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Chapter Seven
Tyler
I believe Zane.
I believe something real fucking bad happened to him. I said that, didn’t I?
Yet Ash is glaring at me like I kicked him in the balls. I know what he’ll say. That he’s known Zane for a lot longer than I have, that they’ve been through a lot together, that he’s privy to more and better information than I am, and can therefore make a better call.
So let’s have it. “Spit it out, Ash, before you fucking choke on it. What’s gotten your panties in a bunch?”
“How can you doubt him? He’s been through hell!” Ash points at the empty hallway Zane disappeared through. “People don’t make shit like that up.”
See, I knew it.
“Never said he made it up, kiddo. Said his mind could have made memories up to explain how he feels about those years of his childhood.”
“That’s bullshit,” Ash mutters. “You don’t know…” He swallows hard, shoots a guilty glance at the hallway. “You don’t fucking know everything. How he was before he met Dakota. With sex. He couldn’t face anyone… anyone he slept with, okay? Wouldn’t kiss them. Wouldn’t let them touch him. Touch the scars on his back. He’d flip out real bad.”
Goddammit. Sexual abuse? This is so much worse than I thought.
“I didn’t know any of that.” I swallow hard. This does seem like a piece to the puzzle. “Again, I never said he didn’t go through something bad. I’m only saying we need to sort out what he remembers or thinks he remembers before we take action.”
Ash gives a grudging nod. “Fine. As long as we look into this.”
“Damn right we will.”
Ash relaxes marginally.
Christ, did he really think I was gonna give up, pretend everything’s in Zane’s head?
Zane, the guy who practically took me in when I arrived to this town, sick in my head and alone, with my brother and Erin hating me for vanishing that long ago, and gave me a job? A job, and his friendship, and a family bigger and warmer than any I had ever had. Who gave me a chance. The guy who took care of my brother and Erin before I came back. Who always takes care of everyone but himself.
“We will find out what really happened,” Dylan mutters. “Like you said. Tease the real facts apart from the dreams.”
“But not now, not tonight,” I say, g
lancing at the kids and taking Erin’s hand again. “Let’s do it at the shop. Tomorrow.”
And it seems what I’ve said tonight, my hinting that I’ve faced similar doubts about the sanity of my mind, has cast me as the leader of this investigation.
Or it has become obvious I’m the biggest basket-case in the room and therefore best suited for this task.
Yeah, well, not contesting that. It’s probably true.
Everyone nods their agreement to the plan. Even my girl who I bet is dying to run to Zane’s side and consequences be damned, just nods at me.
“Help him, Ty.” She swallows hard. “In this…I’m not sure I can.”
The fact she trusts me to take care of her friend—our friend—sends a rush of warmth through my chest.
“I will.” I squeeze her hand even as nerves turn my stomach into a hard ball. “I’ll do all I can to help him. I swear it.”
***
Mondays are usually booked up midday to evening, and today is no exception.
Which means it’s well after nine by the time I put up the Closed sign on the shop door. By the time I call the guys to come down here to talk, Erin texted me ten times asking what went down, Ash texted twice and called once, and Dylan passed by and left again with a frown on his face.
