Life-I’ve lost count. Me-somewhere in the negatives.
Beth leaves her door open and moves around it to step up onto the sidewalk. She walks toward me, smiling and lifting her hand in a wave. “Hey. He wants to talk to you,” she says over the rumbling noise behind her. “I’ll meet you inside.”
I look from her face to the windshield, squinting. Huh. I wonder what this is about? “Uh, okay. Can you make sure Wendy puts out the fliers she made for the clothing drive? I want them on the tables before people start arriving.”
Beth nods when I meet her eyes again. “Yep. I’ll do that.”
“Thanks. I’ll be in in a sec.”
“Okay.”
We move past each other, and when I get close to Reed’s truck, moving to the left of it to get to the open passenger side door, I wave at him through the windshield.
He doesn’t wave back.
“Yo,” I nearly shout just as Reed is cutting off the engine. I tilt my head up and peer across the seat. “What’s up? I gotta get in there and delegate.”
“What the fuck, Riley,” he growls, his one arm bent, resting on the wheel, and his body angled, turned toward me and rigid against the leather.
I jerk back. “What? I’m not saying your wife can’t delegate. I’m just saying, that’s my job.”
“You’re living with CJ? How the fuck long has this been going on for?”
My mouth falls open. Panic floods me and causes my stomach to do a rollercoaster drop. “How do you know that?” I ask, voice so quiet I’m not sure Reed will be able to hear me.
His brows knit together. He’s hearing me. “You told me you are. What do you mean, how do I know that? You left me a message saying you’re living with him and in some sort of squad together, whatever the fuck that means.”
You know when you forget parts of your dream, important, crucial parts, and then somebody reminds you of these forgotten moments and you just want to pretend you’re not hearing them, these moments never happened, and you’ve suddenly gone deaf?
I blink and tilt my head to the side. “Huh?”
That’s happening to me right now.
Reed scowls. “You know, we could’ve cleared this up yesterday if you would’ve answered your phone the thirty times I called it, but you didn’t. So, before you go in and delegate, we’re clearing it up. How long?” he asks.
“I kept my phone off all day.”
“How long, Riley?” he presses.
I shrug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“How.” He leans over the seat. “Long.”
I pinch my lips together, pull in a deep breath, hoping it’ll relax me—it doesn’t—and confess my truth. “Since he got out of the hospital. I moved in the next day.”
“Are you serious? That was like, two months ago. What the fuck? Neither one of you thought I should know about it?”
“I asked CJ not to tell you. It isn’t his fault. Really. Please don’t be mad at him for it.” I watch Reed sit back and shake his head, as if he doesn’t believe me. “He thought you should know,” I add. “He wanted to tell you.”
“Why are you living with him?” Reed throws out. “If you needed a place to stay, you should've come to me. I'm your brother, Riley. You know I'll always help you out. Even if I didn't have room, I'd make room for you. Tell me you know that.”
My shoulders sag. I pull my lips between my teeth and nod my head.
Sometimes I forget how good of a man Reed is, and just how much I love having him as a big brother.
It sucks when he has to remind me.
“I know you would've made room for me,” I say, putting my hands on the edge of the passenger seat and stepping closer. “I know I could've come to you, but I didn't want to impose on you and Beth. You're newlyweds, Reed. You didn't need a third wheel.”
He jerks his chin, accepting my explanation. “Fine. But that still doesn't explain why CJ. You don't even know him.”
I flinch as if Reed's words literally slap me across the face. “I know him,” I hiss. “I know him just as well as you do, or Beth, or anybody else. And he knows me. We're tight.” I watch Reed's eyes narrow and the furrow in his brow deepen as he stares across the seat at me, and quickly realize I may want to reel this in a bit. I'm practically shouting. “I mean, you paired us up at the wedding,” I clarify, voice calm and easy listening level. “We got to know each other pretty quickly that weekend between all the festivities. And don't forget, CJ wouldn't be out of work if it wasn't for me. I dragged Richard to that concert. So when CJ offered me a place to stay, rent free in exchange for being his live-in nurse, I took it. I’m helping him. I owe him, Reed. He saved me that night. Who knows what would’ve happened if I would’ve left with Richard.”
Reed's nostrils flare as his lips press together, and I think maybe he's going to get on me about how aggressive I'm being in my defense, but he doesn't. He looks at the dash, rubs at his eyes with his hand relaxing off the wheel, thinks in silence for a breath, then turns his head back to me. And I recognize the look I'm getting now as the same look Reed gave me at the hospital.
It's a look of concern. That protective, brotherly look only Reed can give me.
“Every time I think about that night, I want to go find that asshole and kill him,” he says, shaking his head and looking away briefly before meeting my eyes again. “You doing all right with everything that went down? Richard’s going to be in jail awhile for assaulting a cop.”
“Good,” I bite out. “I hope he stays there and gets passed around between the big guys.”
Reed’s mouth twitches. He pushes his hand through his hair, saying, “I gotta be honest, I hate that you went through that, Riley, but I’m fucking ecstatic you’re not with him anymore.”
“I’m not surprised. You weren’t shy about hating him.”
“I won’t be shy about the next worthless piece of shit either. I’m going to make that fucker jump through hoops.”
My stomach knots up.
Reed smiles a little, but it does nothing to ease my lingering discomfort surrounding this topic. “So how come you couldn't tell me where you were living?” he asks. “What's the big secret?”
I swallow and feel my hands sliding off the seat. They fall to my side where my fingers curl under the bottom of my shorts. “I just didn’t think you would understand,” I reply.
“What’s there to understand? Is something else going on?”
I quickly shake my head. “No.” My answer is firm and louder than my previous ones. It’s also the truth. Nothing else is going on, but even if there was, I’m still worried how Reed would react. “I’m just helping him,” I say. “That’s it. We’re friends.”
I’m scared that’s all we’ll ever be.