Outcome (Aftermath #2) (5 page)

Given their shared past, it was a valid fear.

Austin also doubted Chase was still in therapy. Cam and Austin didn’t go often, but they made an appointment with Gale every now and then. Just to be safe. It provided some stability and comfort.

"You're gonna go." Cam smirked wryly at him. Austin's own amusement was tinged with sheepishness.
He knows me too well
. "It's cool," Cam chuckled. "Go do your good deed for the day. I'll entertain my brother until you return. And—" He cut off there, his gaze catching something outside.

When Austin peered out the door, he saw Riley coming closer on her bicycle, Nacho peeking up from her little basket in the front. Automatically, Austin checked his watch, only to realize he hadn't put it on after his shower.

Cam did it instead. "The baby girl's fifteen minutes late." He huffed then faced the inside of the house, or more correctly, the patio. "Bourbon!" That dog was always in the backyard.

Austin grinned at the plan he knew Cam had. Bourbon had eaten something he shouldn’t have, and whatever it had been, it had caused diarrhea. Austin would bet his life that Riley's punishment for being late entailed taking Bourbon for a walk.

But that was the deal. Riley was absolutely awful at keeping track of time; it had gotten to the point where she was late to school and missed classes after recess. Cam and Austin had been called to her school twice about the issue, so they were strict about that now.

Donna stepped aside slightly as Riley reached the driveway.

Austin and Cam folded their arms across their chests.

"Before you get mad!" Riley exclaimed, jogging over with Nacho in her arms. "Dad. Dad." She gave Donna a quick glance. "Stranger." Then back to Austin and Cam. "I have a
really
good excuse."

"And I wanna hear all about it," Cam drawled as he snatched up Bourbon's leash. "Later."

Riley's face fell. "Oh, no," she whispered. "Does he still have the runs?"

Cam grinned. "Oh yes, sweetheart."

Austin chuckled and pocketed his wallet from the hallway table. The sun still blazed, so he grabbed his Ray-Bans, too. He put on his shoes next and hung the towel among the jackets. "I'll be home soon." He leaned in and kissed Cam chastely, but before he could move away, Cam kissed him again. Hard.

When it ended, Cam whispered in Austin's ear. "If Blondie crosses a line, I'll be pissed."

Austin backed away, puzzled.

Which only seemed to amuse Cam. "You have no clue, baby." He laughed through his nose and shook his head. It sort of ended the conversation—before it could even begin—and he focused on Riley after that.

Since Austin was hungry as hell, he left the house, praying he could return quickly. Hopefully with Chase in tow. "Like I said, I'll be home soon." He dropped a kiss to the top of Riley's head then nodded down the road, and Donna followed.

He slid on his shades.

The two walked in silence for only a few seconds before Austin fired off the first question.

"I take it Chase didn’t send you?"

Donna shook her head minutely. "I saw a Post-it with your name and address in his office. I knew you guys're friends, and I'm worried about him, but I don’t know him well enough yet."

Austin hummed, frowning to himself. "Perhaps I should give Adriana a call." She'd given him her number with a hopeful smile one day when he'd mentioned he might be able to get her an internship at the main office in LA. "How long has this been going on?"

It couldn’t have been that long. The opening of Chase's bar had only been last weekend, and Austin had even spoken to him on the phone a few days ago when they'd made plans for tonight. 

"Since that guy showed up." Donna scrunched her nose. "Three days? No, four. Yeah."

"What guy?" It bothered Austin that he knew so little about Chase. Made it more difficult to help. Though, he did know Chase's family was near non-existent. It was really only Chase and his sister, and Austin had never heard him mentioning friends.

Chase was very introverted and circumspect, but Austin didn’t believe it came without reason. He'd seen glimpses of a man who wanted more interaction, especially the times Austin and Cam had visited the bar before it opened. It was almost as if Chase forced himself to remain aloof—indifferent.

"I've never seen him before," Donna replied. "At first, I thought he was some psycho 'cause he showed up in only underwear." Austin's brows shot up in surprise and confusion. "Yeah. I didn’t catch the entire—whatever it was that happened, and before I knew it, this guy was stumbling and stuttering apologies, and Chase looked… God, I've never seen anyone so mad."

Austin pressed his lips together in a thin line, suspicion creeping down his spine. "Did this guy have a lot of tattoos, by any chance?" At the end of the lane, they waited to cross a larger street, and Austin could see Chase's bar a few buildings into the next neighborhood.

"He did, yeah." Donna glanced up at Austin. "Do you know him? He had, like, dark hair, piercings—kinda short?"

Austin nodded firmly. He was fairly certain now it was Remy Stahl. "A ghost from the past." He smiled faintly, no desire to share more than Chase was comfortable with. Hell, Austin wasn’t exactly comfortable with their past, either.

Chapter 6

Chase had just finished serving the group of four bikers at the bar when Donna entered the establishment.
Right. She stepped out for her break
. Chase had almost forgotten.

What surprised him was that Austin trailed in after her.

Walking down to the end of the bar, Chase met Austin there, only the bartop separating them. In the meantime, Donna got back to work right away.

"How you doin', man?" Chase smiled carefully, curious about the visit.

"Can't complain, my friend. Can't complain." Austin looked around himself as he pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head. His hair was damp, as if he'd just walked outta the shower. "How are you?" Austin's eyes slid back to Chase.

"I'm…" A lie was at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t do it. His mouth suddenly felt dry, his throat thick. "I, uh, I don’t know." He looked away and ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends. He'd been doing that a lot lately.

If time could be divided into puzzle pieces, he was missing several. How long had Donna been gone? And wasn’t Chase just in his office working on the books?

Then he remembered; his office had felt too stale and suffocating. Remy's letters were like a fire, and Chase was drawn to the burn.

He couldn’t shake the queasiness.

Or the memory of Remy's face.

"Chase."

Chase whipped around, his gaze settling on Austin again. Who was here. With what looked like concern creasing his forehead.

"Um. Beer?" That was a reasonable question.

"No, thank you." Austin frowned and rested his elbows on the counter. "You don’t look very well." Chase stared at him blankly. Austin seemed to debate something with himself. Before he dropped the bomb. "Has Remy been here?"

With that bomb, Chase's stomach dropped, too. His eyes flicked over to Donna, who was suddenly the picture of forced innocence. Glancing back, he met Austin's firm nod. Confirmation. Yes, he had spoken to Donna. Or Donna had spoken to Austin. And they came here together.

"Can we speak in private, Chase?"

Chase kept staring for a moment then nodded numbly.

*

Chase sat in his swivel chair, fidgeting, as Austin occupied the couch and read through Remy's letters.

Having been unable to keep everything bottled up, Chase had used a minimal amount of words and had chosen to reveal the letters instead. He'd managed to tell Austin about Remy's accidental visit, and Austin had made it clear he stopped listening when Chase had started lying, stating that he was okay. It was just a lot to process. He'd be back in shape in no time. A bit under the weather was all.

His embarrassment had caught up to him, hence the easy waterfall of fabricated truth. He had no right to be this distraught over a few fucking letters when Austin had once been stabbed.
And look at Austin now
. He was fine. 

Chase's knee bounced. His fingers drummed on the desk. His foot tapped on the floor.

"Jesus Christ, Chase." Austin shook his head slowly, eyeing the letters in his hands. "You haven't opened up to
anybody
about these?"

Bounce, drum, tap
.

Chase forced himself to shrug.
Be casual. Stand on your own two feet without help
. "Nah." But he knew without a doubt that Austin could see through his act this time. "Ade knows they exist, but not what's in them." Maybe if he kept talking, it would get easier. Maybe his breathing would even out. Maybe his eyes would stop stinging.

Look at me.

Fucking pathetic.

Bounce, drum, tap-tap-tap-tap.

The silence stretched on, appearing interminable when it probably only lasted a few seconds.

Austin faced him again, serious. "You have to talk to someone about this, and I'd actually suggest you turn to Remy."

"I know." Chase's answer was automatic, spoken before he'd even registered Austin's words. "Wait, what?" He'd fully expected Austin to tell him to get over it and stop acting weak.

For fuck's sake, he was almost forty years old. That he couldn’t keep his shit together only brought him shame. He wasn’t looking for understanding or acceptance.

"Are you seeing Gale anymore?" Austin went on patiently, and Chase shook his head no.
God, no
. There was nothing to talk about. "You should," Austin pointed out. "Cam and I still go."

That shocked the hell outta Chase. His expression gave it away, too.

Austin chuckled and looked down at the letters again. "Not often, but yes. It's a nice security blanket, as Cam calls it." He smirked when he faced Chase once more. "And contact Remy. I think you could both benefit from it." He held up a letter. "He was obviously struggling back then, and maybe he still is."

Chase stared down at his lap, internally searching for the anger he'd lived on since he'd received Remy's letters. It simmered when he needed it to boil so badly.

But Remy hadn't been completely real until now. He'd been an idea, a villain in a comic book—easy to hate, easy to blame. Even if Chase hadn't actually blamed Remy for anything in a very long time, it had been hatred by association. Remy was related to Ben; therefore, he was a bad guy.

Too bad it didn’t work like that in real life. Now that Chase had actually met Remy, heard his voice, seen the pain he was in, things had changed.

Every fiber of him was reluctant to contact Remy and see him again—even more so to ask for help, or demand it—but Chase couldn’t exactly go on like this anymore.

"I—" He cleared his throat. "I think I need to get that over with before I regret it."
Or chicken out
. He met Austin's gaze hesitantly, letting out a breath of relief when there was no judgment in his eyes. "Maybe the woman who's renting his house knows where he is…?"

"It's possible." Austin nodded. "And seeing Gale again?"

"I'll think about it." It was the best Chase could offer right now.

A slow smile spread across Austin's lips. "Well…" Folding the letters, he placed them next to himself on the couch. "There's no time like the present. Remy's house happens to be on my street—as you know. Donna seems quite capable of manning the bar for a while, and your only plan for the evening was supposed to be a barbecue at our place."

Chase blinked.
Barbecue
. What was he…oh, goddammit. He'd talked to Austin. Chase remembered. Landon would be there too, with his wife and twin daughters.

"That was tonight?" He tugged at the ends of his hair, feeling like shit.

"Don’t worry about it." Austin chuckled as he stood up. "You have a lot on your mind." He paused, offering a small smirk. "I'm guessing that’s why you missed your appointment with Landon today, too."

"For the love of—" Chase cursed himself. The reminder was taped to the frame of his computer screen.
Ten o'clock, Nash's Auto Service
. The original plan had been to fix up his '37 Knucklehead this summer, restore it, and give it a paint job, but he couldn’t muster up any enthusiasm for it at the moment.

*

Chase walked the now-familiar way to Austin and Cam's street. Only this time, it wasn’t a game night, poker night, or barbecue—not anymore, anyway. This was…Chase didn’t know what the fuck it was.

"Remember what I said." Austin gave him a pointed look. "You can talk to us."

Chase nodded, wanting to thank Austin for…everything. But it would have to wait. He couldn’t form a single word, though Austin seemed to understand. As usual. So, the two nodded their goodbyes, and Chase continued along the street.

The smell of pool cleaner and barbecue lingered in the dry air.

Some front lawns were greener than others.

The entire street gave Chase a suburban feel he'd never had growing up. Modest and clean, a few notches above working-class. One-story homes of white brick with picket fences and generous-sized driveways to prove it was a neighborhood for families. Households with more than one car, yet nothing ostentatious like gates or perfectly laid stone paths or ponds.

As he reached Remy's old house, he stuck his hands down into the pockets of his dark-wash jeans, his shoulders stiff, and walked up the paved driveway.

I should've put on more deodorant.

The day hadn't cooled enough yet, and his black T-shirt was like an extension of the sun.

Taking a deep breath, he rang the doorbell that looked new. In fact, everything around him looked new. Or cleaned, restored. From flowerbeds with new soil and a low picket fence that had recently been painted in a soft gray shade, to the brass doorbell that shone in the setting sun, and a kitchen window that still smelled of chemicals from cleaning it.

Chase was anxious, jittery, and uncomfortable, and he knew it showed. There was no sign of life as he leaned a few inches to the side to peer inside the kitchen, but there was a vintage car parked in the driveway. Someone had to be home, right? Everyone drove in California. A parked car meant you were home.

A bike in Chase's case. A cage wasn’t for him.

He rang the bell again and ran a hand through his hair, getting frustrated. All he knew from Cam and Austin was that a woman lived here now. Could it be the woman—the friend—who had "kidnapped" Remy? No sign of children. The small front yard was empty aside from two flowerbeds with tiny white flowers and one young tree in a corner.

Chase was just about to give up when he heard the sound of feet padding closer on the other side of the door, causing him to stiffen up some more. Was he relieved or disappointed? He couldn’t tell.

A petite brunette with red-rimmed eyes and wet tracks down her cheeks opened the door and looked up questioningly at him.

"Hi." She sniffled and cleared her throat. "Can I help you?"