Page 77 of Crack the Ice

“Right now? It’s a little early to be that…” he trails off, listening to whatever the person on the other end is saying.

I watch as Cade deflates, too. Damn it.

I hold my hand out to him, and he takes it. Pulling him from the room, I don’t stop until I get to the kitchen. “I haven’t seen the backyard yet. Will you show it to me?” I ask, grabbing some bottles of water and a bag of chips that I’m shocked made it through the front door.

“Sure,” he mumbles, walking toward the back. The second he pulls the door open, I almost trip over my own two feet. Other than the pool, he’s somehow made his backyard almost an exact replica of the one we spent so much time in as kids. How?

My eyes trace over the yard, filling with tears as memory after memory floods my brain. Including one that started with him getting a phone call and me hiding in the tree before he could tell me he was leaving, knowing that I couldn’t because my car was at my house and Lana was out of town.

“Are you okay?” Cade asks when I don’t make a move to step through the back door.

I quickly shake my head, clearing those memories from the grasp they had me in. “Yeah, it’s beautiful back here.”

He hums and follows me to the back corner where I sit on the ground against the fence. I pull the bag open, cringing as the plastic makes that awful noise when you pull it open, before holding it out for him.

“He’s going to leave, isn’t he?” he asks, sticking his hand in the bag and pulling out a chip, being overly careful not to look at me.

I would hope not, not with everyone here. But he has in the past, and I’m doing everything I can to trust that things will be different this time. I can’t lie to him, though.

“I don’t know.” I sigh, looking up at the back door to see shadows moving inside.

The shapes move like a dance made to taunt me—will he or won’t he? Will he pick me or pick whoever was on the phone? What about the kids? Clearly they’re used to it, or Cade wouldn’t have asked that. Doubt grabs my ankle, tugging until its grip almost consumes me. The pressure in my chest expands with each moment of uncertainty.

The back door opens, and out step Kait, Lettie, and Lily. For the few seconds the door is open, you can hear my brother’s frustrated growl, and it’s then I know. Day one in this life we were supposed to be rebuilding, and it’s still not me.

Was this entire thing a mistake? Is Markus right? Will I be able to pick up the pieces when he breaks me apart time and time again?

Even more pressing, will I be able to be the glue that holds these kids together when Mav isn’t here?

* little sister

TWENTY-EIGHT

MAVERICK

The phone felt heavy in my hand the second I picked it up, only made a thousand times heavier when I watched Cecy and Cade walk from the room. Both their heads were bowed in front of them, defeated before anything was ever said. They knew what was coming before I did. And fuck me, I’ve never been more aware of my problem.

It isn’t lost on me that I’ve been doing this my entire life, and there’s no doubt the fact that my dad leaving when I was four plays a huge role in that. How can I fix my life at home when I never had an example? How can I be there for Cecy and these kids when the only man who should have been there for me was looking for every excuse to leave the house? We were too much, too loud, too messy, so he’d leave. Is that not what I’m doing now?

I promised it’d be different. I’d be different. I’ve already failed her, and by the way Cade anticipated the same thing she did, it’s clear I’ve failed them too. I don’t know how to be a dad. I don’t know how to be a partner. I know how to fix things. They don’t need fixing, though, and some fucked up part of my brain registers that as them not needing anything.

I know better, and yet, I still got in my car and drove away. Ignoring the seeds of guilt that have bloomed into a full-blown fucking tree, my veins are the roots that help it grow stronger with every beat of my heart. They deserve better. She deserves better.

I slam my door outside the police station. These dumbasses will be skating lines until they can’t stand at practice tomorrow. Someone’s got to teach them a lesson, and it’s going to be me. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, like a freaking record and legs that won’t work for a week.

“Good evening, Mr. Reed.” A female officer greets me inside the doors.

I tip my chin in acknowledgment. “Officer.”

She lets out a chuckle and, in blessed silence, leads me back to what I now know is the drunk tank.

“Cap daddy!” McAllister slurs. He’s got no shirt on. His nipples have been pierced since I saw him last, which was two days ago—fucking hell. My eyes fall closed as I breathe in deeply through my nose.

“What’s the damage, officer?” I ask, looking over my shoulder to where she stands with the cell door open.

“Public intoxication. We found him passed out outside the tattoo parlor.”

A laugh that rivals a hyena tumbles from my teammate. “I got glitter nips like Luddy, Cap!” He emphasizes the point by shaking said glitter nips at me. Give me strength.