After such an incredible night, this certainly wasn’t how Holt had seen the day going. Too bad there wasn’t a reset button.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Rafe?”
Rex followed the wraparound porch to the back of the house where he’d seen his brother run to. When he saw him sitting on the rickety gardening stool that used to belong to their mother, Rex paused. The last time he remembered seeing his brother on that stool, Rafe had probably been eight or nine, and he’d been helping their mother plant the tulips she was constantly replacing. Rafe had been happy back then. Carefree and wild. A far cry from the man Rex knew today.
To say he’d been surprised when Rafe came storming through the house looking for Bailey would’ve been an understatement. Yeah, Rex had been shocked, but he’d always figured there would one day be a powerful enough motivator to break through some of his brother’s fears. It appeared Bailey Weber was that motivator.
But his brother’s reaction when he realized where he was hadn’t been one of someone who’d merely been rebellious and ornery about the place. Rex hadn’t realized until then that the horrors Rafe had faced were much darker than he’d suspected.
“Wanna talk about it?” Rex asked as he moved closer.
“What’s there to talk about? I’m fucked up.” His words were muffled because he was bent at the waist, breathing rapidly.
“No more fucked up than the rest of us.”
Rafe lifted his head. He was pale, and his breaths were still shallow and fast. “I hate this shit.”
“What? The panic attacks?”
Rafe frowned. “What do you know about panic attacks?”
Rex hooked his thumb on his pocket and leaned against the porch railing. “I know I’ve had them. Not so much anymore, but they still sneak up on me now and then.”
“Why?”
Rex shrugged. “No idea. I’ve never figured out the pattern.”
“Me, neither.”
“I think it’s safe to say there’s no pattern,” Rex decided. “And here I was thinkin’ I’d done a damn good job makin’ this place over. I didn’t think there was a hint of the past in there anymore.”
“There’s not,” Rafe said. “Not that I saw, anyway.”
Well, that was a ray of light on an otherwise cloudy day. Rex truly wanted to believe his brother could one day come back, and that meant eliminating the triggers. Evidently, he’d missed something.
“Somethin’ triggered you.”
Rafe slowly pushed to his feet, standing straight. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I was talkin’ to Holt about …thingswhen you called.”
“Things? Like what happened after Mama died?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m glad you’ve got someone to talk to. Did it help?”
Rafe shrugged. “Maybe.”
Rex tucked his hands in his pockets and shifted his feet. “I know you might not wanna hear this, but you could go see Piper. I’ve gone to see her a few times. It helps.”
Piper Briggs was one of their many cousins on their mother’s side. She also happened to have a psychiatric practice here in Coyote Ridge. And while Rex wouldn’t go bragging through town that he was under the care of a shrink, he figured it didn’t hurt to open up to his brother about it.
Rafe stared at him like he had tentacles growing from his upper lip.
“What? I have. She—”
“I’m sorry, Rex.”
