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She wavered for a second, the softening of her face revealing that maybe this wasn’t entirely what she wanted. For that second, I had hope. Then, she looked down at her cast. What did her broken wrist have to do with anything? Was she looking at Gabe’s phone number? Did she like Gabe?
“Please leave.”
My shoulders slumped and I hung my head as I turned and walked out the door. That was it. I’d proven to Charlotte that I was the piece of shit I’d always known I was. She didn’t deserve this.
I drove away from the bakery in a fury. The more I thought about what happened that night at the bar, the angrier I grew. Shawn was the one at fault. He was the one who put his hands on her. He deserved to have his ass handed to him. Instead, I was the one who was being punished. Story of my fucking life.
By the time I got home, I’d worked myself up so much that I was sure steam was shooting out of my ears. As I stalked up the driveway, the front door opened and Chase trotted down the stairs.
“What’s your problem?” he asked with his disapproving look that I so badly wanted to wipe off his face.
Words would not form. My hands balled into fists at my sides as I approached him.
“You need to chill out.”
“You need to shut your fucking mouth,” I gritted through my teeth.
“You can’t go in there like this. Dad’s asleep on the recliner, and Khloe’s still awake. Whatever’s bothering you, you need to—”
I shoved him as hard as I could. He caught himself as he stumbled backwards. Chase was slightly bigger than me, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t still beat his ass—and he knew it.
“You need to calm the fuck down!” he shouted as he shoved me back.
That was all I needed. I slammed into his midsection, tackling him onto the grass. I mounted him and hurled my fist at his face, but he dodged out of the way. He tossed me off and tried scrambling to his feet, but I was quicker. I pushed him back onto the ground and held him down. This time, I won’t miss.
“You self-righteous motherfucker!” I was about to land my punch on his jaw when I heard my mother’s voice from the top of the stairs.
“Tanner!”
My fist hovered over my brother’s face as I glared down at him. All I wanted was one good shot.
“Tanner, don’t you dare!”
God-dammit. I slammed my fist into the grass beside Chase’s head, and I heard my mother suck in a breath.
I stood and left my brother on the ground.
“I don’t know what has gotten into you,” Mom said, her voice low. “But you’d better get control of yourself.”
I didn’t respond and I got back in my car.
Mom and Chase watched me pull out of the driveway, both wearing the same worried expression on their identical faces.
I was losing my father, and now I’d lost the girl I was starting to care for. Everything was so fucked up. Everyone kept telling me to get control of myself, but that was just the thing—I had no control over anything. No matter how hard I tried, nothing went my way.
The only place left to go was Big Nose Kate’s. When I took my usual seat at the bar, the bartender handed me a shot of whiskey and a bottle of beer. I downed the shot, asked for another, and downed that one, too.
“Rough night?”
I looked to my right to see who was stupid enough to try talking to me. A man I’d never seen before was sitting two stools over. He wore a backwards baseball cap, and he was covered in tattoos—knuckles, neck, everywhere but his face. He looked like a badass.
“You could say that.”
“Looks like it.” He nodded toward my swollen hand. “I just hope the other guy’s still alive.”
I laughed once. “Mom made sure of it.”
“Ah. Brotherly love.”
