Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
CHASE
O kay, so maybe I was on to something when I told Brady to wait until Easton was ready to come to him, because my parents forcing his hand did not go well. I was hopeful that maybe it would perk him up a little with the day he’s having. Finding out that Brady tried to find him would be good news, I would assume.
Well, it turns out my mother was right about assuming because a light flickered out and died behind Easton’s eyes during that phone call. It needs to come back on because he is lost without it. Sitting there, looking so lost and alone, he’s breaking my heart. I’m not dumb, I’ve caught him checking me out enough times with so much heat in his gaze that his interest was unmistakable. And mine, well, that has never been up for debate. Easton is beautiful and I’m drawn to him in a way I can’t even begin to understand.
Maybe that’s what has me acting impulsively and sliding my arm around his waist, hoisting him up into my lap. He lets out a little squeak of surprise, but makes no move to get off. “What are you doing?” he whispers.
I don’t have a good answer for that, really. “Just trying something.” My voice is huskier than I was expecting. With him this close, rational thought is out the window. All that is left is want, all-consuming and dizzying want.
His breath is coming out in shallow pants, practically begging for my lips to press against his. My hands find his hips, the contact making him gasp. I lean forward until there's not an inch of space between us. Easton’s eyes close. Then I freeze.
No more than three seconds could have passed before a whine climbs its way out of his throat, causing me to chuckle. “Come on, sweetheart. I can’t do this for you, you have to want it badly enough.”
He groans, and if I thought he was enchanting before, it has nothing when he’s frustrated and needy. Then he does the damn thing. First, the gentlest brush before he gets his confidence. One hand snakes up to cup the back of his head, but I want him to set the pace. I’m not sure I’ll ever have enough. He deepens the kiss as his tongue peaks out of his mouth and starts tangling with mine while my brain goes fuzzy. Easton is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.
Fuck, the sounds he makes. Soft, content sighs and needy little mewls like he can’t decide if he wants to kiss forever or try it without clothing in the way.
“Mom says dinner’s ready!” Parker bellows down the stairs, causing us to break apart. We’re both struggling to catch our breath while Easton flushes a pretty shade of pink.
He ducks his head into my neck and groans. “No offense, but fuck your brother,” he mumbles.
I press a chaste kiss to the top of his head. “Let’s run him over with his own ugly Jeep. That’ll show him.”
The comment does its intended purpose in making him laugh. “Don’t give me any ideas.”
Making Easton Callaghan happy might just be the best thing I’ve ever done.
~~ ~
Upstairs, my siblings and I are clueless as to why we're gathered for some big announcement, but the general consensus seems to be that Dad made lasagna, so it can’t be all bad. We're optimists. Or hungry. Who’s to say. Mom and Dad look anxious about something, though.
“All right, guys, it was important to me and Dad that you guys are all together because we have some exciting news about something.”
It was smart of them to do this over dinner. It’s a small miracle that we all manage to look up from our plates. She swallows heavily and looks at my dad for reassurance with a nervous smile.
“We thought our family was complete, but as it turns out, I’m due in February. You guys are getting another brother or sister. I know it's sudden. But we're excited, and we hope you guys are happy about it too.”
Clamor erupts, covering my shock thankfully. Congratulations and hugs are given freely as my siblings rush Mom and Dad. It’s hard to pick out any one thing they’re saying as they all talk over each other, lobbing questions and various bits and bobs left and right rapidly. But I can’t stop thinking about the risks. My mom is forty-seven years old, in the prime of her life and career. Pregnancies are dangerous for women ten years younger than her. My own callousness scraps painfully against my subconscious as soon as the thought pops into my brain, but to hell with whatever potential little sibling if it’s going to risk her health. We don’t exist without her, she’s annoying and more maternal than any human should be, but she’s my mom. The crazy woman who remembers the exact minute each of her kids were born, and makes sure to either call or see us every year so she can tell us how much she loves us at the moment she was gifted our souls to watch over. She says it every time without fail. It’s the cheesiest shit I’ve ever heard, and I’d be lost without it.
Something squeezes my thigh, interrupting my spiral, and I look down to see Easton’s thin hand on my leg. He’s got a soft look in his eyes, careful and concerned, like he can hear the worries plaguing my thoughts. The connection to him feels much more intimate than it should, the way he’s looking at me, I could swear he’d try to kiss me again if we were alone.
“Chaser, what do you think, darling?” Mom asks, throwing a wet blanket over the heat growing in Easton’s eyes.
I clear my throat and look at her across the table, scrambling for something positive to say when I’m not sure if there are any. “Um,” I stammer as I scratch the back of my neck uneasily. “A new baby is a huge deal, I’m happy for you guys, and obviously I’m going to love the hell out of him or her.”
There, that wasn’t so bad, I hope. Mom’s lips tilt in a crooked grin so I must have done okay. Something occurs to me that I have no way to hold back before it comes rushing out. “Wait, does this have anything to do with your heart thing, Dad?”
“Quick as a minute, aren’t you, bud?” He scoffs before reluctantly adding, “The news came as quite a shock, and the damn doctor said it was related to anxiety, so I don’t want to hear about me having a bad heart. I am fine, strong as a horse, just a little surprised to have another little one on the way at my age.”
Relieving, for sure, but now my concern for him can be fully directed to my mom. “I’m glad that’s all it was, pops.”
Dinner continues on an upbeat note, filled with the chatter I associate with family meals. No one else seems concerned about Mom’s pregnancy, which I guess means that I’m overthinking it. She’ll be fine. She’s done this four times before with no problems. One more can’t be that bad.
Easton is rapidly running out of steam, those stormy eyes getting heavier despite his best efforts to keep interacting over dinner, and I am officially done socializing for the day. I love my family more than anything on this planet, but damn, they can fucking talk. Today more than ever with the exciting news that I’m still trying to be excited by. As soon as it’s polite, I excuse both of us for the night and duck out. They’ll be up until who knows when talking baby names and possible genetic combinations like it’s all sunshine and roses. I can’t do it. There’s a reason I never moved home after college, and how polar opposite I am from them is a big part of it.
“Chase?” Easton asks tentatively after we’re sprawled out in bed, legs tangled. We didn’t bother even attempting separate beds.
He’s sitting at my waist with my arm in his lap, tracing my tattoos with his fingertips. “Yeah?”
I suppress a shiver as he goes over the script on my forearm that matches the ones that my sister and brothers have. “Are you okay with the whole new baby thing? It didn’t look like you were exactly happy out there.”
As often as I’m encouraging him to trust me, it wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t give him a mainline into my unfounded fears. “Honestly, it’s driving me insane that no one is talking about how much of a risk this is.”
He’s made it up to the kraken on my bicep now. It seems like having something to do with his hands is making it easier for him to communicate, which is a bit of information I file away for later use. “Maybe they’ve accepted it and just want to be happy, anyway.” It’s not an accusation against me, like it’s on me if I choose to be a downer, but more of a theory he’s been thinking about .
“I wish that were the case, Chaos. They just don’t really believe in borrowing trouble, so there’s no need to worry about things that may not happen. I’m the only one who skipped out on the eternal optimist gene.”
He hums. “I skipped that one too.”
“I know what it’s like to feel like you’re always raining on the Brady Parade. It isn’t easy.” His brother is family to me, I’d do anything for him. But he’s hard to keep up with through no fault of his own. I’m grateful for how he’s forced me out of my shell. College without him would have been a miserable experience, but sometimes I don’t want to look on the bright side. I don’t always need cheering up, just be allowed to be alone with my negative thoughts and have the space to work through them on my own.
Easton’s voice sounds thick. “It’s really not.” He seems to be considering something, chewing on his pouty bottom lip. I stare at the whirling blades of the ceiling fan while he works it out. Once upon a time, before my mom had kids living out of the house, this was my room. Once I got to Washington and fell in love with the area, I gave her full permission to turn it into a guest room. She cried, I did not. This room never really felt like mine enough that I wanted it to be a permanent reminder to the loneliest days of my life. Because I am the worst son, I never got some of the boxes she packed for me. They’re still in the closet.
To me, this house makes a lot more sense now that I’m not living in it. Her cramming all the beds she can fit so that we always come back to stay, bring our friends or future families, that makes sense.
“Chase?” Easton asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.
He looks nervous. Mentally, I steel myself. When Easton looks nervous to tell me something, it’s a safe bet that it’ll be shocking. “What is it, sweetheart?”
“Can I talk to you about something? ”
I flip my arm over in his lap to give him more artwork to trace. “Anything,” I promise.
“You have to promise not to tell my brother. I’m not there with him.”
Easton eyes me warily like he’s not sure if that’s going to be a hard choice for me. “I respect where you’re at with Brady, Chaos. Anything you tell me stays between us.”
He sucks in a shaky breath. “I’m sure he’s told you we were really sheltered growing up, me more than him, I think, because they trusted him. Then after—” He clears his throat, and I pretend I don’t hear the catch in it when he said after. “I was only a kid, I didn’t know much about the real world. I thought I’d figured a lot of things out, but since being around you, I’m not so sure anymore. There’s no one else I can talk to about how confused I am. I know it’s making my mental health so much worse. I just need to understand.”
If someone offered me a check for ten billion dollars to explain any of what he just said, I couldn’t do it. “All right. I will do my best to help.”
“I had a boyfriend, we were together for years. He was older than me, way more experienced, so I always believed him when he said this was the way things were supposed to be.” Jealousy flares hot in my gut, but I can’t help fixating on that word. Older. He was sixteen when he got kicked out, there’s not much older that wouldn’t make his boyfriend a child predator. “He was really charming, taking me on romantic dates and saying the sweetest things to me. We lived together almost the whole time we dated, and that’s when I started to get these weird feelings when he’d say or do something, but there was always a reason. You know?”
I truly do not. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at, honey.”
He blushes a pretty pastel pink and ducks his head. I guess he likes the pet names. “Yeah, I’m not sure what I’m getting at either. I just need to understand.”
I decide we need to change tactics. He’s massively confused, so it’s time for me to start asking uncomfortable questions so some of the pressure is off him. “Okay. When was the first time you got that feeling that you remember?”
His restless fingers have gone over my tattoos twice, but he doesn’t cease. “Right after I moved in, he wanted me to quit the job I got at this scummy diner bussing tables.” I raise an eyebrow and he rushes to justify it. “He made more than enough money for the two of us and he was worried about me working in a bad part of town, so I understood. Plus, he said he missed me too much when I was at work when he got home.”
The red flags, they are a-wavin’. In the interest of not overwhelming him, especially so early in what seems to be a very important conversation, I keep it pushing. “And that made you feel weird?”
He sinks down beside me on the bed, eagerly, I fold him into my arms. “Yeah. I was so excited to have a job. I didn’t want to give it up, but he was so upset with me for days. I didn’t want to hurt him.”
“Okay. When he was upset with you, what did that look like?”
There’s an unmistakable feeling of dread that tells me I know how this story ends, but Easton needs to get it out. It’s weighing on him so heavily. “That time, he would barely even acknowledge I was alive. He stopped driving me to and from work, and didn’t talk to me. I was so scared I ruined everything.” A full-body shudder shakes him so I squeeze him a little tighter.
I knew as soon as he said his boyfriend was older that he was probably taken advantage of, but hearing it and seeing how it still haunts him is a hard pill to get down. “ So, he was worried about you working in an unsafe area but stopped making sure you got there and got home okay?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” he muses softly.
I’m not a particularly violent guy, no one except my sister’s piece of shit baby daddy has ever made me even consider it as an option, but that short list just got a little longer. For the first time, I question if I should keep turning over these stones when I know I’m not going to like what I find underneath. But Easton needs this. That’s all the motivation I need to keep going.
“You asked me earlier if I ever fought with my ex, was that because he would yell at you when you did something he didn’t like?”
His tracing gets a little shakier. “That’s where it started.”
“Where did it end?” I ask tightly around the boulder in my throat.
He sniffs against my chest. “Last week, I was sick. Some flu I couldn’t shake. I could barely get out of bed. But he was so embarrassed that I bailed out of going to some dinner with one of his big clients that he came home drunk, turned the lights on and started yelling at me, and we had sex after I told him no. The next day, he found me asleep in bed when he got home from work and laid into me. I had to sleep outside.”
I have to sit up a bit to combat the wave of nausea that threatens to take me out. There is no such thing as sex after one party says no. And he had to sleep outside? Fuck, I’m not cut out for this.
“Are you okay? I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry, Chase.”
The panic in Easton’s eyes keeps me from going off the rails. I have to keep it together. I can’t have him clam up on me. “No, don’t be sorry. I’m okay. I promise, I’m okay. ”
“Do you want me to go lay in the other bed so you don't have to look at me?”
The resignation in his voice is earth shattering. I never want to hear it again. Taking his face in my hands, I force myself to speak normally. “Easton, that is never what I want. Not now, not tomorrow, not any other day that comes after. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you should be comforting me when you’re the one who's having trouble processing things. I’m so fucking grateful you told me what you went through. You're so strong, and I think deep down, you know the answers that you’re looking for. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be so hard for you to talk about.”
Easton leans into my palm, seeking contact. He can never get enough and neither can I. “It was so gradual, I wasn’t even surprised the first time it happened. And he always made it seem so normal, something every couple goes through.”
I should have stayed in Florida until we found him. I knew when we left that something awful was going to happen to him, and it would be all our fault for not searching every square inch of that damn state. “You’re safe now, sweetheart. You don’t ever have to go through that again.”
“I’m such an idiot,” he admits.
“This is not on you, Easton. You were a child who didn’t grow up seeing a great example of a healthy relationship to begin with. He took advantage of your age and naivety because he wanted someone he could manipulate. He is the monster; you didn’t do anything wrong.”
He huffs sadly. “Easy for you to say, harder for me to believe.”
“That’s fair, but with time, you’ll get there.”
He murmurs into my heated skin, “I hope so.” I can hold him like this for a lifetime, curled into each other’s space with an open channel of trust flowing steadily between us. It’s a heady thing, how he’s opening up to me. My protective instincts flare wildly. It’s going to be hard to go home and face Brady when I want to lash out at anyone who looks at Easton sideways. It was a lot more manageable to not pick sides when I thought it was just damaged feelings he was dealing with, but now knowing what he went through, I want to be someone he can rely on while he’s trying to heal.
Easton’s eyelids start to fight to stay open, making my decision to call it a day an easy one. “Let’s get some sleep, yeah?”
He bobs his head and tucks himself back to my chest, sending a wave of warm and fuzzy feelings all the way down to my toes.
“Hey, Chase?” he whispers after I turn off the lamp, plunging us into darkness.
“Yeah?”
He hesitates a moment before speaking. “I really like kissing you.”
Truly, I never know what he’ll say next, but I can’t help but be glad about this. “Me too, Easton. Me too.”