To Have Page 21

I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, thankful I wasn’t going to go to prison, but nothing is ever this simple with him. “What is this, Mason? You want to get me out here so you can tell your family what an even bigger asshole I am? So they can hate me as much as you do?”

  He took my words and mulled them over in his mind. I thought he was thinking of something smartassed to say, but his question caught me off guard. “Why didn’t you call Mom to come get you?”

  I raised an eyebrow to him. “Don’t you think she has enough to deal with right now? Besides,”—I looked him dead in the eye—“You’re their son. They’ll always choose you over me.” An ugly fact, but a truth nonetheless. Yes, the Kasens loved me, and it was irrevocably reciprocated. But I knew when push came to shove, blood would trump baggage every time, despite what Elsie believed.

  He jerked his head to the side. “Hartley wants to talk to us both.”

  Hartley’s office was bare bones except for a mounting pile of paperwork and a few pictures of his late wife Heather scattered on various surfaces. They were high school sweethearts, and Hartley took her death extremely hard. He sat in his seat, arms raised, and hands perched on his neck. “Sit. Both of you.”

  I looked at Mason who shared a rare look of commiseration. We were two boys who got called to the principal’s office and were about to pay the piper for their sins. “First of all, what happened today in my station better never happen again, or I’ll see both your asses put behind bars. Got it?”

  We both nodded. What other choice did we have?

  “Kasen, go to your office. I want a word with you before you leave.”

  “Yes, Sarge.” He left with Hartley’s eyes still on me, analyzing and searching for...well, who the hell knew.

  “How have things been coming back home?”

  “Not great, if I'm being frank.”

  He tapped his finger on the desk now, eyes still searching. “Trouble at work?”

  Trouble everywhere. “No. Just...a rough adjustment.”

  “Ever finish that degree?”

  I shook my head, yes. Aidan had hated college, prompting him to enlist in the first place. He didn’t want to go into the construction business, so he thought he’d expand his horizons. I was two years into my criminal justice degree when he told me he was going. I wanted to stay and finish, but I couldn’t let him go by himself. When I completed rehab, both for my leg and for my drinking problem, I started taking online classes to finish up, using some of my severance money from the Army to do so. I had finished up the month before Merritt put the rollers under my feet and sent me home to do what I needed to do a long time ago. I knew the family needed another worker, so the piece of paper that made me a graduate sat untouched in a desk drawer.

  “Why didn’t you stop by and let me know? I could have pulled some strings and got you enrolled in the academy.” Hartley was a big reason why I wanted to pursue criminal justice in the first place. He and I had multiple talks over the years since my dad left and he kept tabs on me over the last fourteen years, me now a man and him no longer a rookie cop. His stories about how he got to help get people out of the situation I was in lit a fire in me to pursue that degree in the first place, but family is family, and the needs of my adopted one came first.

  “Family needed me,” I replied, although my help had been more of a hindrance in the last few years.

  “Record clean?”

  “It is. Except for today, I guess.” I slightly shrugged my shoulders.

  He shook his head. “What’s the deal with you and Kasen anyway?”

  “I wish I knew.” And in truth, I really did.

  “That hot temper of his is going to land him in some serious trouble one day if he doesn’t watch it.” Two taps on the desk, he stood and straightened out his uniform. “I don’t think I have to tell you to keep that backyard bullshit out of my precinct, do I, son?”

  “No, sir.”

  He nodded to the door. I had pulled the knob back, ready to get out of there, when he said something that gave me pause. “When the family no longer needs you, you give me a call. I think I know where you really belong.” He extended his hand, and I shook it, taking my leave. I passed through the door as Mason was coming back out of his office, going back into the lion’s den, shutting Hartley’s door behind him.

  I left there with mixed feelings about the whole situation, but I knew one thing for sure: I didn’t want the day to come when I was no longer needed by the Kasens, even though it looked like the day when they’d no longer want me had arrived.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Deacon

  A few days after my misadventure at the police station, I was at Charles and Lynn’s house again to help with his home therapy stretches. He was improving a little each day, anxious, I think, to get back to work and get out of this bed. His speech was coming along as well, but he was easily frustrated with how he couldn’t get his mouth to say what his brain kept computing. He was tuckered out, so Lynn and I helped him get settled into bed. I told them goodbye, only for Lynn to ask me to wait for her in the living room.

  I knew it. This was the moment she was going to tell me I was no longer welcome at their house. I could feel it in my bones.

  I waited anxiously on the deep couch that was made for bigger guys like me. Height was a blessing and a curse at times, but when it came to comfortable furniture and fitting into tight spaces, smaller builds won the day. I heard a door shutting and footsteps shuffling down the wooden steps, the woman I had come to think of as Mom appearing, her hair on top of her head, and a face that wore the stress of a caregiver. She had opted to take some more time off to help Charles get in a better place, but I know they had a lot of financial burden on their backs as their savings were quickly dwindling down.

  She plopped onto the couch beside me and readjusted her bun, a beauty who never needed any makeup to showcase it. “I wanted to talk with you before you left. It feels like we haven’t had a chance to just sit down and chat in forever.”

  I stayed quiet, expecting the ax, but hoping this wasn’t the conversation that’d be my last real one with her. The woman who took care of me and dressed my wounds after my dad disappeared into the wind. The lady who found a speech therapist to help me overcome a stutter that had been unaddressed for years. The mother who loved me as her own, even though I didn’t share her blood. The thought of losing her and Charles sickened me, but I would understand because they did have children who shared their blood, children who needed their parents to take their side and to make the bad guys go away, never to return again.

  “So…obviously, there have been some things going on that I haven’t been told about yet.”

  I looked at her, unsure of how to proceed.

  “I know a broken heart when I see one, Deacon.” Her motherly radar was always keen. “Especially when I have three children who all seem to be carrying one around, but no one wants to talk about it.”

  They haven’t told her yet? I was lost because the Kasens were always so close, able to share their burdens with each other no matter what. I thought I was the only secret keeper of the group. There isn’t a manual on how to start a conversation like this—I’ve been in love with your daughter forever, but I broke her heart and your son’s too by destroying their trust in me—so, I thought I’d start with taking responsibility for my own actions. “I messed up.”

  “Humans tend to do a lot of that.”

  I slunk my shoulders down slightly. “I don’t think I can fix it this time, though.”

  “This have anything to do with the fact that you’re in love with my daughter?”

  My mouth dropped. “What?”

  “Honey, I’ve known something was up with you two since you came back.” She smirked, “Y’all don’t hide it very well.”

  Well, since we're being honest here. “How did you know?”

  “Deacon, I’ve known you’ve had a thing for her since before you came to live with us.” Her warm smile easing my discomfort the
slightest bit. “Plus,” she laughed, “Charlotte only gets in a tizzy when it involves you. So, I kind of deduced a few things along the way, like those eyes you all were making at each other at the cookout.” Her hand patted my arm like a mother would do a child she’s trying to comfort—a comfort I didn’t deserve.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Her brows knitted together. “For what?”

  “For loving her.”

  “Why would you ever apologize for something like that?”

  “Because I wasn’t supposed to…”

  “Honey, there’s no reason you can't be together. You’re not related, and you’re both adults now.”

  “So, you’re not mad?”

  “Why would I be? You have always tried to look out for her and keep her out of harm’s way—even if it was her brothers trying to spoil her fun.” My eyes widened in realization. “Oh yeah. I caught onto your little ruse when you all played hide-and-seek in the backyard long ago. I have a kitchen window, you know.”

  “I just didn’t want her to be left out,” I mumbled out almost sheepishly.

  “Well, first: let me say that I appreciate you respecting that societal boundary while you were living together here as a kid. I know it couldn’t have been easy to be in a house with someone you like and not being able to tell them.”

  I nodded, relieved at the turn this talk has taken.

  “Secondly, only a kind heart or a boy who adores her would let a little girl tag along to play when his friends didn’t want her around.”

  I didn’t realize it was so transparent, but apparently, I’m not the secret keeper I once thought I was.

  “And lastly,” she smiled as she took my hand, patting it with her other, “If I could choose someone for her, there’s nobody I’d rather take care of my baby than you. You’re already like a son to me, but I think you’d make the perfect son-in-law.”

  “That’s not really a possibility.” The words ached to say, but after the incident with Mason, there was no real way to get through to Charlotte unless she reached out to me.

  “Why not?”

  “There’s been a...lot that’s happened since I came back.”

  “Okay. So we do what we always do: we start from the beginning and work out way back here.”

  She held my hand as I went through the last few weeks, leaving out specific details that I’m sure Charlotte didn’t want her mother to know about us. I explained the day that Nikki kissed me, and her eyes went wide. “Nikki?”

  “Yeah. I still don’t understand it myself.”

  Puzzled, she commented, “That’s so out of character for her to do something like that. Especially to Charlotte.”

  “I think she was under the impression that I had something to do with all the things Grey’s done for her in secret...”

  “And she thought you were the one looking out for her.” She tsked and fell back against the couch. “Wow.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, Grey and Charlotte aren’t talking to you, even though it wasn’t your fault?”

  “I don’t blame them for being mad because I know I probably would’ve jumped to conclusions if the roles were reversed,” I sighed heavily. “I just wish she would’ve believed me.”

  “Well... We know what the problem is now. So, how do we fix it?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  “Have you tried to call her?”

  “Numerous times.”

  “What about…”

  “Texts, social media... I’ve tried it all.”

  “What about a letter?”

  Hmmm. “I don’t have her address. Plus, she probably wouldn’t read them.”

  “You might be surprised. Besides,” she smiled as she squeezed my hand, “You happen to know someone who has her address.”

  “You would give it to me?”

  She motioned with a finger. “On one condition.”

  “Anything,” I implored.

  “You only need to send the letters. Let her have a chance to think things through and give her the space to do it. If you show up out of the blue, she’ll just shut you out. Show her that you respect her space, but you aren’t giving up. If I know my girl, it may be what turns the tide in your favor because letters take time and effort. I think she needs to see she’s worth both to you.” She's worth every cost that had to be paid. “But you also need to find out why Nikki did what she did. That part’s never going to heal between you and them unless you get to the bottom of it and straighten it out.”

  Hope. I didn’t care how small it was, but it was a chance, and I’d take it over nothing. “Thank you. For everything.”

  “That’s what mothers are for,” she said as she leaned over and placed a kiss on my forehead. “And I think you all would give me some beautiful grandbabies,” she winked and patted my cheek.

  I wanted to tell her that she already had one, but that was a conversation that needed to happen with Merritt. My heart soared at the possibility of hope, but I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. I had some ground to cover, and I didn’t want to waste a second.

  “I’ve gotta go.” I scurried as fast as my big body could muster, and I grabbed my keys off the coffee table.

  “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

  I looked over my shoulder and grinned, “I’ve got some letters to write.”

  I sat back on my bed, pen in my hand, pieces of Elsie’s stationery in front of me, and a head full of words to say. How do you even start something like this? This may not work, but it’s all I’ve got left to try. I thought back to something Elsie had written in one of her letters to me...

  Letters are never enough compared to saying something in person but write them anyway. Sometimes, they’re all we have.

  I glanced over at my nightstand and reached under the clean sheet of letter paper engraved with my name on them. There they were: well-worn letters that had been read over and over again, a piece of her in each and every one. Charlotte had beautiful penmanship, but she always knew how to touch the parts of my heart that needed it the most with each note…

  Dear Deacon,

  I hope this finds you well and safe. It’s been two weeks since you all left, and I can’t help but miss you both a little more each day...

  Another one.

  Dear Deacon,

  I wish I could mail you and Aidan a hug, but here’s a little stick figure giving another stick figure a hug.

  I laughed at her attempt to draw stick figures, her art skills lacking, but her heart ever always in the right place.

  It’s not perfect, but a hug doesn’t have to be. You just have to hug like you mean it.

  I thought back to all the hugs she had given me over the years, some I had shrugged off because I didn’t want Aidan to get suspicious. I wished I could take back every time I did that and hugged her like she was supposed to be embraced: wholeheartedly.

  Dear Deacon,

  I was at the store the other day with Mom (she says Hi! by the way), and I found those Riesen candies you love so much. I hope you enjoy them, and I hope they didn’t melt.

  They didn’t—just my heart.

  I combed through her many words, cherishing them in a way that I hadn’t thoroughly before because this time, everything was different. This time she knew how I felt, but I still didn’t have her in my arms. These letters would have to blow it out of the water if I wanted a chance to make everything right. I set them aside and tapped the pen against my bottom lip, finally deciding how I needed to start…

  Dear Charlotte,

  I know you may not want to hear from me, and I fully understand that. But, I wouldn’t be fulfilling my promise to an old friend. A friend who never asked anything of me. A girl who knows how important it is to help someone when they need it and to watch their back when they haven’t done anything to deserve it. This friend told me all she wanted was my words because no matter how garbled and stumbled over they were to me, they were perfect to her ears. She saw the value in t
hem, in me. So, to fulfill my promise, these are my words:

  I fell for a girl who deserved the world but settled for me instead. This girl is everything I’ve ever wished for and could only hope of having, but in trying to make her mine, I hurt her—deeply. For that, I am so sorry. I understand she may not be able to forgive me, but I hope she’ll give me a chance to explain my side of the story. Even if she decides not to, she’ll forever be my Sunshine, and I’ll always want what’s best for her.

  It’s been a month, and all I can do is miss her a little more each day. I hope maybe somewhere deep in her heart of hearts, and beyond all reason, she might just feel the same way too...

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Charlotte

  Three months had passed since my heart was ripped out of my chest. There were no more tears—only numbness. I lumbered through each day in a fog. Fake smiles were always to the go-to menu item, and I had “I’m fine” cued up on repeat for Mom and Dad. Grey was a mess behind closed doors as well, but neither of us wanted to talk about it. He thought I had moved on because I had officially started “dating” Caz last month. I had three months left to go before the real sentence began, but purgatory was just as miserable. I continued to work remotely, which Grey obliged by bringing the paperwork by my apartment. He was just as hollow as me, but he didn’t realize how much. After all, how do you teach yourself to let go of someone you’ve loved for so long?

  To make matters worse, I had received a letter from Deacon every single day, starting about a month ago when the rest of his contact attempts stopped. More than likely, my mother had had a hand in getting him my address, but I couldn’t bring myself to care or get upset anymore. I had piled them in a box because throwing them away seemed mean, but I couldn’t bring myself to open them. Regardless of what Deacon had to say, I was going to be Caz Arlington’s wife. My future had been decided and there wasn’t a pretty little string of words that would change anything. Still, the letters sat in that old box under my bed and shared space with my old collection of romance novels because that’s what they all were—stories.