Page 144 of Taking Turns

“No,” he says. “You didn’t. And I’m relieved, actually. Now Quin and I can figure it out together. Like we should’ve last summer.”

“Is he talking to you?”

“No.” Bric laughs. “But he will. Eventually. Friendships can endure a lot. Even this, I hope.”

“And Smith?” I ask.

“He’s gonna give you the space you need.”

“Did you order him to do that?”

“I don’t give Smith Baldwin orders, Chella.” He laughs. “It was his idea. And don’t jump to conclusions and think that he wants to walk away. Just take your time and then go find him.”

Chapter Forty-One - Smith

“What’s up?” I ask Bric as he comes into my bar in the Club. I told him—begged him—to go after Chella. I promised him I would not, if he did.

He and Lucinda are still good friends. I’m hoping he has something to tell me and I want to ask him how it went, but I’m afraid. I can’t even look him in the eyes.

“I just got back from Chella’s house.”

I have to look up for this. “And?”

Bric lets out a deep breath. “She’s been seeing Lucinda for seven years.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated. And I don’t know the whole story, but I’m gonna assume it was based on the sexual guilt and sense of shame that her mother instilled in her as a child and growing up.”

I look back down at my hands. “I want to kill that man. I keep hearing Chella’s words in my head. What they did her. What almost happened to her…”

“Lucinda didn’t tell me everything, but she did say this was the final stage in Chella letting go of it. I think that outburst on the street was something of a catharsis.”

I think about our dinner with her father. How she reacted—or didn’t react—to all those nasty things he said. How she just took it, then closed herself off to be sad alone. Then pretended it never happened the next day.

I think about the nightmares and the sleepwalking. How it’s probably all connected.

And then I just… hate myself for not seeing her more clearly.

“We talked,” Bric continues. “She’s feeling better.”

“Does she hate me?” I look up at him again. “For bringing her into this game?”

“No,” he says. “I’m pretty sure it was her idea. Like I said, Lucinda can’t tell me everything. But she hinted that Rochelle and Chella set this up together. First, so Rochelle could leave and have someone take her place. Probably for Quin’s sake. And second, I think this was Chella’s fantasy. I didn’t get the feeling she was coerced. She came on her own. And stayed on her own, too, Smith.”

“I don’t know what to do,” I admit. “I’m always the cool one, you know. The guy in control. The guy with everything figured out. And here I am, so fucking lost. I don’t even have a house,” I say, looking up again.

“What?” Bric asks, his brow furrowed.

“A house. Or a job. I’m playing by all these rules, you know. Rules I just make up whenever things go wrong so I can try to find a logical way past the problem instead of dealing with it.”

“You do good things, Smith. Don’t ever think you don’t.”

But I’m not sure about that. Money, yeah. I have a lot of it. And I give it all away. It felt good for years to do that. To have that kind of power over people. Corporations.

But now it just feels… very self-righteous. Self-indulgent, if I’m being honest.

“I think I’m going about this all wrong,” I say, standing up.