Reckless (A Carolina Coastal Novel Book 3)

by Kelsey Cheyenne

  “So, what, you had an affair with Daddy’s business partner?” What a fucking cliché. It takes me a minute, for my brain to catch up to the words. Can I call him Daddy anymore? My face falls with the thought. My stomach fills with bile and nausea overpowers me.

  “Not exactly, no. I met your father—Chris, I met Chris in college, but I knew Jason already. I was the one who introduced them.” My brows furrow as I try to catch up, but I need more information. “Jason was my best friend in high school. We were on-again, off-again, dating casually, but we realized we were better off as friends. It was never anything serious, which was why I felt comfortable enough to invite him to the wedding.”

  I sigh, partially wanting her to get a move on with the story, but the other part of me wants to know it all.

  “Chris and Jason hit it off right away. They were both interested in the same stuff, both businessmen in their own right, but Chris wanted more. He didn’t want to work for a business anymore. He dreamed of running one. He’d formulated the idea, had business plans drawn out; there was only one thing he was missing: capital.”

  “So, they went into business together. I get it, Mom, but can you get to the part where you slept with him?”

  Her eyes fall downcast, but I don’t care. She did this to herself. Then again, if she didn’t cheat on Dad, I wouldn’t be here.

  “Things were good for a while, for several years, really. Carson was born and then Lucas. The business was booming and I was able to stop working as the stand-in secretary and focus on being a full-time mom. But then the market crashed. Things got tough, tension was high. Your father and I started fighting, both of us displacing our anger onto each other. Me, from exhaustion and frustrations that come with being a stay-at-home-mom; and your father from the stress of his business crumbling and there was nothing he could do about it.

  “Jason took more of a backseat on the day-to-day once business was booming. He was mostly a silent partner, the CFO, the man who dealt with and had the money. With the markets crashing, Chris needed more money to save the company. That’s when he reached out to Jason. He called and called and called, but Jason never picked up the call. Chris came home, angry and frantic, ready to rip Jason’s head off. I offered to drive to his place to see what was going on. It was a win-win, it gave Chris time to cool off and be with the kids and it gave me a moment of freedom. I didn’t expect to see what I saw when I got to his place.”

  She takes a deep, shaky breath before continuing. “His door was unlocked and ajar. It was only six p.m. but there were a handful of people passed out in the living room. I climbed up the stairs of his house, searching for his bedroom. I found it and he was passed out on his mattress alone. There were pills on his nightstand, a lighter and a pipe, and scattered beer bottles. He was using again.”

  “Again?” The word burst out from between my lips before I even registered it.

  “In school he was always taking Adderall he wasn’t prescribed and pain pills, but I never saw it this bad. He was a functioning drug addict. Chris nor I ever had any idea he was using. It didn’t help with how much he pulled back from the company.” Her gaze is far-off as if she’s lost in her memory. “I woke him up, but it was like waking the dead. His body was covered in a cold sweat. I had to shake him and holler for him to hear me. For a minute, I was convinced he was dead. I almost called for an ambulance, but then he woke up.

  “We had it out. I screamed and cried. He was my best friend and he had a problem. I told him I couldn’t have an addict around my kids. He was pissed and in denial. I didn’t see him for two weeks after that night.”

  “You just left him?”

  “He wasn’t my problem to solve, Flynnie.” Her tone is soft, broken, but her words, to me anyway, are callous. “I had kids to worry about, money and personal problems. It was too much.” Her voice cracks. I can imagine it was a tough call to make.

  “But he came back. I mean obviously he came back.”

  “He did. He called me one night crying. He was scared and he knew he couldn’t do it on his own. Since I knew him for years, I went over to his place. I was going to drive him to a rehab center and get him help. We were together for several hours before I took him in. We just wanted to…be…for a little while. We talked and reminisced like old times. I was scared for him, more scared than I’d ever been. It was then, in that moment, that I realized he was never a casual fling for me. He was my first love and I needed him around. I needed him to get better so he’d always be in my life.” She gulps, staring down at her shaky hands.

  “I kissed him. It was my fault. He was scared and leaning on me and we were talking about our lives together up until that point and the feelings churned until I couldn’t contain them. We slept together that night. Afterwards, I drove him to rehab and I sobbed as we kissed goodbye. I never told Chris.”

  “So, where’s Jason now? Does he know about me? Does he want to meet me?” Do I want to meet him?

  Her eyes brim with tears once more. “I think he knew, but I never confirmed it. He didn’t know your dad got a vasectomy. I even went so far as to get a paternity test for him, but I lied. I needed everyone to believe Chris was your father. I think part of me tried to trick myself too. Maybe if I told him the truth, things might’ve turned out differently. Part of me wanted to tell him, well, to tell both of them. But I was scared. And then…”

  “What?”

  “Jason relapsed. It came out of nowhere. We were moving into the house, this house. He was helping us move. You were, God, what, six or seven? Eight? I don’t even remember. I was too excited to get out of that tiny apartment. He sometimes would just watch us all together. I tried to set him up with some of my friends, but he was never interested. But you…I think he knew. You have his eyes. He’d watch you and sneak you presents. He helped paint your room. He was always there. Chris never suspected anything. I think Jason got depressed, seeing us being so successful and together. Seeing this house we made a home. Watching you grow up but not being a real part of your life. So, he started using again. But…he used too much.”

  She doesn’t have to say it. I already know how this story ends. “He overdosed.”

  “That’s why I tell you you’re so much like you’re father and why it scares the ever-living hell out of me. That’s why I want to keep you under my roof as long as possible, to watch out for you. You remind me so much of him. You even look like him. Every time I look at you it’s a reminder of Jason.” A tear escapes from the corner of her eye. “I never got to say goodbye. I found him. When he didn’t answer his phone again, I went to his place. He was in bed, like before, only this time was different… I never got to tell him the truth. I’d like to think maybe one day I would’ve told all of you, but I’m not sure that’s true. Once he was gone, I was selfish. I didn’t see the need to tell Chris anything. And I was scared if I did that I would lose him too. I’d already lost Jason. I couldn’t survive losing them both.”

  I don’t know what to do with this information. It’s like I somehow both lost and gained my identity in one fell swoop. I’ve got the answers I always wanted, and yet I want to go back to before I knew. When I thought my dad was actually my dad.

  Fuck, ignorance really is bliss.

  “So you lied. To all of us. You made me believe I was crazy, like I was this awful kid. You treated Carson and Lucas so differently than me. You held the key all along and you didn’t fucking tell me.”

  “Flynn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

  “Don’t.” I rub the back of my neck where my tattoo sits. My ink means something completely different now that I know why I am the way I am. Is this something I want marked on my body to pretend like I’m proud of it?

  It’s a reminder of my brokenness. Everything I am because of someone I don’t even know. What could’ve been, but never will be.

  Just like the tattoo, I can’t change it. I am who I am.

  I refocus back on the box in front of her. “What’s i
n there?” My anger strums through my veins, but my curiosity is also strong.

  “Memories. Pictures of me and Jason from high school, pictures of you and him together. Things you don’t even remember, but he was always there.” She pushes off the ground and leans against the doorjamb. “I’ll let you alone to…process. Everything in that box is yours, Flynnie. Keep whatever you’d like. Take your time. I’m here to talk and if you have questions.”

  “This is all your fault. If you told him, maybe he’d still be alive. Maybe he would’ve fought to get better. Maybe he would’ve tried. If you didn’t fucking lie to him, maybe he wouldn’t be dead and I could’ve known him.”

  “You think I don’t think about that every single day?” Her voice isn’t angry but solemn. She’s broken.

  “What about Dad? Do you even love him?”

  “Of course I love your father. More than you could ever imagine. I never meant to hurt him or betray him. It’s why I’m going down there now to fight for us, no matter what it takes. That’s what you do for love and for your family, Flynn. That’s what I tried to do with Jason, but the three of us were never going to work. I would’ve destroyed the business and their friendship. I would’ve had to choose and I wasn’t willing to do that. I was selfish. People make mistakes. It’s not too late for you to learn from mine.”

  Twenty

  Flynn

  The box is filled with a variety of pictures. If I had found this box before I went over to Liam’s I would’ve had a more concrete case to present.

  I still can’t believe I was right. Mostly right, anyway. I’m not adopted, but my mom was harboring quite the secret. I don’t know how to feel right now. The rush of emotions flooding my brain is confusing me. I’m choosing to focus on curiosity, and I’ll let the rest come later.

  This is going to define my life. There’s going to be two chapters: before and after. Before I knew and after I found out.

  I almost want to go back to the before. I wish I would’ve taken all of the clues and everything I found and driven to the ocean and dumped it all. I wish I never brought this up and imploded my parents’ marriage.

  But realistically, I know it would still be true no matter what. Whether I found out and drudged it all up, I still wouldn’t be Christopher Fletcher’s daughter.

  It’s better that I know.

  I think.

  I hope.

  With shaky hands, I pull out a picture I recognize from my fifth birthday. There’s a piñata of the little green monster from Monsters Inc hanging in the background. I’m holding the bat to my side and a man I hardly recognize kneels beside me. He’s fastening the blindfold around my head, unaware any picture is being taken.

  He has a head of russet brown hair and freckles covering his nose. I absentmindedly touch my nose, where my freckles are hiding under a smattering of makeup. He’s smiling, like he was in the middle of laughing at something ridiculous as the picture was snapped.

  I dig through the images until I find one of the two of us side by side. I flip over the picture where my mom notated the moment. Flynn’s kindergarten graduation. In this picture, we’re both smiling at the camera. It’s here I notice his big brown eyes, the color of mud, just like mine. His smile is genuine and his gaze is clouded with affection or…love.

  I don’t know if that’s meant for me, for the secret he subconsciously knew about, or if the gaze was from looking at my mom, who likely took the photo.

  How don’t I remember any of this? Seeing his face, there’s a blip of recognition registering deep in my brain but nothing else. If he was this prominent in my life, shouldn’t I remember more? Shouldn’t I have some latent biological attachment to him that helped store these memories? Or at least could help spark these moments?

  I feel like I’m straddling a fence between two worlds: what is and what could’ve been. How would things have been different if I had known Jason—my father—now? Would my mom ever actually have told us?

  I dig through the box, letting the questions build and expand. I grab a photo from the box that is obviously older. My mom is wearing a pink frilly dress and Jason is in a tux. I read the back of the photo, Senior Prom with Jason.

  They look happy together. Through the photo, I can see the love and affection they felt for one another. I think they were always more than best friends, but never admitted it to one another. Maybe they were scared, but something was always there.

  What if she chose him? Or if she never met my dad? I might not be born and I definitely wouldn’t have Carson or Lucas.

  I need to call them. They should know.

  Yelling commences downstairs. My mom’s sobs carry up the hallway. Glass breaks. I need to get the hell out of here. I can’t be here for this.

  I sneak out the back door and get in my car. Carson lives closer than Luke, so I drive to her house first.

  I pull into the driveway and ring the bell like a crazy person. Wren, my brother-in-law, answers the door and his brows furrow. They probably weren’t expecting any guests, but I can promise they sure as shit weren’t expecting me.

  He takes me in and his face turns from confusion to concern. “Flynn, come in.”

  Ava, the little twerp, sees me and barrels for me. I lean down and hug her. I may not be affectionate, but this kid has a piece of my heart.

  “Mommy, come look!” she calls but Carson doesn’t come.

  “Carson, you need to get out here,” Wren calls, his voice laced with worry.

  My sister comes walking out from the back of the house and stops the minute she sees me. “Flynn? What’s wrong?”

  “We need to talk. Call Lucas.”

  “What are you talking about? Flynn, are you high?” For the first time in my life, I don’t find those words funny. I look at my sister, my expression serious.

  “No, I’m not lying and I’m not high. Mom just told me everything. Dad had no idea.” We’re in Carson’s office. My sister and I are on the couch while my brother leans back in her office chair.

  Sitting across from them feels different, in a way. Sure, they’re still my siblings, but only half. It’s like a part of me was chipped away from learning the truth. I’m not my dad’s kid anymore. That part of my identity is a lie and now part of me doesn’t know who I am anymore.

  It’s no wonder I barely get along with my siblings or have anything in common with them. I’m only half related to them.

  My brother sits up, his expression earnest. “I believe you.” I look at Lucas, for any clue that he’s being sarcastic, but I come up empty. “Mom said something weird to me once when I was on the outs with Liv. She gave me this entire speech about how people make mistakes. I didn’t buy it, I mean, I thought her relationship was perfect.”

  “A mistake—she said that?”

  “Shit, I’m sure she didn’t mean it like that.”

  A harsh laugh bursts through my lips, lacking in hilarity. I’m sure she did mean it, just like that.

  “Did she tell you who your real dad is?” Carson asks.

  “His name is Jason. He was—”

  “Dad’s old business partner?” Carson bursts out.

  I guess she remembers more about him than I do.

  “Do you remember him?” She nods. “Before you ask, he’s dead,” I tell her, my voice devoid of emotion though I feel like my tone should be flooded with them. With something other than numbness.

  “I know. I remember it happening. Mom came home one night distraught. She was crying and yelling to dad saying ‘he’s gone’ over and over again. I mean, she was hysterical. Dad all but had to pick her up off the floor. She locked herself in her room after that for a long time. She was miserable. Then one day she came out of her room and it was like she snapped out of it and it was forgotten.” She grimaces. “I’m sure it wasn’t forgotten but I was around thirteen at the time; I remember because I got my period that week for the first time and needed Mom to help me.”

  Lucas makes a face, but for once in his life he keeps his
mouth shut. “Yeah, I remember that dude. He was a cool guy. I was bummed when he vanished. Sorry.”

  I’m a zombie, shaking my head, telling them their words are okay when they’re anything but. We’re tip-toeing around one another more than usual. It’s like they don’t know how to act around me anymore either.

  I’m jealous of my siblings. They got to know him, at least better than I did, and it’s unfair. That time should’ve been spent with me, getting to know me. Jason wasn’t anything to my siblings other than my dad’s ‘cool business partner.’

  We sit quiet for a while. I catch Carson and Luke eyeing one another, like, ‘say something, do something.’ I can’t take it anymore. I take matters into my own hands.

  “He was an addict,” I say out of nowhere. Talk about breaking the tension. “I guess that’s why I am the way I am.” I shrug, not sure how to feel or what to do with myself.

  “Flynn,” Caron’s voice is motherly. She reaches her hand out to comfort me, but I don’t want comfort right now. I want answers. I want things to go back to the way they were before. I don’t want anything to change, but everything is already different.

  “Mom and Dad are fighting now. At least, they were when I left the house. She’s lied to of us for all these years.” They go quiet again, and I want to shake some sense into them. Say something, anything! “What do you think will happen to them?”

  “Nothing. I think they’ll work it out,” Lucas says.

  “You didn’t see Dad. He was pissed and devastated. He…he wouldn’t even look at me.” That gets their jaws to drop.

  “Flynnie, he’ll get over it. You’re still his little girl,” Carson tells me.

  “I’m not though. I never have been.”

  I could use a goddamn drink right now. Is that because my coping mechanism of choice is my addiction? Or is it acceptable in this instance because I’m experiencing the biggest mind-fuck of my life right now? Where’s the distinction and how do I toe the line?