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“More than Maddox West?” My brow quirked, and he snorted.
“Maddox knows to keep his hands off.”
“You know she was at his place last night.”
“I know. But she said nothing happened.”
“I don’t know how you do it,” I said, gripping the wheel a little tighter as the car rumbled to life beneath us. “Worry about her and your mom.”
I could barely handle looking after Grams, let alone a sister. But Kye didn’t complain. Sure, he liked to get high occasionally or fuck away his problems. But he always did it with a smile and some lame ass joke.
“Hey, we all got shit to deal with, Z. It is what it is.” He stared out of the window, watching Chloe burst out of the door and jog toward us.
“Yeah,” I said. “You’re not wrong there.”
All you could do was try to survive too.
And hope it didn’t drag you down with it.
* * *
“Grams, I’m home,” I called the second I slipped into the trailer.
“I’ll be right out.”
I made a beeline for the refrigerator, helping myself to a carton of juice. Today had dragged. Practice was a shitshow. Nix and Darius got into it, twice. Kye was barely awake. And Coach Farringdon was like a bear with a sore head. Needless to say, we spent more time running suicides than we did actually practicing. My quads ached, my calves burned, and my mood was in the gutter. But I knew better than to complain to Grams.
Chugging down the juice, I surveyed the papers scattered on the table. It was usually a stack of bills that needed paying. But one letter snagged my attention. It was from the medical insurance company. I went to lift it off the pile when Grams shuffled into the room on her walking stick.
“Don’t be worrying yourself with all that,” she said, snatching it away from me. “Just another pointless letter. Waste of paper if you ask me. How was your day?”
“Same old.”
“School is important, you know, Zane. If you don’t graduate—”
“I’ll graduate. Don’t you worry about me, Grams.” Ducking my head, I kissed her cheek. “What time do you want to leave?”
She had her new support group tonight.
“Are you sure we can borrow Nix’s car?”
“He said we could.” I’d double-checked today. He and Harleigh were having dinner with Jessa and her boyfriend, so Nix’s beloved car was all ours. I really needed to invest in my own wheels, but money was tight and wouldn’t stretch to a car. I’d started saving when I first started working at the mill. But every time I got close to having enough for a down payment, something would blow up, fall apart, or need replacing, and getting my own ride had to take a back seat again.
I watched Grams struggle as she cleaned off the counter. Today was a good day, she was managing to shuffle around on her own two feet. But it was getting less and less frequent.
We already had a wheelchair stowed away for her, but the stubborn woman was refusing to use it until she absolutely needed it.
A cry of pain pierced the air, and I rushed over to her side. “Grams?”
“Just a spasm, dear.” She inhaled a shaky breath, her skin pale and clammy. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”
“Do you need your meds?”
“No, no. It’ll pass.” She clenched and unclenched her fist, forcing her fingers flat against the counter as tremors of pain wracked through her.
I hated it.
Fucking hated that this degenerative disease was eating away at her, stripping away all her strength, and leaving her weak and vulnerable.
