Once inside my unit, I flopped down on my saggy bed and dialed Matt.
“Well if it isn’t my long lost sister,” he said, upon answering. I hadn’t spoken to him since the blow out at home before I flew out to Dallas, and didn’t miss the annoyance tinging his tone.
“I’m still not speaking to you,” I said.
He snorted. “I don’t think you understand what that means.”
Ugh. He was impossible.
“Well, considering you’re not trapped in a collapsed cave somewhere and you do have cell phone service, maybe you can explain why you didn’t bother to call and tell me Landon’s dad died?”
Silence filled the line. I waited, but he didn’t bother to fill in the blanks.
“Matt. Why not? Why are you so hell bent on keeping us apart?”
Matt made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. “Come on, Taryn. Have you even met his dad? He’s not worth grieving. Besides, why do you care?”
“Come on. You know why I care.”
“Oh, you mean because you’re fucking him?”
“Matt, knock it off. What happens between me and Landon isn’t your business. I’m not a kid anymore. I need you to stay out of it.”
“And yet you’re pissed I didn’t tell you about his dad. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”
Ugh. I could picture the smug look on his face as he spoke the words. “This shit matters to me, Matt.” I twisted a loose thread from the quilt around my finger. “You can’t keep it from me.”
“It’s not relevant,” he said.
The thread snapped. “Why do you think you get to decide what’s relevant? Quit withholding information. I’m getting sick of it.”
“You’re in Dallas, Taryn. It’s not like you can do anything.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
I hit the end button on my phone, cutting off the call. And then I dialed Annie.
“Hey,” she answered on the first ring. “I take it you got my text.”
“Yeah. Thanks for letting me know. I can’t believe Landon didn’t tell me himself. Or at least Matt.” I turned on my side, propping myself up on my elbows and staring at my empty suitcase in the nearby closet.
“Yeah,” she said, blowing out a long, slow breath. “The thing is, I ran into Landon in town, and he didn’t look so hot.”
“Like how?”
“Like he’d love a reason—any reason—for a fight.”
I groaned inwardly. That explained the how did Landon react question. “That bad?”
“Whatever you’re picturing, multiply it by a thousand. Pretty sure his dad’s death sent him on a war path, though god knows why. I thought the guy was supposed to be an asshole?”
“He was. He treated Landon like shit. You’d think he’d be happy that the guy croaked.”
“Apparently not.”
Silence fell on the line as I sorted through everything in my head. But it didn’t make sense. Landon should be relieved that he’d never have to deal with him again.
“The wake is tomorrow,” Annie said.
“That soon?”
“He died last weekend, so it’s the wake tomorrow and funeral on Saturday.”
“I see.” My mind was spinning, trying to figure out how I could make this work and not risk my internship.
“You going to come home for it?”
“Yes.” I said the word before I registered my own response.
I was going to fly home.
And then I was going to find Landon and figure out what the hell was going on with him.
Chapter 2
The flight back had seemed short, since I’d managed to sleep a large part of it. And now I was home again.
I always seemed to end up back here one way or another.
Annie dropped me at my house, but it was already dark. I set my luggage on the front porch, not willing to go inside and run into my brother. He’d just be pissed I left Texas and then he’d question me about what I was about to do. Considering I still didn’t know what I was going to say to Landon, I wouldn’t be able to explain it all to Matt.
I went to my car, firing it up and backing out of the drive. My heart climbed further in my throat with each mile, and by the time I was parked outside of Landon’s house, I could barely breathe.
This was Landon. The guy I’d known since I was ten.
And the guy who, three nights ago, fucked me in his hotel room.
And the guy who had lost his father and hadn’t bothered to tell me.
I hated that last part. Hated that in his most vulnerable moments, he hadn’t sought me out. Hadn’t wanted me to hold him.
I set the E-brake and turned the car off. Picking up my cell, I dialed him from the recent calls list on my phone. I’d been calling him half the day, but he’d never answered.
“What?” He asked, on the third ring.
“Landon?”
He didn’t reply. But then, it was a stupid question.
“I heard about your dad,” I finally said. “I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry over. It’s not a big loss.”
His voice was flat and cold, devoid of any emotion. Like he was talking about a profit and loss sheet, and not the death of his father.