The shoe’s on the other foot for once, and I don’t hate it. Well, I hate that Chase isn’t doing well, but being the person who can take care of him is sort of amazing. He pieced me back together more times than I could count—made sure I was eating when I couldn’t and wiped the tears from my face without any hesitation. It’s not like him to ever appear like he doesn’t have it all together. He’s so careful with his compartmentalization that no one hardly ever sees him falter. But I’ve seen what’s behind the curtain, the insecurities he doesn’t talk about and what he holds back from people.
Safe to say, I adore him. Each little imperfection makes me fall more hopelessly head over heels. This is the kind of thing you can’t come back from, a life-altering event that changes you forever whether it works out or not.
He’s completely knocked out on top of me. Dead weight pins me to the bed in the best way, and while I have plenty of readingto do, it’s hard to do anything else except stare at him and revel in how grateful I am that I’m here for this moment. I almost wasn’t. Just the thought makes my heart sink. He needs me; I’m not just some charity case to him that he’s taking on because he loves my brother. I understand him in a way that no one else does, because he doesn’t let them. It’s a mind-fuck, wondering how I ended up being important to someone like him. But I am, and I can’t let him down again. Can’t betray the trust he’s given me, because I know he’ll clam up worse than ever if I do.
Precious thing, isn’t it? Meaning something to someone special to you?
“Here goes nothing,” I whisper to myself, unlocking the tablet to the pages Brady bookmarked for me.
Something about this feels way overdue on a personal level. I’m not stupid, I know that I’ve clearly got a lot of mental health issues going on. But I’ve never taken a deeper look, gone beneath the surface level. Where I grew up, being depressed meant you weren’t praying hard enough.Give your problems to God,or whatever they said. People said stuff, like,yeah,I had some depression after my last baby was born, like it was a serving of pie. Talked about it like it was a one and done thing, and a shameful part of their past. A low point that has never been stooped to again. But it was never like that for me, so it was more than I could make sense of at the time. I still don’t know what it means as a condition, how to deal with it on a long-term basis. Or even if that’s what I have, to be honest. There’s so much out there, and I’ve got to start somewhere.
Brady told me earlier that he found some of these when trying to understand me better, which hurts as much as it is sweet. I don’t like the idea that there’s something about me to understand, something that’s not normal. But in all fairness, there’s no one who deserves answers about me quite like my brother, so I understand why he started to look.
It just sucks to be the center of something beyond my understanding, but know that it’s negatively affecting the people I love.
The more I read, the more of this sounds familiar. Not everything, though, which kinda bums me out. Then Chase burrows a little deeper into me. Still sound asleep, but like he can’t get close enough, and I decide to keep going. Get through another paragraph, scroll a little further. He needs me to do this, even if he’ll never say it. It doesn’t seem like enough, but it’s not nothing either. I’ve got to start somewhere, right?
My brain worm practically purrs in satisfaction at my efforts. That damn thing would be the first thing to let me know if I wasn’t in the right place, but I am. I’ve never been good at accepting compliments on my work because it feels like it comes from somewhere else. Like the brain worm is the one pulling the strings and I’m just the flesh that it controls. My head gets a little hazy, and when I come to, there’s something cool staring back at me. But at no time does it feel like something I did. I live in service to that annoying little worm that has a direct line to my left hand, and for today, he says I did well enough to curl up with my hopefully-still boyfriend and get some much-needed sleep. So that’s exactly what I do.
CHAPTER 13
EASTON
“You want me to file charges?” I ask for probably the tenth time.
Blakely props her head on her hands and smiles sympathetically. “Yeah, babes. I think it’s our best option.”
Chase interjects, also for the tenth time, “But you don’t have to.”
I eye him carefully, trying to gauge where this hesitation is coming from. Does he think this is dangerous? Does he think I can’t do it? “I’ll do it,” I decide.
Chase’s eyes widen as Blakely breathes a sigh of relief. “Are you sure?”
Blake stands and brushes past me with a soft hand on my shoulder. “I’ll let you guys talk for a minute. I need to go change into people clothes, anyway.”
When she’s gone, Chase looks more uneasy. Before I decide to do it, my thumb is smoothing out the lines in his brow. “I’ll be okay.”
“How do you know?”
My hand falls to my lap, task completed, and I shrug. “Because I have to believe that. You and I need this to be over. If Blake says this is the way to do it, then I’ll try anything. There’snothing in the world I wouldn’t do so we can have a real shot at normal.” He needs to hear this, I think. If it doesn’t help, then at least I won’t have any cards left. “I want it all with you, Chase. For as long as you’ll keep me. If this is what it takes, then so be it.”
That little spark of hope that flares up in his gaze was so worth the risk. God, how do I fan those flames? My love is still in here somewhere. I’ve just got to wait for him to venture back out.
“You ready, lovebug?” Blake asks, scaring both of us within an inch of our lives.
Chase glare is something fierce. “Jesus fuck, Blake. The day you stop moving on cat feet is the day my life expectancy goes up five years.”
She snickers. “There’s no hope for you if you can’t hear me coming in heels, I fear.”
Looking her up and down makes me cringe internally. “Damn. Should I change?” Walking next to her is going to make me look like a charity project. I was just happy to have my clothes back. I was not prepared for all this.
She only smiles, because she’s the nicest person ever which makes me hate her the tiniest bit. “No, of course not. You look great.”
Ugh. Now it’s worse that even I can tell she means it. Yeah, I’m sure me and my band shirt look fantastic compared to Miss Cute Boots and a skirt that makes her legs look a million miles long, with the perfect shade of blue sweater to make her eyes pop.
Oh fucking well. “Let’s get this over with,” I mutter. When we’re in the car, I close my eyes and try to remember the why of this. For Chase. So we have a chance. “Remind me why you trust this guy?”
She hums. “I got his son through college, essentially. He offered me top dollar to be his private tutor because Isaac forgotto sign up for one before the slots had filled up when we were freshman. He’s a good guy, but definitely had his fair share of growing up to do. His dad was very appreciative of me for sticking with him for four years. I’ve vaguely stayed in touch with both of them; you never know when you’ll need to know the chief of police. Isaac used to have me come over to his house occasionally for our sessions, and I still try to stop by if they’re hosting something or other. Charlie, his dad, is the best cop I’ve ever met. A very down to earth, compassionate guy.”
