Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Zach

I t felt like someone was using the inside of my skull like a steel drum. The sun cut through the window, searing my corneas the moment I made the mistake of opening my eyes. It took a while for me to figure out what woke me up, the disorientation creating a fog in my head that didn't seem to want to clear. Finally it hit me, the sound of whispered curses. And the smell of charred bacon. That was what had woken me up, and the moment realization of what I was smelling penetrated my consciousness, my stomach lurched.

"Shit," I grunted as I pushed up to sitting, breathing in through my nose and out past my lips slowly, trying my hardest not to puke. My back screamed at the motion and my neck felt stiff as a board. The couch I'd been sleeping on was only half my size, and definitely not something I had in my own house. Then a voice spoke up that caused my lungs to seize.

"Good morning. How are you feeling?"

I made the mistake of jerking my head around toward the kitchen at the back of the cabin, causing my brain to rattle and bang around inside my skull. "Oh, fuck me," I grunted, slamming my eyes closed and pressing my thumbs deep into their sockets to try and stop the stabbing pain.

"If you're going to be sick, I'm going to have to ask you to do it in the bathroom. I'm kind of a sympathy barfer."

I peeled my eyelids back open on a soothing inhale and looked to where Rae was standing in her kitchen, wielding a pair of tongs. "Is that a thing?"

She nodded seriously. "Sure is. You puke, I puke. That's just how it is."

Christ, why the fuck did I drink so much last night ? Then I remembered, and the urge to get obliterated again reappeared.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to be sick." At least I hoped not. With the smell of charcoaled bacon filling up the room, that was still up in the air.

"My attempt at cooking failed miserably," she said as she moved to the small kitchen window and pushed it up to let the smoke out and fresh air in. "But I do have some coffee, if you think you can handle it."

I needed coffee desperately, especially after the bender I'd gone on the night before—and Christ, I'd be lucky if that rot-gut bourbon had left any of my stomach lining behind—but despite being so drunk I couldn't stand on my own two feet, I'd been cursed with a memory good enough to recall all the events that had taken place while I was... impaired. The smartest thing I could do was get the hell out of there before I did something I'd regret. Well... something else .

Fuck me , but I couldn't believe I said all the things I said. I couldn't believe I'd kissed her . And of course it had to be the kind of kiss that would have had the power to knock me on my ass—if the booze hadn't managed to do it first. But it never should have happened.

The fact was, I had seriously fucked up. I was her boss; I was older. I was supposed to be the responsible one, and no matter the shape I'd been in, I had taken advantage of her.

I let out a weary sigh. "Look, Rae," I started as I pushed to my feet, noticing for the first time that they were bare, "About what happened last night."

"Oh, Zach. Don't worry about it. You don't?— "

I cut her off, forcing the words past my lips. "It was a mistake." She froze in the midst of grabbing a coffee mug from one of the cabinets. Her back was to me, so I couldn't see the look on her face. I wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse. On one hand, I wanted to know how she was feeling, what she was thinking, but on the other, I was scared of what I might see. If she hated me for the shit I pulled the night before I didn't want to see it. I wasn't sure I'd survive seeing her look at me with disdain. "I sincerely regret what happened, and it'll never happen again," I continued, the bitterness on my tongue having nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with what I was saying.

It took several seconds before she moved. Her shoulders raised toward her ears as she closed the cabinet and placed the mug she'd retrieved on the counter. When she finally turned to face me, the expression on her face was indecipherable. Usually Rae gave away everything she was thinking or feeling with a single look, but I got nothing. I'd never seen her look so blank, and I could only assume I was to blame.

"Let's just pretend it never happened."

I studied her closely, looking for anything at all that might tell me how she was feeling. "You're sure?"

Her lips curved upward, but the infinitesimal smile didn't come anywhere near her eyes. "Absolutely," she assured me. "You were drunk. It was nothing."

Hearing her disregard a kiss I wouldn't be forgetting any time soon was a punch to the gut, but I appreciated her letting me off the hook. How I'd behaved the night before, kissing her without permission, taking advantage of my position of authority, was deplorable. I hated myself for it. The hangover currently splitting my skull and churning in my gut was the least I deserved.

"Exactly," I agreed, the words making the twisting sensation in my stomach even worse. "Nothing at all."

Silence enveloped the cabin, the atmosphere growing thick and tense. Finally, I couldn't take it any longer. I needed to do us both a favor and get the fuck out of there before I made everything even worse.

"I should head out. But I appreciate you taking care of me last night. You didn't have to do that."

She dipped her head like she was hiding from me as she spoke softly, "It wasn't a big deal."

Maybe not to her. But it was to me. "Anyway, I'll get out of your hair." I threw my thumb over my shoulder awkwardly. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

"Zach," she called out when I turned and started for the door.

Hand on the knob, I looked back over my shoulder. "Yeah? "

She pointed at something near the sofa I'd slept uncomfortably on last night. "Your boots."

"Shit. Right. Thanks." So much for a graceful exit, I thought as I snatched my boots up and made quick work of pulling them on before bolting out the door. I headed straight for the shower as soon as I got home, washing off the stench of bourbon, the remnants of Roam's stall floor, and the shame from my body, scrubbing until my skin was bright pink.

The hangover was still in full force as I got dressed and downed a couple pain relievers with a cup of black coffee before grabbing the keys to my truck and heading out. It was only a matter of time before word of my behavior at the store yesterday, then my bender in the barn, spread around, if it hadn't already. I knew my parents would be upset if they found out about it through the grapevine instead of from me, so as badly as I wanted to head toward my spot by the river, I guided my truck in the opposite direction toward their house.

As it always was, the door was unlocked, opening wide for me as soon as I twisted the knob. "Anyone home?" I called out, pausing at the entryway and listening closely before moving deeper into the house. I'd walked in on them doing things no son should ever see his parents doing one too many times in my life. I knew better than to barge in when it wasn't a planned visit .

"Hey, sweetie," I heard my mom call back. But that wasn't good enough.

"Everyone's dressed, right? I'm not gonna see anything that'll cause me to need even more years of therapy, am I?"

Rory appeared in the entryway—fully clothed, thank the Lord above—drying her hands on a dishtowel. "Hi, honey. This is a nice surprise." She moved toward me, raising on her tiptoes to press a kiss to my cheek. I returned the gesture, pressing an affectionate kiss to the top of her head. "I'm making breakfast. You hungry? It's blueberry pancakes."

Rory's pancakes were the first thing she'd ever cooked for me, and they had been my favorite since that very first day twenty-three years ago. No matter how sick I felt, there was no way I'd say no to those pancakes.

"You already know the answer to that."

She smiled and waved me in. "Good. Come on in. Want some coffee? Just finished brewing a fresh pot."

"Definitely wouldn't say no to that."

"Hey, bud," Cord greeted as soon as I entered the kitchen. I moved to where he was sitting at the island and leaned in to give him a hug.

"Hey, Dad."

He leaned back, his eyes drilling into me, seeing beneath the surface like he always had. The first time I met Cord Paulson, he'd been chasing me down after I threw that rock through the window of the Tap Room. I could still recall the very visceral fear I felt as he ran after me. Cord Paulson was the biggest guy I'd ever seen. Not only physically, but his presence as well. He was strong as hell in every single way, and he made sure he was that way so he could take care of his family. That had included me from the moment he pulled me back into the bar and I'd given him and Rory my story. The whole ugly thing. That was the moment I'd become theirs.

"You look like hell," he stated in a no-nonsense tone, letting me know it wouldn't do a damn bit of good to lie. "What's going on?"

I took the stool beside his as Mom stacked pancakes on a plate beside a couple strips of bacon. Fortunately it was cooked properly this time, so my stomach didn't have the same convulsive reaction it did at Rae's house.

"Is something wrong?" She looked on with concern as I poured syrup and cut into the stack of pancakes. I shoved the first bite into my mouth, the familiarity of my favorite meal helping ease the tightness clutching at my chest since running out of Fresh Foods.

I swallowed and let out a sigh. "I saw Charles Caswell yesterday," I said without preamble, ripping the Band-Aid right off.

Rory's fork clattered to the counter, her face growing pale. "What? H-how?"

The headache behind my eyes was growing. Merely speaking that name out loud turned the little bit I'd eaten to lead. I pushed the plate away, unable to stomach another bite.

"It was at the market, yesterday. I took Rae to get some stuff and I saw him there."

Dad's hand came down on my shoulder, that touch releasing even more of the pressure from my chest. That was what they did for me. What parents did. For the first twelve years of my life I didn't think that was something I'd ever have. I never wanted to take what Rory and Cord gave me for granted. I'd told myself that being a part of this family had healed me, so why the hell was I so affected by one of the two people who hadn't been part of my life for more than two decades?

"Did something happen?"

I wrapped my hands around my coffee mug, staring down at the dark liquid inside and letting the heat seep into my palms, hoping it would warm the coldness inside.

"Not really," I answered him, giving my head a shake before taking a sip of coffee. "It was only for a split second. He was turning to go down another aisle. He didn't see me, but... "

"Go on," my father coaxed, giving me the nudge I needed.

"I had a panic attack in the middle of the store. I ran out of there like my ass was on fire, leaving Rae behind, I was so desperate to get the hell out of there, away from him."

"Did she get home okay?" Rory asked, her heart so big it was impossible not to care about the wellbeing of everyone around her.

I nodded. "I called Len before I pulled out of the parking lot, made sure she could pick her up."

"That's good," Mom said with a nod of relief. "At least you made sure she was safe first. I can't imagine she'd be upset about that."

"If she was upset, it didn't stop her from helping me out when she found me drunk on a bottle of cheap bourbon on the floor of Roam's stall."

"Oh, Zach." The sadness on her face was like a white-hot poker to the chest.

Cord was still watching me closely. "Explains why you came in here lookin' like stomped on horse shit."

I shot him a flat look as I took another sip of coffee. "Thanks so much for the sympathy, Dad."

He didn't look the least bit impressed. "You know you'll always have that from me, when it's deserved," he stated in the dad voice he'd perfected over the years. " You have that from me about running into that piece of shit yesterday. I understand how seeing him could set you off like that, and there's not a damn bit of shame in your reaction, so get that out of your head right now, because I know that's where your thoughts are going."

Damn it . Of course he was right. He understood better than anyone what it had been like for me back then, since he'd been there himself. It was his story, along with my own, that inspired my mother to start Hope House.

Shortly after they brought me into their lives, Rory and Cord had started a foundation, and from there, they'd opened a group home for foster children. Hope House was a saving grace to kids in the system. More kids than I could count had called that place home in the years since its inception, and they'd all been given opportunities most kids in foster care never got. My parents were determined to make it a safe place, an actual home instead of some stopping point before another shuffle, or worse, another hellhole, of which there were far too many.

They hand-picked every single person they brought on to help run Hope House and care for the kids, making sure they were people who could be counted on, who were reliable, and who would break their backs to give the children in their care good lives .

They cared for the children they were charged with. They treated them like they would their own kids. There was no aging out of Hope House. One of the cruelest things that could happen to a foster kid was to turn eighteen and be shoved out of whatever home they were staying in without any prospects or skills or a single opportunity to help them become something. The people running the home made sure these kids were looking at bright futures.

Cord hadn't been as lucky as I was or the kids taken into Hope House. He'd aged out of the system, and with no other choices, he'd enlisted in the Navy to keep from being homeless. So if there was one person on this planet who could relate with me, who could understand, it was him.

"I will have your back through anything, always, but you know as well as I do that you handled it badly. Using booze to numb the pain is taking a trip down a very dangerous road. You know that. You can't drink your problems away, son."

My chest heaved on a powerful exhale. "Yeah, I know, Dad. It was just a bad night. It won't happen again."

He reached out and grabbed my shoulder, giving me an affectionate jostle. "I know it won't. I trust you. And you know you can come to us if shit ever gets too heavy. It's what we're here for. It's what we do, no matter how old you are. You find you're stugglin', you let your mom and me do our job and guide you through it to the other side. Deal?"

"Deal."