I stiffened. I knew what this was about, and I drew in air, prepared to yell at him until I collapsed and went unconscious. But that wasn’t going to help me keep my secret in. I stood, jaw tense. “Where’s my cane?”
There was a second of silence, and then I startled when something cold and aluminum tapped me on the back of the hand.
“Jesus, warn a guy!”
“I—sorry.” He sounded actually apologetic, which was something.
Keeping it close to my body, I led the way into the trainer’s room. It was empty for now, which would be the perfect spot. They liked to keep it soundproof so people could relax through their massages without the dickheads in the locker room distracting them.
But there was always a heaviness to the air when I stepped inside and shut the door. I listened for Alexio’s muted footsteps so I could keep track of him.
“Well?” I demanded.
“You need to do something about your father.”
I blinked rapidly, then burst into laughter.
“I’m being serious!”
“Oh, I fucking know you are. It’s hilarious that you think I don’t already know that.”
“Then why is he still alone? Why is my brother still finding him in his shop? Why is?—”
“I—” I froze. My whole body felt hot, then cold. My throat went tight, and I suddenly wanted to cry. “I’m trying,” I managed to get out. My voice was shaking. “I’m fucking trying, okay? I’m—I didn’t know any of this was happening, my brothers won’t goddamn talk to me, my mother’s in the wind, and he doesn’t even know who I am half the time! I don’t…I don’t know what to do! I’ve made a dozen calls, and every facility that’s even remotely decent is on a twelve-month wait list. This would be easier if I could live with him, but I can’t.”
“Why not?” Alexio pressed. “How hard could it be?”
“Are you serious?” I shook my head and pressed my fingers into my eyes until the prosthetics dug into my sockets. Pain hit me in the temples, and I let go. My anger was mingled with grief mingled with the heavy weight of hopelessness. “I’m not doing this with you, okay? I’m fucking doing everything I can. I’m interviewing in-home caregivers tomorrow, and I’ll…I’ll fix it. But you don’t need to come in here and make me feel like the asshole when you have no idea—noidea?—”
“Jonah?” Tucker’s voice was a balm, which wasn’t what I needed right then because I really was going to cry in front of this dickhead. “What the hell is going on? Do I need to knock this fucker out?”
“I was just leaving.” I heard Alexio sweep past Tucker, then the door shut.
I swallowed heavily. “Fuck.”
Warm arms came around me next, and I lost my composure a little. Luckily, Tucker had a broad chest and was wearing an athletic shirt. It smelled like armpit, but it was absorbent, so I let myself cry for just a second. Just a few tears that had been building up for a while.
“Yo, hey.AmI kicking his ass? I will call Ford and Boden right now. You know they’ll be here in a second. So will Killian. Hell, I’ll call the neighbors, and?—”
“No. No, it’s…fuck.” I swiped my hands down my face, then felt backward until I hit the wall and leaned against it. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I bowed my head. “My dad’s, uh…yeah. So.” I didn’t know how to say this. How did people just talk about shit like this?
“Did he hurt you?”
I couldn’t help a small smile that the first thing Tucker was worried about was me being hurt. God, at the very least, I’d stumbled into a really amazing family. “No.” I gave myself twenty seconds to breathe, and then I opened my mouth. “My mom left him. She left the country. She called me, Micah, and Caleb over and said that Dad has Alzheimer’s—it’s advancing pretty quick. She apparently got him an apartment some months ago and just…dropped him off when she got tired of dealing with him. Then she packed her shit and went to the UK or something.”
Tucker, as predicted, was dead silent for a long moment. Then he let out a long string of swears before asking, “You’re serious, right? This isn’t you and Micah trying to fuck with me again.”
“I would give anything for this to be one of his poor-taste jokes. But no. Micah and Caleb are refusing to help because, well…he was shitty to us our whole lives. But he’s not doing well at all. He’s been wandering around, and he keeps going into this restaurant down the street from where he lives and hanging out there. The guy who owns it is cool.” Because he was. Nikos was cool. Alexio was not. “He’s been helping me kind of keep him occupied. But while we were on the roadie, he fell and got hurt.”
“Shit,” Tucker breathed out.
“Yeah. Nikos—the guy who owns the shop—he stayed with him until I got back, but I’m freaking out. I have no one to stay with him, and I can’t. He would make it hell, Tuck. Like, literal hell.”
“I know.” I heard him move closer, and then he took my hands in his. “I know, bud. That’s not going to happen. Between all of us, we can figure it out.”
I let out a breath. “Sorry I didn’t tell you. The night you, ah—you yelled at me, that was the night I found out.”
“Jesus Christ, dude! Why didn’t you say something?”
