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Chapter 26
Cash
Forthesixthtimetoday, someone leaves my office near tears. I rake my hands over my face, wiping away the sweat from all my stress. I have never been an angry person. I was the guy with the personality, the one who always took time to get to know the quiet ones in the office or at a bar. If someone was by themself in grade school, I’d invite them to our table. It’s what made me a good leader. It’s why Pa chose me for this position.
But I haven’t been that person since Grace left, and I have to own that. I have to find a way not to be a raging asshole every time someone asks me something that I don’t want to answer, or does something wrong that I think they should know how to properly do, or just looks at me.
But I don’t know how. I blow out a breath and walk to the counter, grabbing the whiskey I keep in the decanter, and pull out a crystal glass.
“It’s a little early for that, don’t you think?” Carter asks, furrowing his brow as he stalks into my office. His long legs take only three strides to get to me, where he holds out his hand, waiting for me to give him the bottle.
“Is Chase here today?” I counter.
Carter shakes his head.
“Then I don’t think it’s too early.”
Despite Frank’s search, we still haven’t found Chase. At least Carter is finally back in the office.
“When Chase comes back, I’ll stop drinking. Until then,”—I hold the glass up in a mock salute—“bottoms up.”
The alcohol burns a trail of sorrow and relief down my throat. It’s strange how one thing could bring about such different emotions, but that’s precisely what it does. Relief because it cuts the edge and sorrow because I can’t make it through a day without a glass now.
“You don’t see me drowning my sorrows in alcohol.” He stares down at me like a big brother should, and for once I really want to let him be the adult, let him take control.
But he hasn’t, so I’ve had to.
“Well, last time I checked, your girlfriend wasn’t a lying liar who destroyed everything good in your life and is now pregnant with another man’s child.”
Just saying the words makes me ache for a stronger drink. What I need is to get laid. I need to lose myself in another woman. It’s been weeks since I’ve had sex. Since I’ve burrowed myself inside of someone. But I know it will feel empty after Grace. Just like everything else.
Carter grabs the bottle from my hand and pours a glass for himself and another shot into my own. “Grace is pregnant?”
“Yeah, so please, just shut up with your condescending tone. I lost everything.Everything.” I throw back another shot, sinking into the depression, and massage my forehead.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Cash. I should have been here for you.”
I shake my head. “You have your own shit to worry about. The kid. Tessa. The kid’s mother. What’s going on with that anyway?”
His eyebrows pull together as he shakes his head and takes another sip. “I’m working on it. We have a private investigator searching for them.”
I nod, trying to be the reassuring leader that I used to be. “You’ll find them.”
Carter sits down on the couch, dropping his elbows to his knees, and looks down at the ground. “Cash, it wasn’t Grace,” he says in a low timbre.
I lean against my desk to gauge what he’s saying. “What wasn’t Grace? Pregnant? Oh, I heard it from her lips.”
Carter looks up at me. “You’ve spoken to her?”
A grunt of a laugh leaves my throat. “No. I hid in a closet when I saw her leaving Hayden’s office.” I laugh again. “Can you believe that?”
Carter meets my eyes and shakes his head. Then he drops his head again and places his glass on the ground. Blowing out a breath, he looks up. “It was Tessa. It was my fault, not yours.Mine. I fucked up and trusted someone I shouldn’t have.” He blows out a breath. “I can’t even say that. She didn’t mean to break my trust. Not that it changes things. It blew our fucking world up and you lost Grace. I’m so sorry.”
Not following, I just stare at him, trying to figure out what he means. “Whatwas Tessa?”
“She is the one that talked to Vanessa, the one who spilled the truth about Chase’s mom.Not Grace, it was Tessa.”
I run my hand over my mouth while my other one grips my glass. “But why?”
