“Then I’ll go with you. We’ll take off. However long you want. Chey doesn’t care, right, baby?”
“No,” she says. “Whatever you guys need, do it.”
I’ve said before how real he is, how real they both are, but I didn’t realize how much until this second. He would leave his girl to take off with me if I need it. She would let him. “You’re a good guy, man. Real. Stay with your girl. You need each other. Don’t worry about me.” I just want out. I need to breathe and get away from everyone so I can try and lose myself again. It hurts too fucking much to get close.
I walk away from him. “Don’t do this. Don’t fucking bail like this, Adrian,” he says, but I know he won’t try to stop me. Colt doesn’t work that way.
“Please?” Cheyenne reaches for me as I hit the hallway. She grabs my arm, tears in her eyes. “I wouldn’t have made it through Colt’s accident without you.”
“Now you have him, so you don’t need me.” I kiss her forehead and walk out. Walk away to get lost again, Ash’s shirt still tight in my grip.
Chapter Twenty-Two
~Delaney~
His son, his son, his son. How could Ashton have been his son? But then… he’d been sixteen when Ashton was born. He’d given legal custody to Angel. According to the law, she was his. It’s not like Mom talked about it. Or that Maddox or I had gone to court with Dad—or if they would have even mentioned something like that there.
His son. My father killed his son. Adrian saw his little boy die. And he has the guilt of thinking he should have been able to protect him like he thought he should his mom.
I jump out of my bed and hardly make it to the bathroom before I’m vomiting. Everything purges out of my stomach until it cramps. Until I’m gagging and dry-heaving and there’s nothing left in me.
Flushing the toilet, I lie right there on the cold bathroom floor. Somehow I still have tears left and I let them fall. Couldn’t stop them if I wanted to and the whole time I see Adrian.
His son, his son, his son.
* * *
It’s been two days and I haven’t left the house. Work calls, but I don’t answer. I can hardly make myself leave the bed. My brother hasn’t come home. I’ve called him a million times, but he doesn’t pick up. He’s never stayed gone like this before. Never just left me like he did. Maddox always answers when I call. He’s always there when I need him.
But now he’s not…
Just like Adrian… he’s gone.
* * *
“Cheyenne?” I ask when she answers the phone one day later. “Hi… it’s Laney. Delaney.” She called me Laney when we hung out at her apartment that night, but I don’t know if she’ll want to anymore.
“I know who it is.” Her voice is clipped. “Well, I thought I knew who you were. I definitely didn’t know you were tied to Adrian’s past somehow. Definitely didn’t know you’d wreck him like you did.”
I know I deserve the anger in her voice. I deserve more than that and I’m glad she’s doing it. Glad Adrian has her.
There’s a part of me that wants to cry, but God, I’m so tired of crying, of folding, but I don’t know if I can do anything else.
“Hurting Adrian is the last thing I wanted. I know it doesn’t seem that way, but it’s true. I love him.”
She sighs on the other end of the phone. “What happened? I’ve… I’ve never seen him like that. It’s like he was gone. His eyes were empty. Adrian doesn’t say much, but you can always tell he has so much going on inside him.”
I play those words over and over in my head. Let them echo and penetrate each layer, no matter how much it hurts. “I know…” I curl up in the corner of my bed, like it will somehow protect me from the truth. “I did that. I know it, and my intentions don’t matter. I just wanted… I wanted to try and find a way we could all make it out of this without so much pain. But I took too long to tell him. How is he?”
“I don’t know. He’s gone. What do you expect? It’s not like Adrian’s going to tell us. We didn’t even know… he really had a son?”
My mouth opens and I start to talk. I tell her about my family, my dad and what he did. About my mom. Even about seeing Angel. I admit that I came here to find him and that I basically lied… but then I tell her how much I love him. And how he makes me feel and how incredible he is. When I stop, she’s crying.
“We never knew… How could he not have told Colt at least?”
Then we cry together. Cry for the broken man we both care about. For the demons he lets haunt him. And for the little boy we’ll never meet, who would have grown up to be just as special as Adrian.
* * *
I sit outside my mom’s apartment complex. It’s been a week since Adrian left. Since I’ve seen my brother, who’s texted me a couple times to let me know he’s okay.
I didn’t tell him I was coming here because I know he would come for me. And as much as I want him by my side before I step into that apartment, I have to do it on my own. It’s not Maddox’s job to protect me. It’s not his job to follow me, regardless of whether he believes in what I’m doing or not.
It’s time I do something by myself.
It’s time I really face her, and talk to her, because just like it’s not Maddox’s job to protect me, it’s not my job to take care of her. To be her punching bag. I accept her anger and hate of my father and let her make it about me.
If I could look Adrian in the eyes and tell him about my father, I can do this. If I can survive the pain in his eyes, I can do anything, which is why I don’t even let my legs shake as I walk up the stairs. I don’t stress enough to let my heart go rapid.
And I hope she’s okay. God, I hope she is, but I can’t make it my responsibility to make her that way. We all deal with our pain in a different way, I realize. Maddox is broken because he takes the blame for Dad. Thinks he should have done something. I want to fix everything. I take responsibility for Mom’s anger at me. I tried to make it better for all for us when no one, no one can fix anything for anyone else.
And Adrian. My heart jumps at the thought of him. He puts more blame on himself than all of us combined. For Ashton. For leaving his sister and not stopping his father. He’s lived with this misplaced responsibility since he was a kid. It’s been eating him alive ever since.
I grab the railing and close my eyes, willing the tears to stay back. I miss him. I miss him so much that I had to force myself to leave the bed, but I have to do this.
After taking a couple deep breaths, I finish the walk to Mom’s apartment. I raise my hand and knock on the door.
“Who is it?” she calls, but I don’t answer. Instead I try the handle, which is unlocked, so I open the door.
“It’s Laney,” I say as I close it behind me.
“I wondered how long it would take before you came to check on me.” She’s sitting on the small love seat. The TV’s off and she’s crocheting. It’s so normal that you’d never know she tried to kill herself a month ago. That she’s fine and then suddenly she’s not. You’d never know she hates me.
“I’m here now.” Walking over to the chair across from her, I sit down.
“I’m all medicated up.” Mom picks up a pill bottle and shakes it. “A dose of happiness once a day. Everything’s better now. You don’t have to try and fix me.”
Her words sting.
“Where’s your brother?” she asks.
I look at the hooks in her lap, a memory floating to the surface. “Remember when I was little and you tried to teach me to crochet? I was horrible. I never could get it, but I still have the afghan we worked on together.”
She sighs and smiles a little. “I remember. That was when everything was good. Before your father started chasing women and you started chasing him.”