Lost Before You (Heart's Compass Book 2)

by Brooke O'Brien

  “Mason’s one of my best friends, Kaleb. You know that,” I said, taking my drink from his hand. “Right, Mason?” I asked, turning my head toward him once again.

  “Yep,” he said with a pop. “Best friends.”

  As much as I wish I could take back the night I walked in on Kaleb, I’m certain if that night would never have happened, Mason and I wouldn’t be where we are today. I believe everything happens for a reason. Today, I’m not going to let the guilt I feel over the past affect me because regardless of how we got here, I know I am looking forward to what my future has in store with Mason.

  August

  Rubbing my fingers over my eyes, I lean back in the office chair and quickly check the time on the clock. I’ve been counting down the minutes all day until it’s time to head out of here.

  I’ve spent most of the summer busy working, doing everything I can to keep my mind off Brea and how fucking much I miss her. Knowing in just a few hours she’ll be back has me distracted and unable to focus.

  It’s a little after four o’clock when I shove my chair away and bound out of the office. I’ve been spending a lot of my time during the week at Hard Stop, the restaurant Craig recently opened, located close to downtown. After spending the weekdays here, I’ve been keeping myself busy working my shifts at Velvet on the weekends. Craig gave me the weekend off knowing Brea was coming to town but I ended up going into the restaurant today to stay busy. I’ve been going out of my mind at the thought of seeing her.

  “I’m going to head out. Brea should be here in a couple of hours and I want to get a shower before I do,” I say, tilting my hip against the doorway leading into the stockroom. Craig is leaning over a stack of boxes, flipping through what appears to be the invoices.

  Peering his head up to mine, he nods his head, “Alright, you tell her to come see me once she gets settled in. I promised her she’d have a job when she came back to Chicago and I mean it. Although now, I think I’ll give her the option of picking where she wants to be.”

  I know Craig has been looking to hire some waitresses, and it would be a great opportunity for her to pick up hours during the week, but this is our last year of college. I don’t want her to stress herself out.

  “Yeah, I’ll talk to her and let her know.”

  After we say our goodbyes, I head out the side entrance toward where my Rover is parked. As soon as I approach the SUV, I feel my phone vibrate from my pocket, and the hope that it’s Brea has me reaching my hand inside to check to see who it is. Instead, I find a missed call from my mom.

  Ever since Callum left Chicago, we haven’t spoken to each other, although it’s not without a lack of me trying. I’ve made several attempts to reach out to him, but he’s a stubborn and prideful person, and my efforts have been futile. The last time I spoke to my mom, she told me Callum has shut down and refuses to talk about it with her or my stepdad, Randy. My phone vibrates in my hand again as a notification appears indicating she left a voicemail.

  Clicking the message icon, I press play as I raise my phone against my ear.

  Hey, sweetie, I was just calling to see how your week is going and to see what time Brea is supposed to be back in town. It worries me knowing that girl is driving all that way by herself. I was just wondering if you talked to your brother at all? I know he’s as stubborn as a mule but I think he’d like to hear from you. Anyway, I’m sure you’re busy so don’t worry about calling me tonight. If you can though, will you try to give Callum a call? Alright, I’ll talk to ya later. Love you, sweetie.

  I can’t help but smile at my mom. That woman couldn’t stop herself from meddling in what’s going on with people’s lives and relationships even if I begged her. She has good intentions though and a heart of gold.

  Tossing my phone on the center console, I decide I’ll head home and take a quick shower and, if I have any time before Graham and I head over to Brea’s, I’ll try giving Callum a call.

  It doesn’t end up taking me long at all to get home and get myself ready. I think the anticipation of seeing Brea has me racing to get in and out as quickly as possible. With forty minutes to spare, I pick up my phone and decide to give Callum one last try. If he doesn’t answer after this, I’m throwing in the towel. The ball will be in his court, and whenever he decides to pull his head out of his ass, the door will always be open.

  Scrolling through my phone, I click Callum’s name and press the phone to my ear as it rings.

  “Reid.” Callum’s voice grunts into the receiver.

  “It’s about time you learned to answer your phone,” I grumble. He doesn’t respond right away and, for a second, I think he disconnects the call.

  “I don’t have time for this right now, Mason. What the hell do you want?” I hear the edge of frustration in his tone, and it only adds to my annoyance. Why the hell is he pissed off at me?

  “You going to keep avoiding me forever? Doesn’t it get old after a while, running away from all your problems?” The last comment was a low blow but still. He’s acting like a jackass and he deserves to hear it.

  “Just cut to the chase, what the hell do you want?”

  “You know it’s been two years since you’ve talked to Dad? I’ve tried to stay out of your problems, but the way you spoke to him when you were here was bullshit, man. It’s fucking disrespectful.”

  “I’m not the one with problems. He is! He has a fucking problem with drinking too much and putting his hands on women, specifically our mother. Now THAT is disrespectful, Mason! The only thing I want to know is why you don’t see his behavior as being an issue?”

  ”Dude, he has paid the price for that. How long are you going to rake him over the coals and crucify him for it? Maybe if you had stopped acting like an asshole and listened to what he had to say when he tried talking, you’d feel differently.”

  It’s the fucking truth! He didn’t even give our dad a chance to explain why he was in Chicago, instead treated him like shit to the point where he left and went to his hotel. If he pulled his head out of his ass and talked to him, maybe he’d get the full story. I get he made mistakes in the past and it pisses me off to hear how he treated our mom, but he also deserves to hear him out and that’s something Callum has never given him.

  “That’s what you’re not understanding, Mason. I don’t give a fuck what has he has to say anymore, the same goes for you. I’m done with this conversation.”

  Tossing the phone on the coffee table, I rub my hand over my face.

  “God, he’s such an asshole,” I spit, running my fingers into my damp hair. The sound of a can top popping has me peeking my eye open, expecting to find Graham standing in front of me.

  Tilting my head up, I wait for his inevitable question to come but instead he just holds out the can of beer to me. I don’t even hesitate to take it from him, pop the top, and take a long swig.

  “Thanks, man,” I say, wiping the back of my hand along my mouth.

  Graham doesn’t say anything, instead, takes a seat on the other end of the couch, leaning over to pick up the remote. I don’t try to talk about it, too pissed off after the bullshit Callum just said to even bother going into it. Instead, I focus on the television and watch as Graham flips through the channels, settling on an episode of That 70’s Show.

  Taking a long pull from my beer as I check the time on my watch, we still have thirty minutes before it’s time to leave for Brea’s.

  When we talked on the phone earlier this week, she made me promise tonight she could get her friends together for pizza and to hang out. As much as she wants to settle in, I know she misses her friends more than anything. Graham and I decided we would help her get the stuff she moved out of her room in Cleveland and into her apartment.

  Just the thought of Brea being in Chicago has me letting out a sigh of relief.

  “You want to talk about it?” Graham asks, turning down the TV. I feel
his eyes burning holes into the side of my face.

  “He’s just an asshole. What more is there to say?”

  “He is your brother.”

  To anyone else, you’d probably miss it but I hear the edge of sadness in Graham’s voice. He hates seeing Callum and I fight like we are, and I feel the guilt rise in my throat. Ever since the day Graham lost his cousin, Gage, who was more like a brother to him, in a car accident, he hasn’t been same. The regret and blame he has placed on himself from that night haunts him.

  “I know, but he’s bull-headed and won’t give it up. I’m sick of being stuck in the middle of him and my dad.”

  “Then don’t put yourself in the middle of it, Mason. It’s that simple. It’s not your battle to fight. You can be there for your dad without choosing sides.”

  “I just don’t want to talk about it tonight. Brea will be home soon, and everything will be better.”

  Graham is the only person who knows how much I’ve truly struggled having her away. If it wasn’t for Craig needing my help, I’m certain this break would’ve caused me to go out of my mind.

  Before Brea left, she was worried I was going to turn my attention to someone else. The truth is I’ve put so much focus into working and going to the gym, I haven’t given myself time to focus on anything else but her. The only parties I’ve been to include Graham and I, this couch, and a six pack of beer between the two of us.

  Don’t even get me going on the fact that this is the longest I’ve gone without getting laid in a long fucking time. It’s resulted in a lot of cold showers and a few memorable FaceTime conversations with Brea.

  In all honesty, it’s really time for me to get my shit together and start thinking about what the future has in store. I’m getting ready to go into my senior year of college, and I have a lot of work to put in before I can start law school the following year. It’s time I look at the path my dad has been on and use his mistakes as a lesson.

  “It’s days like today I’m grateful we live here,” I joke, changing the subject as I turn my head toward Graham.

  I can tell he’s lost in thought, his eyes lacking focus, as he nods his head. If I had to guess, his mind has drifted back to Gage.

  “Do you ever think about going home to Arbor Creek? I’m sure your mom would like to see you.”

  “I can’t.” The emotion seeps into his words, coming out gruff.

  “You can’t or you won’t?”

  “Nothing good would come out of going back there. Not now.”

  I don’t want to tell him he’s wrong because I know it’s no use. Graham left behind a lot when he left Arbor Creek three years ago. I know he doesn’t think he deserves it but there are people who love him, who want to see him.

  I guess we’re both just too stubborn for our own good.

  “What time did Brea say she’d be home?” Graham asks, picking up the remote again, flipping through the channels.

  “She said she would be here around six or so.” I hit the lock button on my phone, checking the time. “We have about twenty minutes if you want to start heading that way.”

  With a nod of his head, Graham stands up and heads down the hall, leaving only the sound of his heavy feet padding on the hardwood floors.

  Sometimes the past is too hard for some of us to get over.

  Two knocks sound on the edge of the door as I shut my suitcase, zipping it shut.

  “Come in,” I say, as my mom peeks her head into my room.

  Her long brown hair is pulled up high in a ponytail. We spent most of the past month getting everything cleared out of the house to prepare for her to sell the house. This last weekend I finally went through all my stuff I kept here when I went away to college and decided what was worth keeping and taking with me to Chicago. Aside from some of the keepsakes my mom offered to hold onto for me, the rest is getting packed up in boxes as I get ready for the trip back to Chicago later today.

  “How is packing coming along?” she asks. She’s dressed in a pair of track shorts and a tank top. She’s been spending most of the morning repainting the living room to prepare for Monday when the realtor stops by to take pictures of the house. This is likely the last time I’ll be in this house and the thought has me a little nostalgic.

  Careful of where she steps, she maneuvers through the room toward where I’m sitting and takes a seat next to me on the edge of my unmade bed.

  “Good, I think I’m almost done.”

  I pat the beads of sweat on my forehead on the sleeve of my t-shirt, heaving my suitcase off the bed and onto the floor.

  “This is the last of it I think,” I say, looking around the bare room.

  I understand why she’s selling it. The house was already too much space when it was just her, my dad and I living here. Now that she’s here by herself, it’s more space than she could ever need. Although she would never admit it, I got the feeling the walls felt like an echo of the past she was ready to leave behind. In a way it felt like we were closing the chapter on that part of our lives.

  It was about a week after I walked in on her and David, who I now know as her boyfriend, before she finally revealed the truth behind her motivation to move. She was finally ready to move on with someone who made her happy and hearing that made me happy for her. It was time for us both to close this chapter together.

  “Have you spoken to your father and told him you’re leaving?” she asks. As hard as their separation was, it was my mom who has encouraged me to reach out to him and try to heal our relationship.

  “He called a little bit ago, but I didn’t answer.”

  “Brea, honey, you really should see him before you leave, or at least call him. I think it would be good if the two of you talked.” I let out a sigh, not wanting to do this with him while knowing she’s right. “He deserves to hear the truth behind how you feel.”

  “I’ve tried talking to him about it. It’s like he doesn’t even hear what I’m saying. I don’t want to go over to his house, nor do I want to meet his happy little family. To be honest, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.”

  “They’re your family, too, Brea. Regardless of your father’s poor decisions, it’s not Kyla and Kaden’s fault,” she says, referring to my twin brother and sister. I’ve heard about them and even seen pictures of them the last time I was out to lunch with my dad. I know it’s not their fault, but something about meeting them feels like I’m betraying my mom.

  As if she can read my mind, she says, “Healing this part of you, Brea, does not mean you are disloyal to me.”

  I feel the tears well up in my eyes as I hear her voice the one fear that has been holding me back from moving forward.

  “I just can’t forgive him for what he’s done to you, to our family. The hurt he has created and left in his wake,” I say, running my finger underneath the brim of my eye wiping away an errant tear.

  “I think you’ve carried far too much with you that wasn’t your burden to carry, sweetie. You were older and it’s hard to keep things from you, but I’m sorry you had to go through this with me. One thing I’ve learned through all of this as even the people you don’t think have earned it, deserve forgiveness. Not for them, not because they deserve to have their mistakes overlooked, but because sometimes the only way for you to heal is to let go of the anger and hurt you’re carrying. Forgiveness isn’t about them, it’s for you.”

  She doesn’t continue to push me or say anything more as she stands up and wraps her arms around my shoulders, pulling me in for a hug. I fight off the tears that threaten to spill down my face, but it’s no use.

  The woman standing before me has been through so much the past four years. Hearing her say she has forgiven my dad and is moving on goes to show her true strength.

  “I’m going to miss you, sweetheart,” she whispers in my ear. “It’s been so nice having you home but I want you to remembe
r no matter where I live, you’ll always have a place to stay.” With that, she leans back and gives me a big smile before turning and walking out of the room.

  Taking a deep breath, I pick up my phone and scroll through my missed calls, finding my dad’s name. Before I change my mind, I click on my father’s name and raise the phone to my ear. It rings twice before he answers.

  “Brea, what a wonderful surprise. How are you?” he asks. His rough voice is reminding me all too much of the man I knew growing up.

  “I’m okay,” I say, letting out a sigh. The emotions rolling through me make my voice sound like I’m croaking. “Do you have time today to meet for lunch?”

  “You’re in town?” he asks, sounding surprised.

  “Uh, yeah,” I say, not wanting to tell him the reason why I was home for the summer. “I’m getting ready to head to Chicago though later today. If you’re free, I was thinking we could meet before I head back.”

  “Yeah, sure. Of course.”

  We make plans to meet for lunch in two hours, which gives me plenty of time to finish loading up the rest of the boxes, shower, and get ready. All this packing and moving stuff has left me sticky with sweat. I promised Mason I would be home in time for our pizza date with Lissa and Graham.

  As if on cue, a text from Mason comes through my phone.

  Mason: I’m counting down the minutes until you’re here. I can’t wait to see you.

  We’ve spent most of the summer texting and FaceTiming each other. Thank goodness, I am on an unlimited plan because between my nightly calls with Mason and my two hour long catch-up sessions with Lissa, I’ve been putting some miles on this bad boy.

  An hour and a half later, I’m wrapping my arms around my mom’s waist as we say our goodbyes. She makes me promise I’ll come visit her for Thanksgiving or Christmas, and I reassure her that I will, as well as calling her when I get back to town.