“No, he sets the example of the kind of man I want you with. He might not have pursued me in the most professional manner, but he’s treated me golden ever since we worked through the mess with Krystal.
“He’s a kind, loyal and strong man, and you deserve one of your own, but you’re still young, sis. It doesn’t have to be Clay. Take your time.”
“OK, enough advice for one day. Can you show me to my office? I’m ready to begin this chapter of my life.”
Chapter Fifteen
Everett
Every employee of Casteel Motorsport except for two guys manning the store are in the shop bay waiting for me to speak.
I’ve called them in to have this special meeting about Travis. He’d be furious with me for it, but his health and safety are my utmost priorities.
The shop guys are standing before me in their blue coveralls spattered in grease. Kyle, Reese and Becca are dressed business casual, and then we have a few young female cashiers present, too.
I can’t straight up tell these girls to leave my brother alone, but I’m hoping my talk will set them straight. Becca’s biting her lip and staring at the ground. Maybe I shouldn’t have had her here, but I’m trying not to show her special treatment.
It’s hard enough not to treat Reese that way, and I typically fail miserably at it, especially when she’s straddling me at my desk. I clear my throat and remember why I’m doing this.
“Thank you for attending this meeting. It’s no secret around here that my brother Travis has been in rehab for the last month.
“I’m breaking about every rule here as a boss, but I don’t give a damn. We’re a family business, and this concerns my family who means more to me than any workplace laws.
“Travis will be coming home tomorrow and returning to work on Monday. He asked that no one treat him any differently than they have in the past.
“Well, I only partly agree with that. If I find out that someone offered my brother a drink at any time, a reason to fire your ass will magically appear. Is that understood?”
Everyone’s nodding, and one young girl, who has her hands shoved in the back pockets of her jeans, is staring at me wide-eyed.
“I don’t want my brother starting new ventures or new relationships that could cause him added stress. What I’m trying to say is show him your support like you always have, but don’t put him in too tempting of situations. He needs more time in his recovery.
“If you ever think he’s drinking, then let me know. Hell, leave an anonymous note in my mailbox if you don’t want to come to me personally.
“I know I’m crossing the line here, but I’ll do anything to keep him sober. If you’re his friend, you’ll do your part in this. My last words … Please don’t sue my ass over this. Thank you.”
My employees laugh and begin to disperse, except for Reese and Becca. The two look like they’re arguing.
“What’s the problem?”
“Becca thinks she should leave Casteel.”
“Everett, I don’t want to quit, but I won’t cause Travis added stress. You know I’m going to.”
“I’ll admit after I did some research on AA and alcoholism, I realized I probably jumped the gun on placing you in his path, but we’re not changing it now.”
She huffs and plants her hand on her hip.
“Listen to me. I saw him, and he was happy that you’re working here. He said he wanted you two to be friends again.”
“He really said that?” Her brow lifts, and I see a smile attempting to crack the surface.
“Yep. The boy grinned, so I think you’re good.”
“OK, but if he freaks out or anything, then I’m leaving.”
“Come talk to me before you do anything rash. I don’t want to have to chase you down like I’ve had to do with your sister.” I wink at Reese, and she rolls her eyes but smiles. That’s right; she loves the chase.
“It’ll be such a relief to see him happy and well,” Becca says.
I can’t agree with her more, but I am a little worried about them working together. I can only pray it goes smoothly.
Travis
“Travis, have a seat,” Tom, my therapist, says. Another damn plaid sweater. Does he ever wear anything different? I’m curious if he has a wife. If not, I could tell him that his style is a chick repellent for sure. Maybe he’s into dudes and they dig the plaid.
“What’s on your mind, Travis?” he asks. Damn, have I been staring at him for long?
“Uh, I’m eager to get home.” Like usual, I sit on the loveseat across from his chair.
“Yes, that’s tomorrow. Do you feel ready?”
“Yep.”
“Did you have any visitors last weekend?”
“My brother Everett came to see me.”
“How did that go?”
“Good. He gave me advice like usual, but I’m more open to it now that I’m in a better place. I’m still worried, though, that the family is going to hover too much once I’m home.”
“Do they normally do that?”
I shrug. “Not a lot. I’m closest to Ev, so he does mostly.”
“In a previous session, I suggested we talk about your relationship with your brothers. Do you mind if we explore that today?”
“I don’t know what difference it will make. We all get along. Sarge and Roman are married with kids, so they usually have too much going on to meddle much in my life. They’re good to me, and I know they worry, but I really don’t have too many deep discussions with them.”
“But Everett is different.”
“I think he believes it’s his job to take on the father role since my dad passed.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he has some kind of guilt, too, over my dad dying. I really couldn’t tell you.” I tap my foot and flatten down my messy hair.
“Maybe he doesn’t feel he can say as much to his older brothers but believes he has a chance to guide or shape you since you’re younger.”
“Hmm … I don’t think I’ve ever put thought into how he has older brothers to deal with, too. I just think of them all as my older brothers.”
“Maybe your oldest brothers give him advice like he gives you.”
“Yeah, I guess I’ve heard them do that.”
“Our family members usually mean well when they give us their opinions. They’re hoping the person they’re giving it to will make better choices than they themselves have made in the past.
“Or, if something has worked out for them, they want the same success for you. Maybe try to look at it from that perspective when your brothers make suggestions.”
“OK, but I’m still going to do what I want.”
He smirks. “As you should.”
“I don’t want them smothering me and lecturing me once I’m home. I can already picture it.”
“Then maybe you could come to a compromise since their hovering is likely out of love.” He smirks again, and I really wish he wasn’t so wise about so many things.
“Let them know how good you’re feeling in your recovery, but assure them that if you find yourself tempted to drink, you’ll reach out to them.”
“I guess I could do that.”
“Your brothers are only human, Travis. They have shortcomings like everyone else. You should never feel inferior, and ultimately you should be in charge of your life.
“However, try to appreciate that you have many people around you to seek advice from should you need it. We all could use another person’s perspective from time to time.”
“I see your point. I’m worried I’m going to have a battle with Everett over Becca, though. I didn’t get the vibe he wants me to get back with her.”
His brow knits. “Are you saying you’re going to be in a relationship with Becca?”
“Hopefully. I thought about everything, along with the stuff you said, and I want to get her back.”
“I’m pleased you reached the decision to be with her, but you need to be c
autious. A stressful situation could affect your recovery. I suggest you take it slowly.”
“Do you want me with her or not?”
“Of course I want it to work out for you and Becca, but your sobriety is my top priority. We won’t have time for another session before you’re discharged. Would you be open to seeing me on an outpatient basis? Maybe a time or two.”
“I guess I can do that. It may make my brothers happier about me leaving here.”
“You’re not living to please your brothers, so don’t put their expectations on yourself. You can take them into consideration, but there is a definite difference between the two.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.”
“OK, then let’s meet in a couple of weeks.” He stands up, so I do, too.
“Thanks. I’ll see you then.”
***
“Are you all packed and ready to get out of this fine establishment?” Clive asks after entering our room.
“Yep. My brother will be here in a few minutes.”
“I’m gonna miss ya, but I’m glad to see you doing so well.”
I’m glad to see him doing better, too. He’s put on weight from not drinking and from the meals he’s eaten here.
“Didn’t you say you used to be a mechanic?”
“Yep.”
“Do you have any experience working on motorcycles?”
“I can fix about anything with an engine.”
“Casteel Motorsport. Call or stop by when you get out, and be sure to ask for me. I’ll hook you up with a job.”
“Damn, boy, that’s generous of you, but you’re not the first to offer me help.”
“But maybe I can be the last who needs to. You can do this, Clive. I have faith in you. You’ve helped me out a lot in here.”
He runs a hand over the grey scuff on his chin.
“OK, I’ll consider it.”
“Seriously, Clive. Come find me. I’d like to at least stay in touch.”
“Ah, damn. Tom’s sensitivity is wearing off on you. I swear I’m kicking your ass if I find you in one of those damn sweaters.”
“Not a chance, man.” I pick up my duffel bag and packet full of educational material I’ve collected over the last month. Clive grips my shoulder.
“Take care, Trav. I have faith you’re going to do great things.”
My eyes become watery, and maybe Tom is rubbing off on me. This isn’t the first time I’ve felt emotional in this place, but maybe it’s a good thing. In the past, I never wanted to deal with shit, so I did whatever I could to numb myself.
Alcohol, women, and riding recklessly. They were my forms of escape. I can’t go back to that lifestyle, or I’ll be dead before I’m twenty-five. I definitely won’t have a shot with Becca if I choose that path.
No, I’m leaving my past in this building. It’s time to embrace the present and build a future that includes a gorgeous, petite blonde. She’s a sweetheart, and I know what I gave up. Now, I have to prove to her I won’t make that mistake again.
I sign my last discharge papers, and Everett is waiting for me on the other side of the door.
“Yes … fresh air. I’ve not had enough of it in this place.”
“It’s good to see that smile on your face, baby brother.”
“Hell yeah, I’m smiling. I’m finally out of here.”
“Do you feel ready?”
“Yes, Everett, and if I didn’t I wouldn’t be leavin’.”
He holds his hands up. “OK, sorry. I felt the need to ask.”
Once I’ve shoved my bag into the backseat of his pickup, I climb inside the cab.
“I’m not trying to jump down your throat, but please don’t do that every day. If I’m having a tough time, I’ll let you know.”
“You haven’t been that cooperative in the past, so it’s going to take me a little time to get used to this, too.”
I drum my fingers on my knee.
“Fair enough, but you don’t need to worry. I’m in a good place.”
Chapter Sixteen
Travis
I’m dressed and ready for work an hour earlier than I used to be. For the first time in a decade, I feel the need to make my bed, so I get to it.
It’s mostly out of respect for my mom and Everett. Ma had a homecoming dinner for me yesterday with the family. She fixed all my favorite dishes. It felt good to be home and around those who give a damn about me.
In addition to that, Ev and Mom came in while I was at rehab and cleaned up the entire apartment. Everett disposed of all the trash, old alcohol containers and condom wrappers from the floors before Mom came over and cleaned the entire place. Thank god Ev had the foresight to pick up first.
It’s cool to see the apartment tidy, so I’m going to keep it that way. I think I treated the place like shit since I was supposed to be living here with Becca. It seemed tarnished before I ever stepped foot in it, but this is my fresh start.
Yeah, in the back of my mind I picture her living in this apartment with me, but I know that’s me getting ahead of myself.
The thought of seeing her today jacks up my heart rate. I grab my keys and head out. I think I’ll buy everyone donuts this morning since they’ve had to pull more weight at work this last month.
Once I’ve hit the local bakery, I cruise into work and park my black pickup in its usual spot.
“We’re home, big guy.” I tap the dash. “Thank you for takin’ care of me all those fucked up nights … hell, mornings, too. You can rest easy now.”
I eye the enormous grey concrete building. Glass windows along the front surround the double doors. Our Casteel Motorsport sign is high above and centered, and the bay doors are open to the shop attached on the left.
The outer walls of our business advertise customers’ names and emblems. It might not be much to look at, but it sure feels like home, and we’re proud of it.
I enter the store, and Franklin grants me a whopping grin from behind the counter.
“I brought donuts. Want me to bring you up a couple?”
He nods and goes back to putting money in the cash register. The smell of oil filters in from the shop, and the leather scent from the new bikes on display in the store lingers, too. I didn’t know I could miss this place, but I did.
I set down the box on the blue counter in the break room. There’s a built in sink in it and a fridge to the right. Grabbing a paper plate from a bottom cabinet, I pile some donuts on it.
As I move carefully to the door, I’m looking at them, making sure they don’t topple over to the floor when I hear a squeal. My eyes jerk upward and Becca is inches away.
“I’m sorry. I just about ran into you,” she says with a hand over her chest.
“Hey.”
“Hi. I’m glad you’re here–I mean home and, um, back to work.” She gazes up at me with those pristine blue eyes. They’re a brighter, deeper blue than mine.
“Thanks. I’m glad to be back, and I feel better than ever.”
“You look better.” Her hand reaches out and traces the scar at the top of my forehead. “It’s healing up well.”
“Excuse me,” Everett says. Becca yanks her hand down and turns to leave but runs right smack into Ev’s chest.
“Oh, sorry, I was leaving.”
Actually, she just walked in, but it’s more than obvious she’s nervous and wants the hell out. Everett steps to the side and lets her pass. His eyebrows lift.
“Couldn’t wait five minutes, huh?”
“It’s not what it looked like. She was talking about my scar, but it would’ve been nice if you had waited five more minutes to walk in.”
He smiles. “There’s so much I want to say, but I’ll let it go.” I roll my eyes because if Everett manages to keep his mouth shut about my life, it will be a first.
I stride back up to the front counter, resisting the urge to seek out Becca. There’s a lot I have to say to her, but I know it needs to happen gradually so I don’t run her off.
I se
t the donuts on the counter between the two computers Link and I work from.
“Glad you’re back, Uncle,” he says.
“You know I hate when you call me that.”
“And that’s why I said it.” He throws his head back and laughs. “Today’s going to be amazing.”
“Damn, and I thought I might get special treatment.”
“Oh, you’re going to get special treatment all right.”
Fuck, that’s never a good thing to hear around here. The phone rings, so I grab it.
“Casteel Motorsport. What can I do for ya?”
Shit, what the hell is that? I feel something slimy running down the inside of my hand.
“Yes, sir, we’re open.” I switch the phone to my other hand, and now I have the same shit on those fingers. “OK, see you soon.”
I hang up and look at the clear jelly sliding down my palms.
“What the hell is this shit?” I look over, and Link is bent over the counter with his forehead resting on it. He’s laughing and holding his stomach.
“Yes, it’s going to be the best fucking day ever,” he says. His voice is muffled, but I get the message loud and clear.
“Hell no. I’m not getting pranked all day. What is this on my hands?”
“K-Y Jelly. I figured you might need some for those hand jobs you’ll be administering in the bathroom each time Becca saunters by here.”
“Fucker,” I say.
“Hey, I’m just welcoming you back in style, buddy. You specifically told us at dinner yesterday not to treat you differently, so here ya go.”
I curse under my breath as I find paper towels below the counter. I wipe my hands off and turn to throw the towel in the open trash can behind us.
A white paper is taped to the top inside wall of the tall bin. There’s a photo of me plastered on it with all-cap words written in black marker under it that read “Travis’s used jiz towels deposited here.”
“You asshole,” I say. “The customers will be able to see that.” Ripping off the paper, I wad it up and toss it in the can. I turn around, and all three of my brothers are standing at the front of the counter grinning at me like idiots.
Fail to Trust (The Casteel Trust Series Book 2) Page 10
