Page 16

Chapter 16

RYLAN

M y hands won't stop shaking as I read Wally's latesttextin the long string of texts from the owner of the bar in town where Dad likes to drink.

Wally: He's talking about Nick again.

Wally: Trying to pick fights.

Fuck. The situation is heading downhill fast. The firsttextonly came in while we were on the bus back to the hotel. If Dad'stryingto start shit with other people already, it's going to be a rough night.

The familiar vice grip of panic tightens around my chest.Jamie'shoveringcloseenough for me to smell his post-game body wash, but not quite touching. Always so respectful of my boundaries.

My phone vibrates twice more.

Wally: He just broke a tray of glasses. Not sure it was an accident.

Wally: Had to take his keys. He's not happy.

Iclosemy eyes, drawing in a careful breath. Control. Order. I can handle this. It's what I do. What I've always done.

"Rylan?"

Jamie'svoice is concerned. When I open my eyes, he's watching me with an intensity that makes my stomach drop. He knows toomuch— because I told him toomuch —about Nick, about Dad. About me. One night of weakness and now I can't hide anymore.

"I need to make some calls."I grab my laptop bag."I'll be in thebusinesscenter."

"Rylan."His tone stops me at the door."You don't have to do this by yourself. I canhelpyou."

My throat tightens, and Ialmostturn back.Almostletmyself indulge in the overwhelming sense of relief I felt that one night when I was able toletgo. When I allowed Jamie tohelpme carry my heavy burdens for a little while.

My phone buzzes again.

I shake my head."I—I gotta go."

Thebusinesscenteris mercifully empty. I choose the computer furthest from the door, my mechanical movements buying me time to think and plan. To try to wrench back some control.

My phone buzzes. And buzzes. And buzzes.

Wally: Tried watering down his drinks but he noticed.

I rest my forehead against the cool wood of the desk. Think.

I pull up my email, clicking through to my contact list.Lou'sdad,Paul, is normally who I would call when my father goes on a bender like this, butPauland Jenny Tremblay, moved to Palm Springs earlier this year. Theywantedto be closer to their daughter,Lou'ssister, Caley.Paulfelt terrible when hetoldme about their decision to relocate, but Jesus, it's not like mydad'sdrinkingshouldbe their problem. They've saved my ass, and probably mydad'slife, more times than I can count over the years.

I knew Ishouldhave put some kind of emergency plan in place for this, but I stuck my fucking head in the sand. Iwantedto believeDadwhen hetoldme he was cutting back. So I let it go. And now that he's fallen off the wagon, I don't know who I'm going to call for help.

My fingers hover over the keyboard. Maybe I couldtrycallingDad.Tryto talk him down. But the thought of hearing his voice, slurred, angry, and full of grief makes my chest squeeze tight.

There's a soft knock at the door, and I know it'sJamiebeforeI look up.

He's standing in the doorway of the business center, holding two cups of tea from the lobby coffee shop. His simple act of kindness hits me right in the gut.

"I heard you tell Louis that you've been drinking chamomile when you're stressed..."He trails off, setting one cup beside my keyboard."I can go."

"Jamie."His name slips outbeforeI canstopit. He pauses, those blue eyes searching my face. Ishouldsend him away so I cankeepmy distance.Keepour relationship strictly professional: neat and clean and controlled.

Myphonelights up, and this time it's a call from Wally.

Jamie's expression shifts."Want privacy?"

Ishouldsay yes. Instead, I reach out and grab his wrist, my fingers curling around his warm skinbeforeI canstopmyself.

He pulls up the chair next tomine, close enough that his shoulder presses againstmine."I'm here. Whatever you need."

I answer thephone, and for the first time tonight, my handsstopshaking.

"I'm so sorry, Rylan."Wally's gravellyvoiceis full of sorrow."I tried to cut him off, but he started throwing things, and I had to call the cops. I had no choice."

"You did the right thing."My Captain'svoicecomes out steady."Is Constable Mitchell there?"

A rustling sound, then:"Hey, kid."Dave Mitchell's familiar drawl. He coached my peewee team a lifetime ago. He was also one of the officers who came to our door the night Nickdied."Your dad's safe. We've got him in the cruiser. Karen's bringing him some coffee."

Jamie's shoulder presses into mine.

"Does he need to go to the drunk tank?"I ask. It's the same dance we've been doing since Momdied. Because everyone in town knows mydad, and he's not dangerous when he drinks, we can often avoid the overnight stay in the local RCMP detachment, but some nights there's no choice.

"Actually, Rylan… Yourdadtook a bit of a fall right before we got here. Knocked his headprettygood on the bar. I think he's fine, but I want to take him over to the clinic to get him checked out, just to be on the safe side."

The room tilts slightly, and I close my eyes so I don't tip over. Jamie's big arm wraps around my shoulders.

"How bad is it?"

"I don't think it was serious. He seemsprettycoherent. It's only a precaution, I promise. I'll give you a shout once we know what the doc wants to do,okay?"

"Um, yeah,okay."My voice sounds weird to my ears. It's like I'm hearingmyselffrom underwater or something.

"Try not to worry too much, Rylan. I'llcallyou with an update as soon as I can, alright?"

"Okay, yes. Thank you."I say, and end thecallbeforemy control slips completely. Jamie's warm hand rubs gentle circles on my shoulder, andbeforeI can stopmyself, I'm leaning against him, allowing him to support some of my weight. Just for a minute.

"Come on,"he says quietly."Let's go back to the room"

"I should—"

"You can't do anything else until the copscallyou back."His voice is soft but firm."He's safe, he's going to be checked over by the doctor. Let's go back to the room."

Ishouldargue. I need topull away, thank him for his concern, and deal with this on my own. But I don't do any of that.

Instead, I let Jamie lead me to the elevator and back upstairs to our room with his hand warm against my lower back.

Just for tonight, I tell myself. After this, I'll go back to dealing with things on my own. Like I always do.

We're only back in our room a few minutes when my cell rings, Constable Dave Mitchell's name flashing onto my screen—and I don't want to think about why I have the local RCMP officer's cell phone number programmed into my contacts.

"Hey, kid."Dave's voice is gentle in a waythatmakes my stomach clench.

"What did the doctor say?"I choke out, terrified.

"Your dad's going to be fine, Rylan. Doc Matthews wants to keep him overnight for observation. It'sjusta precaution. They're going to patch up the cut over his eye and let him sleep it off. We got lucky tonight, they have an available bed."

Yeah. Lucky. Constable Mitchell doesn't say the other part, though:thatmy dad getting admitted to the hospital means he won't have to he won't have to suffer the indignity of spending the night in the drunk tank. Again.

"Okay. Right."I say closing my eyes and swallowing hard.

"But Rylan... this is the third time this month. Something's gonna give soon if—"

My chest tightens."I know."I clear my throat before continuing."Thanks for your help. I'm going to have to make some arrangements with my team, but I'll be home as soon as I can."

"Okay, Ry. You take care, kid."Dave's voice softens."Your mom would be proud of you, you know."

"Thanks,"I manage to choke out again."I'll be there as soon as I can get a flight."