Page 25 of Duress (Birch Falls #3)

DANE

“ H ey, Dad, can I stay at Jason’s house tonight? We’re gonna go to the game.” I wait as my dad stares at his computer, completely zoned out.

“Hello? Earth to Dad?” I lean over and wave my hand in front of his face.

Jerking in surprise, Dad leans back and slams the laptop shut before I can see what he’s looking at. “Where’d you come from?”

Smirking, I take a seat across from him at the table. “Mom’s vagina. I thought you knew that? Or do we need to have a talk about the birds and the bees?”

Mom comes up behind me and smacks the back of my head. “Technically you were an escape hatch baby. Your big head wouldn’t fit through my vagina even after two hours of pushing. You’re lucky you don’t have a cone head after being stuck in my birth canal for so long. ”

“Ew, Mom! Don’t say that!” I cover my ears with my hands and begin singing off-key.

“Technically you’re the one who brought up my vagina. Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“That’s not gonna be the last time a woman says that to you, son.”

“Dad!”

Sure, now he’s paying attention. Mom leans down and kisses Dad, and I make an exaggerated gagging sound at their gross PDA.

“What’s wrong, son? I thought you knew all about the birds and the bees?” Dad taunts.

“I don’t need to see my parents’ birds or bees co-mingling. Gross.”

Dad just smirks as he gropes Mom’s ass, and I bury my face in my hands.

“Ugh, just kill me now…”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” Mom rolls her eyes in my direction.

Truth is, I’m only mildly grossed out by my parents.

Mom was in an unhappy marriage when she met my dad, and my douchebag older brother’s dad treated her like crap.

She doesn’t talk about it, but I found her blog one time and read it.

She doesn’t know I read it. It hasn’t been updated in years.

I think it was a therapy thing or something; she stopped posting to it when I was in kindergarten.

I found it because I was bored one day and googled my mom’s name.

It was mostly poetry. Sometimes short stories or diary-like posts, but it was all sad.

She was unhappy when she was with Brian.

But then she stopped posting for a while before she started writing happier posts and stories.

The dates line up to when I was born and she and Dad got together.

So if Dad makes her happy, then I’ll deal with some gross parental PDA.

“Anyway, can I? Go to the game and stay at Jason’s?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll drop you off. I need to go see your brother anyway.”

“Will you be back for dinner, honey?” Mom is making that face at dad. The one that means they’re five seconds away from making out, so I jump up from my seat to leave the room.

“Should be. I’ll let you know if I’ll be late.” Kissing sounds follow me out of the room, and I roll my eyes. They’re worse than Jason and his girlfriend.

“Come on, Dad! The game starts soon! I don’t wanna miss kickoff!”

The next morning, a gentle hand shaking my shoulder pulls me from sleep. My head is pounding from lack of sleep. Jase and I stayed up until four in the morning playing Call of Duty. I don’t know what time it is, but it’s way too freaking early to be up.

“Huh… Whaaa?”

“Dane, sweetie. Wake up. Your mom just called. You need to get up.” Jason’s mom’s face comes into focus. The room is dark, and only a dim light is seeping from behind the curtains. It’s definitely still early .

“What’s going on?” I croak out, voice hoarse from too much hollering and shit-talking last night.

“I’m not sure, sweetie. Your mom just said something’s happened and you need to come home.”

I can tell from Mrs. Graham’s tone whatever happened is serious.

I kick off the blanket and sit up, fully awake now.

The Graham family has been my second family my entire life, and I know Mrs. Graham’s mannerisms and tone as much as my own mother’s.

The look on her face tells me everything I need to know.

When we pull up in front of my house, there is a police cruiser parked in the driveway where Dad’s truck should be. The sun has barely risen, and Dad doesn’t go to work on the weekends. Where is his truck? A sick feeling settles in my stomach. I must sit there, not moving, for a while.

“Hey, Dane. Do you need me to walk you in?” I look over at Mrs. Graham, and her eyes are full of concern. I shake my head, not wanting any witnesses to whatever bad news I’m walking into.

“No, no. I’ll be okay. Oh, look, see, Bryce is here.

” I point to my brother’s car that is pulling into the driveway.

No one outside of my family knows how much of a dick my older half brother Bryce is to me, so I use his appearance as an excuse to send Mrs. Graham on her way.

Fuck, if he’s here it must be really bad.

I hop out of the car as Bryce and his wife, Everly, get out of theirs.

Everly’s eyes are red and puffy; it looks like she’s been crying.

Bryce has dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, and he looks pale, like he’s sick .

“What’s going on?” I run up to Bryce and grab him by the arm. He flinches and pulls his arm out of my grip.

“You should go inside. Go find Mom.” His tone is flat and dismissive.

Everly throws him a side eye and comes up to put her arm around my shoulder. Her floral perfume wafts around me, momentarily distracting me. How my dickhead of a brother landed an angel like Everly, I’ll never know.

“Come on, Dane. You should hear this from your mom.” I let her guide me through the front door. We find Mom sitting in the living room, two uniformed cops standing over her hunched form. Her shoulders are shaking, and she is making the most inhuman, broken sound.

It’s the sound of someone’s heart shattering.

“Mom? Mom? What’s going on?” I collapse on my knees in front of her, gently pulling her hands away from her face. The look of heartbreak she gives me, is like a knife to the gut.

“Oh, baby. There was an accident. You-your father…” She chokes on a sob and can’t finish. She just pulls me into her arms, cradling my head against her chest as she holds me the way she used to when I was small.

She doesn’t have to say the rest. I know what happened.

My dad is dead.

It feels like time stops. My body forgets how to function.

My lungs forget how to breathe. Mom speaks, but I can’t hear the words she’s saying.

There’s a ringing in my ears drowning her out.

I can only feel the vibrations of her words and sobs as my cheek rests against her sternum, and the soft stroke of her fingers through my hair.

She used to play with my hair when reading me bedtime stories, and I feel like that little boy again as I cry into my mom’s soft flannel robe, that smells like her favorite gardenia lotion.

Slowly the ringing in my ears dissipates, and I hear a soft sob behind me.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see Everly, tears streaming down her face.

Her hand covers her mouth, stifiling her sobs.

Momentarily, I’m confused by how broken she looks over my dad’s death.

She didn’t know him well. Bryce has always kept his distance from us after leaving for college.

Everly turns her head toward Bryce, a pleading look in her eyes.

Like she’s telepathically begging him to do something that would somehow make this nightmare not real.

Bryce stands next to her, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, his face a blank mask.

He stares at our mother with cold indifference.

I never thought it was possible for me to dislike my brother more than I already do, but seeing the lack of emotion from him while our mother breaks in my arms turns dislike into hatred.