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The bell over the front door at Cup O’ Joe chimes as I push through. All the tables are taken and there’s a line about four customers deep with Janice manning the register and one of the new part-time hires filling orders.
“Hey, you,” Alison greets me from behind the display, loading it with a fresh batch of—what Peggy likes to call—massivemuffins. “What are you doing here? How did it go last night?”
“Great,” I say, trying and failing to keep the heat from rising to my cheeks.
So what? I slept with Butch Montgomery last night and I’ve been steadily falling head over heels for the man for weeks now. We’re together. He’s made that abundantly clear over the last twenty-four hours—the whole town will find out soon enough, I’m sure. “I just need to grab something from the back. I’m taking breakfast with me, too. What kind are these?”
“Apple cinnamon. How many do you want?” she asks, grabbing a paper bag from under the display.
Peggy lets us eat for free while we’re on the clock and generously gives us an employee discount when we’re off, so I decide to splurge. “Six,” I call behind me, heading for the back office. I grab the copies I made yesterday from the desk and head back to the front to get in line.
“Hey, Cass.”
I turn at the sound of my name, my gaze landing on Alex. I fight back an immediate response of something snarky considering how creepy he was acting the last time I saw him at Tavern Nine. But he doesn’t smell like beer or piss and for once he appears to be full-blown sober. “Hey.”
He takes the open spot in line behind me, pushing his hands in his jean pockets. “You, uh, gotten to talk to Garrett yet?”
My brow furrows. Why would he ask me that? He was there, sitting on the couch at the trailer on Garrett’s birthday, not doing a damn thing while Garrett and I argued for hours. “Not in a few days. Why?” Worry slices through me like ice. Did something happen?
He nods solemnly, staring down at his shoes. “I know I haven’t exactly had his back, I guess…but I’d like to reach out to him. Let him know I support his decision and whatnot.”
“I can help whoever’s next in line,” Janice calls out.
I step forward, my mind swimming as I relay my order to her before turning back to Alex. “What do you mean byhis decision?”
He actually has the gall to act uncomfortable, shifting on his feet. “I mean, I get it. It had to be his choice to go, but I—”
I put my hand up, stopping him. “Alex, what are you talking about? Where is my brother?”
“He left,” he says. “He sent out a mass text to me and a few of the guys saying he was admitting himself to a rehab facility west of Billings. Said he had some shit to work through and that he couldn’t keep going on like he has been.”
My heart nearly stops in my chest. Heleft? Without telling me or bothering to say goodbye? “What? When?”
“Yesterday,” he tells me. “I asked if he needed a ride, but he said he already had one. That Butch Montgomery was taking him.”
He lied to me. I swallow down the heartbreak rising in my throat like bile.
Butch lied to me. He chose not to tell me about Garrett and acted like everything was fine all evening. How could he possibly think that was the right thing to do?
Tears burn my eyes as I pay Janice—who’s listening in, of course, with clear surprise of her own marring her face. I gather the food and tray of coffee in my arms.
“If you, uh, get a phone number for the place,” Alex says, “I’d really like to talk to him if they’ll let me.”
I nod, too quickly and too much as tears openly fall, blurring my vision. “Yeah—I mean, yes. I’ll…get all the information and let you know.”
He thanks me as I hurry out the door and over to my car. I don’t know whether to race back to Butch’s and slap him for lying to me, for taking my brother away, for not telling me he was planning this. For not letting me say goodbye.
I sob on the ride home. A raging war of anger and fear and hope and gratitude all battle for center stage of my emotions.Think rationally, Cassidy.I’m trying, but it’s hard to think about anything except my brother is gone to—I don’t even know where.He’s all I have left.But is he? I have Alison and Peggy and Cup O’ Joe and…Butch.
IhadButch.
I don’t know if I have him anymore.
He lied.Did he, though?
Yes. Keeping something from someone you care about, especially something as important as this, is the same as lying.
I pull into the long drive and park beside Butch’s truck, killing the engine. I catch a glimpse of my face in the rearview mirror, red and blotchy with tears still streaming down my cheeks. I suppose it’s a good thing I didn’t bother with makeup before leaving this morning, merely throwing on a tank and sweats, trying to hurry back to spend as much of the day with Butch before dinner at his parents.
