When Snow Falls (Whiskey Creek #2)(68)
Author: Brenda Novak

“What is it?” Dylan asked, softening his voice.

Aaron’s throat worked as he swallowed. He seemed desperate to talk…and yet reluctant at the same time.

“Tell me,” Dylan prompted.

Rubbing his free hand over his face, he said, “I hate Dad.”

This wasn’t news. This was merely the warm-up. “Just Dad?”

He dropped his hand. “No. Mom, too.”

As the oldest, Dylan had known their mother best. He felt it was his duty to defend her and yet…what could he say? He felt as robbed as Aaron did. But, he tried, as usual. “She was mentally ill.”

Aaron lifted a hand. “Don’t feed me the bullshit you’ve been giving us ever since it happened. Far as I’m concerned, she took the easy way out. Bailed on us.” When Dylan didn’t react, Aaron’s hand shot out to punctuate his words. “Come on, you have to be angry with her, too! Look how much it changed your life.”

If only Aaron knew how angry Dylan had been. What did he think had fueled the rage driving Dylan at eighteen? Did he think Dylan wanted to get into the cage with some of those fighters? That he hadn’t been afraid of the experienced martial artists he’d had to go up against?

He’d done it because it was the one thing he could do to pay the bills when the shop wasn’t covering them all.

Rage had saved him, had made him an indomitable fighter. It’d helped that he’d had more at stake than his opponents. But the rage fueling him during those fights was mostly spent. Every once in a while, Dylan experienced a trace of it, enough to remind him what his emotional state had been like, but he’d learned to let go. Learned that he had to overcome the past or the past would overcome him. “Not anymore.”

Aaron’s jaw tightened. “How did you beat it back?”

Dylan often had difficulty stating how he felt, especially toward his brothers. He’d tried to show them with his actions, by the fact that he’d stayed when he could’ve taken off. But he wasn’t sure he’d ever actually told any of them he loved them. He’d kept a roof over their heads and food on the table, and he’d done what he could to keep them in line. That was more than J.T. had succeeded in doing once he started drinking so heavily. But Dylan had been absolutely inadequate at replacing their mother. They’d missed out on the gentleness and nurturing she could’ve provided. So Dylan forced himself to speak even though the emotion behind what he said made him uncomfortable, especially in front of Aaron. “I knew if I gave in to those negative emotions I’d lose you.”

His brother’s eyebrows jerked together. “You mean Mack.”

“I mean all of you. Do you think I’ve done what I’ve done just for him? If that was the case, two mouths would’ve been easier to feed than five.”

After hours, the office felt abnormally quiet. The workday was so loud and frenetic. But this silence seemed even more profound.

“I feel bad about Presley,” Aaron said at length.

So that was what had triggered this heart-to-heart. Dylan was relieved to know his brother had some reaction to what had happened besides his usual “I don’t give a shit.”

“So do I.” Dylan felt bad about Cheyenne, too, but he didn’t want to get his life tangled up with a woman who was always looking beyond him, always wanting something better. He figured he should steer clear of that emotional crash if he could. Lord knew he hadn’t avoided many other pitfalls.

“Where do you think she is?” Aaron bent his can as he turned it in his hand. “You don’t imagine…” He stopped talking the second his voice cracked.

Dylan felt a fresh burst of concern. “You’re really that worried about her? Why?”

“She’s gone, man!”

“But it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. You know Presley. It’s not exactly unusual for her to take off. She might not surface for days.” What he’d seen in Anita’s room meant it wasn’t quite that simple. But Aaron wasn’t aware of that, and Dylan wasn’t about to reveal it. Especially because there was still a chance everything could end well. They hadn’t heard from her, didn’t know for sure what had happened.

Aaron shook his head. “I shouldn’t have let her go.”

“Wait a second.” God, Dylan wanted a cigarette. He hadn’t had one all day. But he was still trying to quit smoking, to prove to himself, if not Cheyenne, that he was every bit as good as Joe. “You told me you didn’t see her.”

Aaron’s bad attitude reasserted itself. “It was only for a minute.”

“But you said you didn’t see her!”

“I wasn’t completely honest with you, obviously.”

Son of a bitch. “You didn’t have a fight….”

“No.”

“And you didn’t withhold any other information that might’ve helped us find her?”

“Of course not.”

“Then…what is it?”

His chin bumped his chest and Dylan’s heart began to race. “Aaron?”

“When I wouldn’t go over to her place she hung up. But she stopped by later. I asked about her mother, but she wouldn’t give me a straight answer. She was too upset. She wanted to come in—started kissing me right there on the doorstep.”

“And?”

His speech slowed, but he continued. “I felt like shit. So I wasn’t interested. She asked me if I had any pills and…I gave her what I had and sent her home.”

The possibility of an overdose crossed Dylan’s mind, as it had before. Only now he had to worry that Aaron was responsible for it. Shit… “She didn’t go home.”

“No.” He raised his eyes. “But if I had any clue where she did go, I would’ve told you.”

Disgusted as well as concerned, Dylan rounded the reception desk. “What kind of pills did you give her?”

Clearly uncomfortable, Aaron stretched his neck. “I didn’t have any pills. I gave her crystal meth.”

“Where did you get it?”

“Come on, Dyl. It’s available, okay? I can get it if I want it. You can’t shut down every dealer I know. This is on me.”

“It better not be Carl.”

“It wasn’t Carl. He’s terrified of you. He freaks out every time I get near him.”

“Good.” But Aaron was right. Dylan couldn’t threaten every drug dealer in Northern California. If Aaron wanted to get high, he’d find a way. “Was Presley already stoned when she came over?”