton in on this project. I daresay Sebastian would disapprove of the investment, but I don't intend on telling him. If I can pull this off and get his damn truck running, it'll be money well spent just to see the scepticism flayed from his sanctimonious face. There's not a chance in hell I'm willing to admit defeat on this.
I take off my jacket, hang it on a peg inside the doors, and retrieve the overalls I left dumped on the Ranger's bonnet. Slipping them on over my jeans and shirt, I cross back to my bag.
"Craig?" Judy's voice whips me up from my crouch with dizzying abruptness, my heart left behind down by my feet. "I thought you'd left hours ago. It's three in the morning."
"Oh." I turn to find her frowning at me, wrapped in her red nightgown, feet shoved into a pair of unlaced black boots. "I, uh, just forgot something. Did I wake you?"
The pinch to her brow softens in the warmth of a smile. "No," she shakes her head. "Working nights has my sleeping pattern all out of whack. I was about to make myself some cocoa when I saw the light come on out here. Care to join me for a mug?"
"Uh…"
"Please? I'd appreciate the company."
I want to say no. "Sure."
Beaming, she pushes one of the doors open wide and steps out, holding it for me. The overalls have yet to even warm to my body heat when they're shirked back off, discarded on the floor. I dart one last look at the truck before I turn off the light and pass by her into the bitter night air.
And I immediately stiffen as Judy takes hold of my arm. "This isn't your way of detaining me until the police arrive, is it?"
Her laugh chimes a melodic chord over the sound of gravel skittering around our tread. "Sebastian invited you, did he not?"
"I guess, but —"
"There's little enough here worth stealing, on any count."
It's not without effort that I refrain from dislodging her touch. "I don't think he intended to give me the freedom to come and go as I please."
She bows her head in acknowledgement but says nothing more until we're approaching the back door. Then, "Sebastian has inherited quite a burden for one so young." Halting to extract the key from her gown pocket, hand releasing my arm, her face lifts to me. "His uncle's passing was by no means sudden. But the responsibility left to him alongside that loss, it was more than anyone could be expected to prepare for." I can only gape as she unlocks the door and opens it for us. "The boy is proud, and he's stubborn, and Lord knows, he makes me worry. He accepts very little help, and that he's letting you do this for him, Craig, it's no small thing."
Several beats pass in which I cannot, for the life of me, get my feet to follow after her as she steps through into the kitchen.
Turning back to me, she flashes another of her sunny smiles. "You're letting all the heat out. Come now."
It's at the appearance of Dobby to investigate and Judy's lunge for his collar as he darts past her legs that I finally rouse myself. "You mean… this place…?"
The dog does not take well to being restricted, growling and struggling. It's a side I've never seen of him before, and it's a little alarming. He's not set free until the door has been closed behind me, and with a huffed snort, he immediately retreats to his bed beneath the bench, turning his back on us.
"The farm has been in Sebastian's family for five generations," Judy nods, shaking out her hand as she straightens. "It was always going to be his, just not so soon."
I cross to the kitchen table and drop down onto the nearest chair. "What happened to his uncle?" I don't realise how tactlessly invasive these words sound until they are already out of my mouth.
But she doesn't seem to take offence. "Kye had a brain tumour," she answers, moving away toward the fridge. "He lived with it for many years before it took him."
"I'm, uh… damn, that's..."
"Yes." Taking out the milk, she carries it over to the stove and unhooks a saucepan from the rack above. "He was a great man. He made a positive difference in countless young lives. Not a day goes by he's not missed, but I'm blessed for every single second I got to share with him and for the family he gave me."
A thick silence settles as the milk warms on the hob. Judy hunts out the cocoa powder from a cupboard, stirring heaped teaspoons into the pan, and sets two mugs out on the bench. I watch, for lack of knowing what else to do.
Five minutes later, she's placing the hot chocolate on the table in front of me and settling herself in the chair opposite. "So, how's it going?"
"What?"
"The truck," she elaborates with a soft chuckle. "How are you getting on with it?"
"Oh." I draw one of the mugs in closer. "Good. I think."
"You think it's salvageable, then?"
"There's hope." Now.
My answer pleases her. "Indeed, there should always be hope, Craig, no matter how broken something seems."
A mouthful of cocoa saves me from giving anything more than a nod. The drink is perfectly heated, a deliciously soothing warmth.
But Judy's assessing gaze keeps me on edge as she lifts the other mug to her mouth and blows into it. "I can see why Ashleigh's so taken with you."
I splutter, choking.
"And I can also see that I make you uncomfortable."
Coughing into my hand, my head shakes.
"It's okay," she goes on, getting up and leaving the table. "I'm not trying to kill you off for it, promise." I hear her running the tap, shutting it off, and then returning. "Here."
After taking a sip from the glass of water she offers me, I recover enough to say, "Thanks."
She settles back into her chair. "Ashleigh is an excellent judge of character, you know? And Sebastian is a hard nut to crack. They're the two most important people in my world, and because they've both deemed you worthy of space in their lives, I feel I should grant you an insight into mine."
Objection immediately crowds my mind. I press my lips tight, not daring to interrupt.
"My history is no secret, not in this town, and I'm sure you've heard something of it, yes? But you'd be sorely mistaken to believe it so simple as a boy who decided he'd grow up to be a woman." She pauses for a drink, and I drop my focus to the tabletop. "No, there wasn't ever a time I considered the body I'd been born into as the one I was meant to have.
“I pretended, though. Wasted the whole of my youth playing the role expected of me in a bid to escape notice, to avoid detection, because what else could I do? Already, I was one of only four black kids in the whole school.
“Then puberty hit, and that" —another pause; a deep breath — "that was torture. It's a tough time for everyone, I know. But the changes in me were wrong, oh so very wrong, and I felt betrayed beyond anything I could endure.
"I've fought through a great deal of pain and isolation, years of shame and utter hopelessness, to reach this point you've now met me, Craig. The point at which I've found peace in a body tailored to a better fit, strengthened by the support of loved ones who accept me for the person I —"
"You don't need to explain yourself to me." The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.
"True," she concedes, easily adjusting to my outburst. "I don't. Except progress cannot be made without understanding."
"I'm pretty much uncomfortable with everyone."
"You're certainly quite defensive, yes."
My chair screeches back across the tiled floor. "I should, uh, I should probably," I gesture vaguely toward the door at my back as I stand, "go."
Judy makes no move to oppose me, only leans back and nestles her mug to her chest. "I sense you have a good heart, Craig, and I trust my kids. I hope you'll come to take me for who I am, as I am, not for what others might have you believe."
I fail to register Dobby's sudden perkiness as a warning, and when the back door is swung wide to a draught of biting wind, I almost topple the chair beneath me.
"Aunt," Sebastian says, stepping in around the giddy dog circling him. "Craig."
I detect no surprise in his reaction to me being here, so I can only assume he must have spotted Roxy on his way in. "Hey."
"Am I interrupting something here?" His eyes flick between the two of us. The door remains open at his back, but Dobby shows no interest in racing out to freedom this time.
"No, no," Judy replies pleasantly. "We were just chatting. How was your date?"
"Eventful." He pins me with the total weight of his attention. "Can I have a word, please?"
That he's asking nicely makes me wary. I glance at Judy, and she shrugs, her smile placid. "Actually, I was —"
"Just leaving? Of course, you were. That's fine. I'll walk you out."
The ushering sweep of his hand is not encouraging. "What about?"
"Let's walk and talk."
"Can it not wait until tomorrow? I'd like at least a couple hours' sleep before college."
"It's you that's wasting time here. Come on."
Judy sighs as she pushes to her feet. "Thank you for the company, Craig," she says, collecting her empty mug and my barely touched one from the table. "I'll be leaving you boys to it now, I think."
I flash a quick smile, and Sebastian wishes her goodnight as she cuts across us to the sink. "Your stuff's in the shed, yeah?" He blinks back at me. "You can give me an update on my truck."
Shit is my immediate thought. Because if Roxy clued him in on me still being here, then there's a good chance he checked the shed before coming to the house. And if he'd decided to have a nosy in my bag while there, then this could very well be about his pride wanting to rip me a new one.
He's giving me no choice but to pass by him to get out. Unless I want to make this into a bigger thing than it needs to be and head for the front door. "Nothing much to report," I hedge with a shrug. "It's in much the same state as yesterday."
"You've been here hours. There must be some progress."
"I've already locked the front," Judy says, disappearing into the hallway.
And whatever my face is giving away has Sebastian's smirk pricking obnoxiously. "Okay, thanks. I'll see to everything else when I come back in."
He steps outside, Dobby in tow, and I hesitate for another pointless moment before following.
Closing the door behind me, I shove my hands in my jeans pockets, fix my stare on my Vans, and set a brisk pace. Sebastian's long strides easily keep him abreast of me, and yet, despite his insistence, he doesn't seem in any rush to start talking.
We're most of the way across the farmyard when he finally speaks up, and I startle. "You asked me once what my issue was with Derek, remember?"
"And you told me to mind my own," I nod, frowning at the abruptly slowed momentum of my feet.
My skin prickles at the inscrutable brush of his gaze. "That's right."
Dobby races to and fro across the shrinking distance between us and the shed as if urging us to resume our haste. The predawn chill nips at my ears. Sebastian turns away, looking out across the fields toward the distant inky fringe of woodland.
"I made the stupid mistake," he says, blinking back to me, "of falling for him. And he burned me."
Well, that’s...
That's a curveball.
"What?"
"To him, I was only ever another of his flings. He made no secret of that, in fairness. Still, I fooled myself into believing we could be something more."
We've reached the shed, and now I'm frozen, staring blankly at the wooden door, my hand fisted around its unlocked latch. "You… But Brianna. She's —"
"Yes, Brianna is a she."
"She's your girlfriend," I finish over him.
"I'm aware. She wasn't then, though."
"So, what? You're not…?"
"A cheat?" He purposefully derails me again, moving in beside me a little too close for comfort. "No. I am also not straight."
I shake my head and yank open the shed doors, stepping inside to recover some space between us. Dobby is quick to follow me in, but Sebastian lingers where I left him outside. My jaw is clenched painfully tight when I whirl back around on him. "You're shitting me, right?"
He stands at the entrance, his arms folded across his chest, cutting an intimidating figure against the night sky. "I'm bi, Craig. That means I bat for both teams. Not that I'll hit anything with a pulse."
"What. The fuck, Bas?"
"Relax. I can promise you, you're completely safe."
"Why? Why would you feel the need to tell me this?"
"It's not a secret," he shrugs.
And hell! I'm so done with hearing that shit from this fucked up family. "Doesn't mean that everybody needs to be told!"
"Believe me, I'm not in the habit of spilling my personal business without reason. But you asked me about Derek, and I'm giving you an answer."
"'Mind your own' was answer enough."
"Sure, I thought so too. Until I spent time with Derek tonight."
"And now, what? You need someone to talk to about him. That it?" I put my back to him, bending to retrieve my bag from the floor. Its weight feels vastly heavier than it did before. "Because I can tell you now that someone ain't me."
"He was there with Lyndsay," he goes on regardless as I straighten and start toward my coat. "And Mikey." His watchful gaze tracks me. "And I met Mikey's boyfriend."
Between one heartbeat and the next, my entire body locks up.
His advance on me has my pulse racing. "Tate."
I daren't even breathe for fear of betraying myself.
"Listen, Craig." His tone is soft and unsettling. "I get it, okay?" He puts himself directly in front of me. "You're unsure. You're not ready to —"
"No." It's the shock of his hand on my bicep that jolts me back to my senses. "You listen, Bas. You don't get it. You don't get anything." Shirking off his touch and shoving past him, I grab my coat from the back of the door. "What is it with you lot, huh? And your incessant sharing-caring bullshit? Constantly going on like there's nothing that slides by you. Like you've got every damn thing sussed!"
"Just, please, hear me —"
"I'm not a fucking puzzle, okay? And I really, really don't appreciate you making out like you've got all the pieces to solve me!"