Take Me with You (Take Me #2)(13)
Author: K.A. Linde

Vin laughed. “The library? You must be talking about someone else. My bro would never do any of that stupid shit.”

“Why is going to the library stupid shit?” Ari asked. Her voice was on edge. “Cheyenne was at the library with me. Last I heard, you two were still sleeping together.”

“Chey’s hot, but I wouldn’t fucking follow her to the library like my pussy-whipped friend.”

“Pussy-whipped,” Ari said softly. “You make a relationship sound like a tragedy.”

“Now, you’re fucking getting me. Relationships are a disease.”

“And you’d know because you’ve been in so many relationships?” she asked pointedly.

The guys all cracked up in the living room at Ari’s comment. I attempted to tune them out.

I was already halfway through the bottle, and everything was getting really warm. The liquor loosened my muscles and clouded my mind. This was fucking perfection. Soon, I wouldn’t be able to think about my shit dad or my uncle who hid things from me. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to hear anyone arguing either. I wanted to get lit up and black out.

“McAvoy, you got a joint on you?” I asked, interrupting Vin and Ari’s argument.

“What do you need a joint for?” Ari asked.

“Uh…nah, man. My stash is running low,” McAvoy said.

“Since when? You always have the good shit.”

“Grant, seriously?” Ari demanded.

“You decided to come along, darlin’,” I slurred. “McAvoy, will you get me something?”

“I’ll see what I can do, bro.” He apologetically glanced over at Ari before handing over his controller to Vin. He left the house through the garage to where he lived next door.

“Fine. Whatever,” Ari grumbled.

Miller leaned into her, and they whispered to each other, but I didn’t give a shit what they were talking about at this point.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and tossed it onto the counter. Now was not a good time.

“You going to answer that, bro?” Miller asked.

I glanced down at the screen.

Uncle Randy.

Fuck no.

“No chance in hell.”

Ari hopped up off the couch and walked into the kitchen. The phone went to voice mail. She frowned when she saw my uncle’s name on the screen.

“You should call him back.”

“Fucking hell, Princess. No! I’m not fucking doing this tonight.”

“Just talk to him,” she said quietly. “What if he wants to tell you about it? What if there’s news?”

The phone buzzed again on the counter, and I shook my head. She snatched the phone up and answered the call.

“Hello, Mr. Duffie. This is Aribel.”

“Aribel,” I growled.

“Let me see if I can find him for you, Mr. Duffie.” Ari laughed lightly. “Yes, Randy. Of course. I’ll remember that for next time.”

She put the phone on mute and then pushed it toward me. “Talk to him.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Grant, please. See what he wants, and then decide if you want to hear it or not.” She ran her hand up my sleeve and smiled sadly. “I’m here if you need me.”

“You’re killing me, woman.” I grabbed the phone out of her hand and stalked up the stairs and into my bedroom. I brought the bottle of Jack with me because I had a feeling I’d need to finish it by the end of this conversation.

I took a deep breath and unmuted the phone. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Grant, hey! How are you doing?”

Why was he so fucking peppy? Shouldn’t he sound as fucking scared and confused as Sydney had?

“I’m all right.”

Remain calm. Try to get through this one conversation without blowing up on him.

He was as close as I had to a real parent, and he wasn’t the person I was actually pissed at. I kept trying to remind myself of these things, but it wasn’t working.

There was a long pause before my uncle responded, “That’s good, real good.”

“Yep.”

“So…I was calling to make sure we’re all set for this weekend.”

“This weekend? What are you talking about?”

“Valentine’s Day. The big dinner you have planned for your girlfriend. I think I was on the phone with her.” He chuckled softly, but all I felt was panic.

Fuck! I’d completely forgotten about Valentine’s Day. I’d been planning to take Ari to Duffie’s and to our beach. There was no fucking way I could do that now. What if my dad was fucking waiting for me to show up? Was he in the area? I couldn’t chance it.

The whole thing pushed me over the edge—not only was my uncle refusing to tell me about my father, but I also had to cancel my fucking plans because of this shit.

“Do you really think I want to come to your restaurant right now?” I asked.

“I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t you?”

I blew out my breath heavily, plunked the whiskey bottle down on my nightstand, and threw my fist into the closet door. “Why do you think?” I shouted.

“Grant—”

“No. I’m not a little kid anymore!” I shook my hand out in frustration. “You’re supposed to fucking trust me and come to me like you did when you found out about my dad getting out of prison. You can’t fucking choose when to tell me important things.”

“Sydney called you,” he said softly. “Grant, I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t fucking say that!”

“I know you’re upset, but I wanted to try to make this easy for you.”

“By lying?” I shouted.

“No. I was going to tell you in person on Saturday. I thought it would be better to hear about it face-to-face rather than over the phone. I only checked with Sydney to make sure that your father hadn’t already reached out to you.”

“And you thought it was a good idea for me to come see you when you know my father has been in the area?” I asked.

“When I asked him to leave, he told me he was going to head out of town for a little bit, but he’d check back in.”

I shook my head. Was my uncle that idiotic? Even if what he was saying was true, I was halfway into a bottle of whiskey, and I still fucking knew it was a setup.

“Yeah, he’s going to check back in when I’m there.”

“And would that be so bad?” he asked.