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My smirk falls. A pattern, huh? Always going away without leaving traces. Shit. “I’m in Madison, man. Need to make sure my little bro’s okay. He’s been through hell, and it’s partly my fault, so…”
“Should’ve just said so, asshole.” He pauses. “You are coming back, aren?
??t you?”
I close my eyes and rub the throbbing spot between my brows. “Sure, sure. How’s everything?”
“Fucking perfect. Peaceful. Know why?” I can hear the grin in his voice. “You’re not here to wreak havoc, that’s why.”
I snort. “Sounds boring, if you ask me.”
James sorta took me in when I arrived to Chicago, after Uncle Jerry’s death. He gave me a job at his café and got my drugs for me. Never questioned what I had to do to keep sane. Never tried to stop me. I owe him big for that. But I’ve never felt close to him. He has his own walls around him and they’re solid titanium; no chinks I can see.
“That chick you’ve been seeing is stalking me,” James grumbles into the phone. “Tell her to go hang out somewhere else.”
“Damn. Tell her to go to hell.”
“You do that, Tyler. It’s your dick she’s after, not mine. It’s you who can’t keep it in his pants. You tell her to fuck off.”
“Yeah, yeah…”
He is silent for a beat. “I’m hiring a guy for now, to replace you. Until you decide if you’re coming back or not. I won’t wait long, got it?”
“Thanks, J.” That’s kinder of him than I expected.
He hangs up and I sigh, putting down the cell. I glance around the bare studio with its stained walls, fake wood floors and sparse, mismatched furniture, and wonder for the thousandth time what the hell I’m doing here. Why I think I can change anything for the better. I guess I never was a bright one.
But I can’t go back just yet.
My hands close into fists. I’ve come this far, I’m not giving up so soon. I’ve quit the pills, and moved here. I’m not leaving before talking to Asher—and seeing Erin one more time.
***
Zane’s job offer rattles inside my head as I climb on my Ducati and rev it up. As jobs go, I could do worse than holding the front desk at Damage Control. I didn’t realize Zane had the power to hire and fire people. Then again, he seemed to look for confirmation from Rafe at some point, which is even weirder. Kid is Asher’s age. Maybe the shop belongs to his family?
Trying to clear my head, I drive around town. Before I realize, I’m heading toward my old neighborhood. Dad’s house.
No, not Dad’s. Jake Devlin’s.
It appears at the end of the street, on the turn, just as I remember it. I’ve made a point of never coming back here, even when I was checking on Asher. I’d pass by his school, instead.
Cutting the engine, I just sit there and look. The garden is overgrown, and the fence is rotten in places. Rotten is a good word for this house and the man who owned it. I can see the window of my bedroom, and I wonder what it looks like now. Is it as I left it? Is it empty?
The lawyer’s message said I have to go through my stuff, see if there is anything I want to keep before the house is sold, but the thought of walking through that door turns my stomach. It’s hard escaping from the memories when I’m far, and I don’t know what will happen once I’m inside those walls—stuck inside the living memory of what happened.
Last time I was here, Mom was alive. I can see her in my memory’s eye, walking down the steps, her long dark hair fluttering in the wind. I loved her, dammit, even when she chose to ignore the way Dad treated me, the way he hurt me. Even when she called me a liar when I confided in her. I know she was sick already and wasn’t telling us. Maybe she didn’t want to believe. Maybe she didn’t have the energy to care.
Then I remember her eyes that night in the basement... Scared. She was finally scared for me, but I was beyond that by then. Dad had lost it completely and then...
Jesus F. Christ.
As I stare at the familiar, hated sight of the house, I realize I’ll have to tell Asher what happened here. If he’s ever to forgive me, he needs to understand my reasons for leaving. To know how Dad held a knife to my throat and threatened all of us if I opened my mouth to tell anyone about it.
And Erin...
No. Not Erin. Can’t tell her. I don’t know what she’d think about me.
Besides, the truth doesn’t guarantee forgiveness. I made mistakes. Hell, I’m a walking mistake myself. I’m only alive due to circumstance. Maybe chance has given me a second shot, and I should fucking use it.
