Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

CHASE

I ’ve never been much of a late sleeper; after years of catching the bus early for school plus eight a.m. college classes, and then taking the day shift at TechAll, conditioned me well. So when the sun starts peaking over the horizon, I’m up with it. Doesn’t matter that we were outside until well after midnight, and that my family won’t be functional for hours, here I am.

I seek Easton out before I fully orient myself with reality. I didn’t let myself fall into too deep of a sleep, wanting to keep an ear out for him. He didn’t seem all the way okay when we fell asleep last night but when I asked, he said he was, so I wanted to trust him. Wasn’t enough to stop me from worrying, even while unconscious.

At first, I don’t see him. The bed doesn’t look slept in and there’s definitely not a human-sized lump in the bed. My first thought is that he fucking ran away again. My breath catches in my throat and my stomach sours. I can’t lose him again, I just fucking found him. He’s mine. Mine to watch out for and care for, mine to hold and wipe away his tears .

I don’t know what it means, but I’ve never been more sure of anything.

Easton has me all wrong if he thinks I’m letting him disappear into the night again. No sir, we’ve tried that before and we’re not doing it again. Damn sure not without a phone and a plan to survive. Or at all, but I’ve got to earn it first.

Determined to find my Chaos, I shove to my feet and freeze halfway standing. His long, lithe body is folded tight in the top corner of the bed with his back pressed to the corner of the wall. There’s not even a moment to take his appearance in, once I lay eyes on him, a whimper passes over his abused lips, and I’m on him.

He comes so easily, like he was waiting for me for hours but scared to wake me up. He falls forward, practically taking flight, leaving me to scramble to catch him. One hand wraps around his bicep to help steady him and the other goes to his sweat-soaked back to pull him to me. My poor, sweet Chaos is drenched from the crown of his head, but it doesn’t slow me down.

“Oh, baby. What is it?” I ask as I get him situated against my chest. I’m not exactly expecting words out of him. He’s shaking like a leaf, and the second he connects to me, sobs start tearing from his throat.

I’m the worst kind of idiot. I knew he was having a hard time last night. I was worried about him starting to feel like his wings were being clipped. That, in his mind, one night spent cuddling up gave me delusions about being entitled to sharing every night with him, and he’d start to feel trapped. I should have been more concerned with the demons in his head.

My sweet boy is fighting more battles in the dead of night than he’s ever dared to voice, I’m just trying to show him he doesn’t have to face it alone.

My grip on him doesn’t loosen until his sobs start fading into little gasping breaths as he tries to get his bearings straight again. I’d bet my annual salary that he has barely closed his eyes long enough to blink since I went to bed. There’s no way I can keep letting him down like this. I’m not na?ve enough to believe that I can solve these ups and downs for him, but he can’t keep bottoming out alone because of my own issues.

Easton finally sits up, wet tear-stained cheeks, dark red and swollen eyes. He hiccups and drops his gaze to his lap. That won’t do. I hook my index finger under his chin and bring his head up. “Don’t do that, sweetheart.”

His nose scrunches as he hiccups again. “Do what?” he asks, voice thread-bare.

“Hide from me.”

Fresh tears well in his eyes, glimmering like sunshine on water. “You’re going to get tired of me. I’m too much.”

Oh, fuck. Is that what he thinks? My stare hardens, making him shiver. “No. You’ll learn I don’t give up, Easton. You are not too much, not to me and not to anyone that deserves to be around you. It’s okay for you to need someone, and I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t up to the job.”

“You don’t know how bad it gets.” Shame is not a good look on him, he’s always beautiful, but I’ve got to get this through his head.

Easton didn’t know me before I had friends. He doesn’t know that I’ve known him since long before Brady ever mentioned his name. He may be having a hard time right now, but I know the core of him. He’s shy, kind-hearted, and so very giving. Time may have weathered him, but he’s still under there. I’m a patient man, there’s plenty of time for him to realize what he is to me.

Not that I have a name for it, but it’s damn sure more than he sees.

“Tell me, then. ”

His eyebrows furrow as he starts nervously picking at his cuticles. I still the action with a hand on top of his and give him an encouraging look. He so obviously wants to give me pieces of the puzzle, not because he’s something to solve but because I genuinely don’t think he knows what to do with them, and he needs help understanding for himself.

I wait him out, my thumb stroking over the back of his knuckles. It takes him a few tries, some deep breaths. His mouth even opens a couple of times, only to find himself tongue-tied and closes it again. I can’t help but study him. His eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep, his lip looks like he’s chewed it to the point of bleeding a couple of times, but the determination is coming off him in waves.

Deja-vu washes over me. The set in his jaw is so achingly familiar, the same as four years ago when he came out for the first time. This is probably the first time he’s ever talked about this too.

Easton clears his throat and tries one last time. “It’s like I get trapped in my head and can’t get out. If I get reminded of something, it can start playing over and over again like a movie, except it feels like I’m there, living it again. Sometimes, I can feel it coming, almost like watching a weather forecast and seeing a storm coming in. Other times, it just happens.” He’s imploring me to understand him, as if I’m going to be warded off from being around him. Leave it to Easton Callaghan to be worried about me when he’s talking about his own suffering. “There’s days where no one is around, and I just don’t get out of bed. It’s like I can’t, like my bones are made of cement and too heavy for me to lift. Something is really wrong with me, Chase.”

A cry for help if I’ve ever seen one. Somehow, I doubt his parents ever really talked about mental health. Brady took some psych classes and seemed blown away by them. I would have thought Easton would have learned at least a little about it in the last four years, but he seems just as sheltered as he ever was. As much as I want to ask him if he’s ever talked to a doctor about depression or PTSD, freaking him out would be a big step backwards.

I tuck a stray lock of hair behind his ear, making him melt into my hand slightly. “If you’re trying to scare me off, it’s not working, sweetheart. If you want help to start dealing with that stuff, I’ll figure it out with you. But you’re going to have to do a lot worse than that if you want me to run for the hills.”

He tries to laugh, but it’s more of a sigh. “Like what?”

I consider it for a second. “Hmm. Probably set an orphanage on fire or something along those lines.”

“That gives me a lot of wiggle room.”

He’s beginning to settle down; looks less like the walls are caving in on him, and it’s an incredible sight. Poor thing is still worn out, but he’s so much less panicked. Maybe talking about it helped get some of the weight off his chest. “Don’t hang yourself with all that rope,” I tease.

“Tempting.”

I roll my eyes. “Such a brat. So what do you feel up to this morning? You want to try and sleep for a bit?”

He pales a bit and shakes his head. “There’s no way I could, even with you.”

“Fair. Coffee then?”

He scrambles into an upright posture, nearly knocking into me. “Dear God. Please.”

Chuckling, I say, “You got it, Chaos.”

To my core, I’m a selfish guy. Probably because I’ve never felt like anyone’s first choice. I’ve made my peace with it, at least as much as I’m going to, but I enjoy giving him all this attention. He could have anyone, but it’s me that makes him feel safe enough to open up. Me that he wants to help guide him through whatever he’s trying to come to terms with. I am, without a doubt, the least qualified person to do that, but I can learn on the job.

I will, he deserves my best, and that’s exactly what he’s going to get.

Once we’re downstairs, I send Easton outside while I make our coffee. It’s a bright, sunny day full of chirping birds and the smell of dew clinging to the grass. The vitamin D might provide him a much needed reset so he can get through the day. Plus, it gives me the added bonus of seeing his face light up when I do the most minor things for him.

“Morning, kiddo,” my dad grumbles, shuffling into the kitchen and scaring the ever-loving daylights out of me.

“Shit!” I rub my sternum trying to slow my racing heart. “When did you start moving around on cat paws?”

He smirks at me. “If you little shits would stop calling me old so much, you might notice some things.”

I’ll be on his last nerve till his dying day. “But you are old, poppy.”

His look evolves into a glare. Mission accomplished. “Sage gets away with it because she’s my granddaughter. You better fuckin’ watch it.” I shake my head and pass him a mug of black coffee. Disgusting. “Easton up?”

I nod towards the back door. “Outside.”

“He okay?”

It’s refreshing to see him acting in full dad-mode, especially about Easton. His episode really freaked me out, I know he’s tired of all of us fretting over him, but he’s the rock of our family. If something happened to him, I’m not sure how we’d all survive that. “For the most part.”

Dad only wants to help, but Easton deserves privacy. He sees right through me, of course, I’m a shit liar when it comes to my parents and I gave up trying. Being evasive is about as good as it gets when I’m trying to keep something from either of them. He sips his coffee and sighs. “Look out for that boy, Chase. I don’t know where he was, but it wasn’t anyplace good. He’s still coming back.”

I finish making our mugs and carefully gather them up. “I’ve got it under control, pops.”

His head bobs with his approval and I guess that’s that. The backdoor squeaks when I open it, announcing my entrance. Easton is curled up on the outdoor sofa and when he sees what I’m holding, he lights up brighter than a summer’s day.

“Here you go, sweetheart.”

He takes the steaming mug from my hands eagerly and takes a large sip. The sound of happiness he makes goes straight to my cock. “Thank you, Chase. It’s perfect.”

I clear my throat and wipe the filthy thoughts from my head. Wrapping an arm around him, I say, “That’s a good look on you.”

There’s that damn bunny scrunch again. “What is?”

Christ, he’s fucking adorable. “Happy.”

He drinks greedily to avoid accepting my compliment, but snuggles deeply into my side. He turns his face into the new daylight like a sunflower, soaking up every ray he can. While he chooses not to make an appearance, I can feel my dad watching us from the kitchen window. Maybe I should tell Easton how heartbroken we all were when Brady and I were unable to find him in Florida. When we came home that summer and he told my whole family the story over the dinner table, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. We have never stopped looking, not once in the last four years. But especially before he turned eighteen. Mom and Dad had a lawyer ready to file for emergency custody the second we found him. There’s a box in the hall closet that has four years of birthday and Christmas presents unopened that are waiting on him. Mom has already pulled me aside and asked if she should give them to him, but I had no idea what to tell her. He seems so… betrayed. Of course, I want to help alleviate that, but he and Brady have to work through their animosity first.

I haven’t forgotten what he said in the car yesterday. What he thinks about his brother. I acknowledge the reality that some people are bigots behind closed doors, it’s impossible for Brady. Somewhere, somehow there’s been a massive misunderstanding, and their close relationship is a victim of it. Once it’s mended, then maybe my sweet Chaos will be able to see that he belongs with us.

Sage comes barreling out the door, full speed with a box of mismatched markers under one arm and a coloring book clutched in her tiny hand. “Eassin!”

He’s quick to put his coffee safely above our heads on the deck railing with a second to spare before she flings herself at him. “Hi, kiddo. Someone woke up on the right side of the bed this morning.”

My darling niece is either going top speed or asleep. Every morning she wakes up on the right side of the bed. “My bed only has one side. You’re silly.”

I bark a laugh. “Whatcha got there, pumpkin?”

“Colors,” she says in a flat tone that suggests she wanted to add a dumbass at the end of that if only her vocabulary allowed.

“Let’s see your book,” Easton prompts as Logan joins the fray. She says her greetings but Easton and Sage are already preoccupied as she allows him first pick of her zoo animals coloring book. High praise.

My sister is eyeing us suspiciously. I’m about to get the third degree, I just know it. She lasts all of about thirty seconds, which is about twenty-five more than I thought. “You guys seem cozy.”

It’s an effort not to groan. “Something you’d like to say, sis? ”

She hums. “Oh nothing, it just looks like we walked in on something.”

“Nope. Just drinking coffee.”

“Because friends love zero personal space before caffeine.” Sassy for someone wearing fuzzy pink pajama pants, but what do I know?

Luckily, Easton is oblivious. I level my sister with a glare which she returns with an innocent shrug and lets the subject drop. Eventually, Parker and Emerson filter out, yawning and rubbing their eyes blearily. Mom is the last one up, which is no surprise. She’d miss her own funeral if it was before ten a.m.

When Parker resembles something akin to a human, he says Dad is just getting started on breakfast and asks me to go with him to the gym before it’s ready. Leaving Easton alone with my mom and Logan seems like a risk, but when I nudge him, he only looks up briefly before waving me off. Him and Sage have a real project going on it seems so I leave them to it.

We wave to Dad as we pass him, who’s very preoccupied getting cinnamon rolls in the oven. He spoils us. Parker and I separate momentarily to change clothes but we’re on our way out fairly quickly considering he was still mostly asleep ten minutes ago.

“So, Brady must be fucking stoked,” Parker says as we walk. The gym is only five blocks up so dealing with the limited parking was not worth it.

“Um, yeah. He’s glad to know that Easton is okay for sure.”

Parker pauses. “Kinda surprised he didn’t come, especially with his birthday right around the corner.”

Goddamn. What is with these people today? “He decided to hang back this time. Give Easton a chance to get acclimated and all that. ”

“That makes sense.”

I make a noncommittal noise and he thankfully leaves it alone. Parker has always been the energizer bunny out of us all. He’s go, go, go, and usually is pretty nosy. Don’t get me wrong, he’ll take whatever he finds out to the grave, but he is going to try and get it out of you so he can help. Logan’s mini-me, without a doubt. All of us are step-ladder kids, each one born right after the other, so while they are my greatest annoyances, my siblings are also my best friends. It took us a while to get here, so long we almost gave up on the possibility, but there’s no going back now. I much prefer Parker calling me three times a day to update me on the menial shit that’s happened in the last six hours than the isolation I felt as a kid when he was right across the hall and I didn’t know how to talk to him.

Emerson and Logan too, they’re a pain in the ass but I’m the only one allowed to think that.

We almost are at the gym before he speaks again. “Why do we all have gender neutral names?” I wish he hadn’t.

I bark a laugh. “Do you ever get tired of saying weird shit out of nowhere?”

A grin splits his face. “No. So, anyway, why do you think Mom and Dad did that?”

“I don’t think mine is, Park.”

He holds the door open for me as we walk inside, immediately ready to defend his position. “Nah, Chase could totally be a girl's name.” He keeps going even as he racks his weights. “You don’t see it? I totally can.”

It’s an effort not to roll my eyes. “Shut up before you drop that on your neck, dumbass.”

He brings the weight to his chest and back up with a smirk. “Worrywart.”

We bicker the entire time we work out, Parker egging me on to add more weights or do extra reps and me doing the same to him because I’ll be damned if I’m the only one suffering this morning. Competitive little fucker.

By the time we’re done, my arms are jello and I’m drenched in sweat. Parker is acting smug as shit, but I saw how he winced when he pulled the door open. It is going to be a fucking scorcher in Illinois today. The heat index already has it feeling like you’re inhaling steam when you breathe and it’s not even noon. The walk home is going to be so fun.

Easton not having a fully-functional phone is really starting to bother me, if only for the reason I can’t stop thinking about how he’s doing at home. Borrowing one I had no intention of ever taking out of its desk drawer grave is one thing, but worrying he won’t be able to get in touch with me because he’s out of WiFi range is not working for me. I don’t know if it’s a financial thing or what else could be the reason behind it, but I’m gonna start breaking out in hives soon if we don’t figure this out.

Parker nudges me with his shoulder. “Hey.”

Dude, we just spent almost an hour together. “Hey, what?”

“Can I come visit for the Fourth of July?”

“Maybe,” I say. “Why do you want to?”

He sighs heavily. “Well, the thing is, this girl I’m seeing is getting a little clingy and wants me to go to Montana with her to go boating with her family for the holiday, and I don’t wanna. So I lied and said you and Brady always go all out in Washington and we already made plans.”

Did I say he was my pain in the ass? Because, surely, there’s a return policy. “Sure, Park. Come whenever. But have you considered just breaking up with what's-her-face?”

He laughs, like I’m joking. “No. Camille is great, I just don’t want to set the precedent that we do holidays together because that’s how you fuck up and get into a serious relationship on accident. ”

I trip on the fucking sidewalk, making Parker look at me like I’ve lost my marbles. “Is… is that something that happens to you? Accidental relationships?”

He scoffs. “Yeah, totally. Especially in high school. You give a girl your letterman one time because she’s shivering in chemistry and all of a sudden you’re at Sunday dinner with her dad glaring at you across the table. Spooky stuff.”

“Fucking hell, Parker.”

When I came out at fifteen, Parker was the one I said it to first. He was so fucking outgoing and had endless patience for my introverted ass. He was always making an effort to try to include me in his life even when I wanted nothing to do with it. One day, I decided it was time to give him something. It was all I had to offer; I was far from ready to talk openly about my sexuality. I wanted nothing to do with his jock friends. But this was something I could do.

It was a rainy October evening and suddenly the weight of hiding who I was becoming too much for me to bear. I had to tell someone. Fucking anyone. Mom was at her gallery late, Dad was at work. Emerson was at the movies, and Parker was the only one home. He asked if I wanted pizza for dinner because Mom had left us a twenty on the counter to get some food, and I blurted it out like I’d die if I didn’t.

God, the way he fucking smiled at me, I’ll remember it for the rest of my life. He had on his navy blue football hoodie and he kept running his fingers through his hair because it had just been cut earlier that day. My little brother went from completely apathetic, didn’t care either way, all he was thinking of was what he wanted for his next meal. Then his whole face split in half with his smile. He could see I was trusting him with something major, and goddamn, did he feel special.

I had just blurted it out, like I was hurrying to answer a Family Feud question. Then with far more maturity than I’d thought he was capable of as a gangly fourteen-year-old, he thanked me for telling him, asked if I wanted help telling anyone else and volunteered to be there for me when I came out to the rest of the family, even though literally no one would have cared. The closet was fucking glass by the time I ventured out, but he was still ready to suit up for a fight.

Looking back, that was probably the turning point for our relationship, even if I didn’t recognize it at the time.

It was one of the moments in life that you remember forever, the fragility and vulnerability making you raw and hyperaware, you catalog every single facial expression looking for the slightest sign of rejection, and Parker came through.

My throat feels tight even thinking back to it. He’s right beside me, all grown up now, far from that kid with the too-short hair and baggy hoodie, but that warmth he showed me is still there, front and center. This bright light battling the darkness of isolation, never letting it overshadow me.

Hell, they’re all like that now. Apparently, none of them are letting me fade into the shadows anymore. If it’s not Parker calling to tell me what he had for breakfast, it’s Logan saying my niece wants to talk to me and letting her blabber on and on as long as she finds necessary, or Dad sending me some sort of obscure news article about a new species of turtle at a zoo in Australia.

“Park,” I say, coming to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. We’re only five houses away from home, but once again, it can’t wait.

He eyes me curiously. “Yeah, bro?”

It’s an effort to make myself look him in the face. “I like where we’re at. Me and you. Even if I pretend it bothers me when you blow my phone up for no damn reason, it doesn’t.”

What has me feeling so fucking sentimental, I’ll never know. I hate it. Parker doesn’t miss a beat. “I know that, Chase. You’re like Eeyore. We may have to drag you along sometimes, but we’re never going to leave you behind just because you’re a little grumpy.”

The guilt of trying to push them away for years is overwhelming, paired with the knowledge that if my best friend hadn’t gone through something awful and traumatic, I may have been successful.

Parker claps me on the shoulder, spurring me back into motion while I focus on blinking away the sudden emotion threatening to spill over. When we make it home, my heart sinks when I see Easton with a faraway look in his eyes with his knees to his chest, taking up as little space as possible on the couch. Logan is standing guard, for a while by the sounds of it. The rest of the family is in the kitchen getting ready to sit down. Parker mutters a fuck, and I couldn’t agree more. He’s pale, abusing the skin around his fingernails and doesn’t look up when we walk in.

Logan gives me a look that says I don’t know what happened but there’s nothing I can do to fix it . I approach cautiously. He can spiral pretty deeply in his thoughts, and I don’t want to startle him.

Mindful to keep my voice calm, I ask, “You okay, sweetheart?”

He doesn’t hear me, too lost in the dark place that plagues him. That dark place doesn’t scare me, I have one of my own. I can get him back. I’ll always get him back.

I gently lay my hand on his forearm, making him jerk back like I struck him. Immediately, my hands are raised, ensuring I’m not touching him. “Hey, hey,” I coo. “You’re safe, Easton. You’re safe here.”

I position myself as close to him as I can without coming into contact with his body. My mouth doesn’t stop moving, saying whatever comforts come to mind. Slowly, he becomes more aware. When his stormy eyes find mine, his lip quivers, a pitiful sound escaping from between them. “There you are, beautiful.” I pause for a moment as he inhales shakily. “It’s getting pretty bad, isn’t it?”

His head drops, unable to bear it. “Yeah.”

My mind is made up. “We’re going to get through it, Chaos. You and me, okay?”

He gulps, creamy throat bobbing. “Promise?”

“Promise, baby. Let’s get some food, yeah?”

When he gives me his hand, I pull him to his feet. He’s obviously embarrassed, hanging in my shadow as we make our way to the kitchen. Not that he should be, mealtimes are chaotic enough that a couple of late arrivals barely get noticed, and if anything, they’d only be concerned about him.

Dad glances up just long enough to clock we’re in the room and grunts a quick eat up before he’s back to inhaling his scrambled eggs and whacking Emerson’s hand away when he catches him trying to sneak a piece of bacon off his plate.

We join the group, dropping into the available seats in between Sage’s highchair and Parker. Pops went all out this morning; pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, homemade biscuits, and a mountain of fruit salad.

Fuck, I love coming home.

My plate gets piled high, and everything is steaming hot and delicious. Dad spoils us. Everyone has moved out, leaving just him and Mom at home, which they love, but he’s happy when he can get the bunch together for a home-cooked meal again. Parker and Emerson alternate from an apartment Park is sharing with his roommate, and the extra bedroom at Logan’s place so she can work nights and have one of them there with Sage.

I think it’s weird as fuck that neither of them have a permanent bedroom all to themselves, but it works for them, so I guess more power to them. Paying one-fourth of rent every month probably outweighs the hassle of all the back and forth.

“You were supposed to start back to work the other day, right, Lo?” I ask.

She hurries to swallow so she can answer. “Yeah, but the paint was still drying, and the reopening got postponed for the night so I said I’d just wait until after this weekend to start back.”

Easton looks curious, like he wants to ask so I just fill him in. “Logan dances at a strip club.”

He blushes a little as his dimple pops out. “Oh. That’s cool,” he mumbles softly. His voice isn’t all the way back to normal yet, but he means it. Some people are real assholes about her being a stripper, but Easton seems more intrigued than anything.

“Until I’m done with school,” Logan adds.

Easton moves eggs around on his plate before deciding on a strawberry instead. “What are you studying?” His voice doesn’t carry well over the clatter but Logan either reads his lips or just takes a shot in the dark and happens to nail it.

“So, I’m almost done with my bachelor’s in Environmental Engineering. I haven’t decided if I’m going for a master’s, but I guess I don’t have to yet. It sucks being the last one in school though. I’m ready to be done.”

Easton’s eyes widen as he looks around the table. “All of you have gone to college and graduated?”

I’m tempted to ask if he ever finished high school, but it would probably come across as a dig if I did in front of everyone else, especially now. Emerson answers him. “Yep, I’m the most recent. I graduated last month. Now the only one left is Lo, but she obviously has to go at a different pace.”

“Motherhood will do that to you,” she quips. “We wouldn’t change a damn thing though, would we, munchkin? ”

Sage agrees easily, even though I’m pretty sure she’s paying too much attention to her food to know what we’re talking about. “No way, Mommy.”

Easton lets the conversation fall away from him and stabs the smallest bit of egg. He tries to get it down, and you’d think he was trying to swallow a razor blade. It takes three times before he manages it, all while he’s obviously trying not to puke.

Fucking hell, I’m such an idiot. Easton doesn’t like breakfast food.

“We’ll leave right now to go get you something else,” I murmur.

Panic flashes in his eyes. “What? No, I’m fine.”

“It’s my fault, sweetheart. I forgot.”

I don’t give him a chance to protest, just take our plates, scrape the rest in the garbage and put them in the dishwasher. Mom raises an eyebrow, but I thank Dad for the delicious meal, say we’ll be back in a bit, steal Emerson’s car keys, and haul Easton out the door.