Outcome (Aftermath #2) (14 page)

"You really see yourself as a bad guy, don’t you?"

Remy shrugged. "I used to think I was decent, but the evidence speaks for itself." Chase didn’t know what the hell Remy was talking about, and it must've shown on his face. "Clarissa and Fred always hated me, my mom killed herself, and I obviously did something that made Ben hate me so much he kidnapped innocent people for it."

Halfway through that sentence, Chase was shaking his head, and he thought back to Cam's two cents about therapy. It didn’t have to be about healing. Sometimes a person just needed a new perspective.

Remy needed that, too. Clearly.

"And you blame yourself for the whole funding thing, too?" Chase only wanted clarification, which he got when Remy nodded. "Right. Did it ever occur to you that it's not normal to suspect your half brother of being a criminal?"

Remy frowned. "What do you mean?"

Chase was beginning to grow impatient, but it was because he felt they were close to some kind of breakthrough. "You said that if you'd only asked Ben what he was doing with the money… Seriously, Remy, do you think he'd have told you the truth?"

"Of-fucking-course not." Remy rolled his eyes.

"So, you were supposed to
assume
he was doing something shady?" Chase cocked a brow and took a sip of his water. "Seems to me like you'd be a pretty shitty brother if you walked around and judged your family guilty of kidnapping and murder without reason."

The cabin went quiet, and Remy stared at his lap, his face frozen in a frown. Mind spinning, maybe? Chase could only hope.

*

Hours later, Chase was getting antsy.

Andreas would be here any minute, and Chase could count the words Remy had spoken since lunch on two hands. Packed and ready to go, he left his bike and joined Remy in the cabin, finding him tidying up the kitchen table.

"You sure you're okay?" It was the third time Chase had asked something similar since they'd eaten.

He didn’t expect to be privy to all of Remy's thoughts, but he needed a gesture—something that said Remy wanted Chase to come back. Soon.

Remy stopped what he was doing and nodded jerkily, then just stared at his feet. "A lot on my mind."

Farther down the mountainside, Chase could hear the rumbling of a vehicle coming closer. Judging by the slight stiffening of Remy's shoulders, he heard it, too.

Chase felt the moment slipping through his fingers and approached without caution, his main priority Remy, not discretion or playing it cool.

"Hey." He lifted Remy's chin and slid his fingers up Remy's jaw. "Whenever you wanna talk, whenever you wanna see me…"

Distress caused a small crease between Remy's brows. "It feels wrong—" He swallowed audibly, seemingly having a hard time speaking, and Chase's hand fell away again. "To unload my issues on you, I mean. Should be the other way around." He puffed out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. "You said you had questions, but—you've barely asked any. Everything's been about my bullshit."

"We have time, don’t we? We can focus on my bullshit whenever." Chase tried to make light of it.

Remy managed half a smile, and if Chase wasn’t mistaken, there was a pinch of relief in his features. "Can you come back tomorrow?"

It was a joke, but it was also the gesture Chase wanted. This was it. This was the closest thing Remy would ever get to saying,
"Can you please help me?"

Once again, Chase was reminded of how similar they could be, how stubbornly they could refuse asking for help.

A plan formed in his head, and he decided to call Minna when he came home. "You're not gonna run back to LA first chance you get?"

"I don't think I'll even be tempted as long as I have more holding me back."

It wasn’t a naïve
"No,"
and Chase appreciated the honesty, something tightening in his chest. In an automatic response, he drew closer and tilted his head, only to freeze and hesitate.

Draw the line as friends, for fuck's sake. You don’t need to get more involved. You're already in deep shit as it is, man.

As he battled with himself, he searched Remy's eyes, finding them greener than ever and swimming of apprehension and anticipation. The last straw was when Remy wet his bottom lip. Chase closed the distance and kissed him, his hands moving up and into Remy's hair.

Remy hooked his fingers into Chase's belt and tugged their lower bodies together, at which Chase groaned quietly—outta pure lust and something oddly akin to relief. But he didn’t read into that. Instead he deepened the kiss and swept the tip of his tongue between Remy's parted lips. One little flick over his piercing, and then Remy was there with his own tongue.

Oh yeah, Chase was in deep shit here. Every desire he'd struggled against for so long had returned with a vengeance, and they were only magnified with Remy.

Only the sound of a car door slamming shut made Chase draw back, and even that… Fuck, he reluctantly took a step back and tried to catch his breath.

Instinct told him to
not
have his back to the new arrival. That had already happened once before, the final nail in the coffin that had turned Chase's life into a cautionary tale.

He forced himself to appear casual; he even managed to land a quick kiss to Remy's forehead. Then he turned for the door as reality snuck up and bit him in the ass.

"We'll talk soon," he promised before making his exit.

Being tucked away in this little corner that God had forgotten was causing Chase to make some fucked-up decisions. Like fucking a man. Sleeping with him and loving it. Kissing him seconds before they wouldn’t be alone anymore.

His previous surrender still lingered as he nodded hello to Andreas, who was leaning casually back against his car. But even if Chase had caved with Remy and savored every second of it didn’t mean the ghost of his entire upbringing had evaporated.

Would he
ever
be able to share his life with someone without fearing hell and grisly conditions?

"How is he?" Andreas straightened.

Chase looked back toward the cabin and fiddled with his key. He didn’t have to talk to Minna, did he? Andreas was standing right here; Chase might as well talk to him.

"Remy is…"
A beautiful fucking mess who wants to get better but is afraid he can't.
And Chase had no business getting emotionally attached. Or fucking him. "Progressing," he settled for, looking back at Andreas. "We've had a few run-ins—" Chase cleared his throat, thinking about the different
kinds
of "run-ins" he'd had with Remy. "He's got one hell of a temper, but…" Andreas's mouth quirked up in a wry smile. "Remy's coming around," Chase said firmly. "He's started to open up, and easing him back into the world of the living wouldn’t be wrong."

That seemed to catch Andreas's interest.

Chapter 16

Cam stepped outside and let the door to the bar close behind him. The sun had finally set, and he lit a smoke and looked up at the sky painted in pink, purple, and orange.

Austin had told Chase again and again that he didn’t have to close the bar for a night to have some people over for dinner, but Cam wasn’t gonna say no to a bar free of people. And pizza and beer? Only a fool would turn that down.

He sure as hell didn’t feel that Chase owed them anything for "everything they'd done," as he'd put it, but it was nice to get outta the house for a night and not have to worry about crowds or drunk motherfuckers who didn’t know what personal space was.

Blowing out some smoke, Cam heard the door open, and he looked over his shoulder to see Adriana joining him.

Chase's little sister had apparently arrived today and was gonna spend the weekend in Bakersfield. Majoring in business or whatever, she had a lot in common with Austin—and the two got along well—so Cam was a little confused about her following him now. But the way her blue eyes fell to his smoke gave him a clue.

He let his cigarette dangle between his lips as he searched his pockets for the pack. Then he raised a brow and extended the smokes, to which Adriana bit her lip and widened her eyes, quickly shaking her head.

"I can't—I mean, I don’t smoke."

Cam snorted in amusement and pocketed his smokes again. "If you say so."

He took another drag and eyed the curvy brunette. Her skin tone was a couple shades darker than Chase's, as was her long, curly hair. It was her eyes that gave away the relation. She was pretty—and a shitty fucking liar. "If it's somethin' you're keepin' from Chase, you might wanna work on your acting."

Adriana made a face and looked down. "He'd go ballistic if he knew."

"He used to smoke," Cam pointed out. They'd even shared one when they'd been in the hospital together three years ago. 

"Um, yeah. Then I played the guilt card and made him quit." Adriana faced him with a sheepish smile, and Cam chuckled. "In my defense, I thought I'd lost him, you know. Back when you guys were…" She trailed off at the word kidnapped. Or taken. Or whatever-the-fuck.

Cam's shoulders stiffened. He hoped like hell the girl didn’t wanna make small talk about that clusterfuck. They didn’t even know each other.

"Anyway…" That was better. Adriana changed the topic. "The reason I came out here was because I wanted to ask you how my brother's doing." Her face grew serious. "He's told me about you, and I got the impression you're the one least likely to sugarcoat things."

Cam considered her words and took a drag from the smoke. If she'd asked before today, he would've told her that Chase always struck him as closed off and tired. Austin had mentioned wary and lonely too, but Cam didn’t see anything wrong with being around fewer people. Hell, all he needed was Austin and their daughter, and Cam was all set. But, as Austin had pointed out, not everyone was as introverted as Cam was.

Regardless, that was before today.

Something had obviously happened with Chase after spending so much time with the Stahl guy. All throughout dinner, Chase was checking his phone and looking at the clock above the bar. At the same time, he'd also talked more.

"You should ask him about Remy," Cam said eventually.

"Remy Stahl?" Adriana nodded. "Chase told me they've been talking." She seemed to wanna know more, though. From Cam.

He suppressed a sigh and stubbed out his cigarette. "Sorry, hon. I'm not the right man to ask. Austin can probably tell you more. All I know is it's probably a good thing for Chase and Stahl to talk. Their problems are kinda connected."

Adriana averted her eyes and nodded again, this time more pensively. "I wonder if he's met someone."

"He has." Cam knew that much. "He's called Gale—the therapist we all used back then." He and Austin still went every now and then, but it wasn’t often. "Austin told me Chase has his first session after the weekend."

"That’s good news—I'm glad." Adriana smiled genuinely before it morphed into a smirk. "But I was talking about a romantic-type of 'met someone.'" Oh. Well, what the fuck did Cam know? "I swear I heard him laughing in his office earlier, and that’s definitely new."

"Right." Cam didn’t know what else to say, but if Chase was getting better, then great. "We should get back in."

"Oh, of course." Adriana stepped aside as Cam grabbed the door handle. "By the way, Riley asked me if I could paint her nails. Is that all right?"

Cam grimaced, having never liked makeup—and sure as fuck not on thirteen-year-olds—but he knew it was part of the whole growing-up crap.

"Keep it girly," he muttered.

He and Austin were lucky that Riley was mostly a tomboy, but she had her princess moments. And Cam could deal with a little pink and a little glitter. It beat slutty red and black.

It was only a matter of months, maybe a year, before Riley would need to buy her first bra.

Cam wasn’t ready for that shit.

Maybe it could happen during one of the rare occasions Jade had time for Riley. Or maybe it was Riley who didn’t have time for her mom? Whatever, something always tended to come up whenever the two had plans, and neither seemed upset about it.

Returning to their table, Cam sat down next to Austin, while Adriana headed over to the dart board where Riley was practicing.

The guys were talking about Donna's living situation. A verbally abusive boyfriend was involved, and he'd refused to leave her apartment. Now he had finally left town, but he'd trashed her home.

"Does he still have a key to her place?" Austin asked.

Chase shook his head. "No. I went over there yesterday and changed the locks for her. Installed a chain lock, too."

"That’s good." Austin nodded and leaned back, his hand finding Cam's thigh. "Speaking of, have you found a place of your own yet?"

Cam tilted his head, sensing the discomfort Chase was trying to hide. He linked his fingers with Austin's and gave his hand a squeeze.
Enough, baby
.

In general, Austin wasn’t the kind of man who had to fix every problem, but he considered Chase a close friend these days, and Austin always took care of his own.

Same could be said for Cam, only on a smaller scale. They complemented each other well in that respect; when Cam closed himself in and only cared for his immediate family, Austin coaxed him out. And now, in this case, Cam drew Austin back just a bit.

They'd concluded that Chase slept in his office, and Cam doubted Chase was a fan of the topic.

"I apologize. Didn’t mean to pry—"

Chase cut Austin off with a quick shake of his head. "It's okay, man." He rubbed the back of his neck and managed a faint grin. "My search's been kinda half-assed so far. I'm good where I am for now, and Ade still has her room with the Thompsons over in Seven Oaks."

Cam frowned at that—first time he'd ever heard that name—but Austin seemed to know.

"Ade's foster parents," Chase explained to Cam. "When our folks died, she was still underage, so they placed her in a foster family 'til she turned eighteen. Good people. I don’t talk to them much, but they view Ade as a niece or somethin'."

Cam inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Better watch out so Riley doesn't force Adriana to come home with us instead." He jerked his chin to another table where Adriana was painting Riley's fingernails. Cam scrunched his nose at the smell of nail polish that made its way several feet over.

Chase chuckled and looked away from his sister and Riley, back to Cam and Austin. "Her backup plan was always to work with kids, so I'm not sure Ade would mind."

Cam wouldn’t mind, either. Considering how rarely Riley saw her mom, both Cam and Austin encouraged more interaction with good, female role models. Jules, Cam's sister-in-law, adored Riley and often included her in everyday errands to "get away from the boys," which Riley got a kick out of. Additionally, Cam preferred it when Riley painted Jules's nails instead of his.

Purple just wasn’t his color.

*

Close to midnight, Cam and Austin had found a babysitter in Adriana, who didn’t say no when Riley asked if she wanted a sleepover with movies and girl talk. While Austin helped the ladies set things up in the living room, Cam left the house to walk Bourbon and Nacho.

The neighborhood was silent and bathed in a dim glow from the streetlamps.

It was when Cam headed back he heard something that didn’t fit. He squinted in the poor light and saw a guy lurking by the kitchen window of Remy's house, tapping anxiously on the glass.

Nacho was already alert. Though, despite his guard instincts being better than Bourbon's, he was a damn Chihuahua. Nobody took that seriously. Bourbon was the goof, but he was a big Husky and trained to fake better than a woman.

Cam's first thought was that the lurker planned on breaking in, scoring money or whatever for drugs, but he could also be a
friend
of Stahl's.

Cam had heard of Remy's lifestyle choices, and the motherfucker peering into the kitchen window fit the bill of a clichéd addict. Hoodie a couple sizes too large, shoulders bunched up, twitchy mannerisms, and pants that were about to fall down his scrawny frame.

"Can I fucking help you?" Cam asked, slowly and casually crossing the street.

The dude jumped and turned, flashing an image of a greasy forehead, bad skin that belonged to a meth head, and a gaze that flicked all over the place.

"I'm—I'm looking for Remy Stahl." Twitchy sniffled and stumbled out of the front yard. "Do you know him? Trent wants him back in-in LA."

If that was a life Stahl was trying to get away from, Cam kinda wanted to pound in this motherfucker's skull.

Pissed, he tilted his head to Bourbon. "Warn," he commanded quietly. Bourbon stiffened and started growling, his teeth bared. Cam's gaze slid back to Twitchy, and he cocked a brow. "Wanna see what else he can do?"

Twitchy got spooked and showed his palms in surrender. "Look, I'm only a messenger—"

"I don’t give a shit," Cam snapped. "Remy doesn’t even live in that house." Lie, truth, or a little bit of both, Cam didn’t know, but he was glad the woman who did live there wasn’t home. "Get the fuck outta here, and if I see you in this neighborhood again…"

Twitchy took another glance at a growling Bourbon before he hightailed it to his rusty truck and drove away.

"Good boy." Cam patted Bourbon on his head and rolled his eyes at Nacho's
"What about me?"
look. "Yeah, you too. Good boy."