CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ROBBIE
It’sfive minutes before my “date,” and I’m standing in the middle of my living room, surrounded by Home Store n’ More’s entire stock of flameless candles, when it occurs to me that I might have completely lost it.
I know Ames.
I know when he’s scared, he builds walls.
I know the more someone pushes against them, the harder he reinforces them because hehatesbeing told what to do.
And I really meant it when I said I’d be patient and wait for him to take down those walls in his own time.
But I’ve learned a lot about myself these past couple of weeks. I’m still an easygoing guy about most things and probably always will be, but I’m not okay with letting other people tell me what I should want or do. Not even the people I love best, like Ames.
So when Ames stood in my kitchen this morning and basically told me I should date other people, I wanted to shake him.
Instead… I downloaded a dating app. To “explore my options,” just like Ames said. And watched his deep blue eyes go wide with panic when I mentioned my plans tonight.
But now that it’s 6:55—almost time for my “date”—I’m not sure I’ve played this the right way.
I’m not feeling easygoing. About anything.
When my phone rings, I consider ignoring it. If it’s Ames, I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold back from telling him it was all a mistake.
But then I check the display and see Kaylee’s name.
My niece is sixteen, which means shenevermakes phone calls if she can help it. I answer immediately.
“Kaylee? What’s up?”
“Uncle Robbie, can you help?” Her voice shakes. “D-dad’s here. At Mom’s house. He’s drunk. He’s outside yelling that he wants Mom to give him the keys to her car or something? A-and he keeps trying to get in the back door and the windows. He…” She takes a breath. “He said he has a… a gun.”
I started moving the second her panicked voice came down the line—grabbing my keys, heading for the door—but when she saysgun, it’s like someone wraps a cold fist around my lungs and squeezes the breath out of me. I stagger to a stop, one hand on the wall, the other clutching the phone.
Jesus fuck.
IknowMike. At least, I thought I did. I know he’s selfish. Reckless. Irresponsible. I’ve seen him lie, cheat, manipulate. I remember the bar fights and how volatile he’d get when he was drinking. I remember the story about the knife.
Butthis? Threatening his family? Threateningmyfucking family?
My throat goes tight, and I feel like I might vomit. It’s like the decent, down-on-his-luck brother I spent all those years excusing and keeping a place in my heart for isn’t just lost to me… he never fucking existed.
I clear my throat. “Kaylee, sweetheart, did you call the police?”
“No. Mom said to call them, but…” She lets out a choked-off sob. “It’s mydad, Robbie. He’s having a tough time now, but family takes care of family, right? That’s what you say. And if I call the police, he’ll get in trouble?—”
Yeah, Ihavesaid that. I’ve made excuses for Mike her whole life, letting her believe that loving your family means it’s okay to let them hurt you.
“Kaylee.” The word is tense and hoarse with fear. “Listen to me. Hang up and call 9-1-1right now. That way, they can stay on the line with you while I drive over there.”
“But—”
“Now, Kaylee,” I repeat, trying to keep from yelling. “I’m going to call too. Family should never make you feel unsafe. Understand? No one who loves you wants you to choose their comfort over your safety.”
“O-okay. Uncle Robbie, please hurry.” She sobs again, but it gets cut off when she disconnects.
I dart a pained glance around my living room. The candles, the flowers, the whole… carefully orchestrated, possibly stupid evening will have to wait.
