Bait: The Wake Series, Book One(114)

It stole my breath and it felt like my heart ripped more in a new place and healed in another. My shoulders fell forward, the weight of them more than I could hold up anymore. I leaned up and brought my dirty arms to my dirty knees, tucking my head in the hole it created.

I didn't know what to do.

I was sad. She could make me happy. Then she'd kill me all over again.

Blake came to me and knelt so that we faced each other on the grass. She didn't touch me, but if I knew her as well as I thought I did, she wanted to.

“Look at me, Casey. We need to talk. We need to be honest.”

“Honest?” I was always honest with her. It was her who couldn't be honest with herself, let alone me, or that husband of hers. “Haven't we already had this conversation before? Like fifty times? I don't need to hear it again. You didn't have to come all the way here to remind me that you don't want me. That you made your choice. I don't want to fight with you anymore.”

She bumped my knee, “Oh come on. You miss fighting with me.” She lifted her hand and showed me a gapped pinch about an inch wide, “Just a little?”

“You know what I mean. This isn't a good time for this. For what we do. I can't.” I sounded exhausted.

She scooted closer and threaded a leg underneath mine and wrapped her other leg around my back. She turned my face to meet hers. “Well, I miss it. I miss it a lot. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, but—”

She cut me off. “But now isn't the time to worry about that. We'll sort all of that out later. Whatever you decide I'll agree to.” Her voice, coaxing and smooth, felt like a balm on my soul. “Right now, you need a bath. You need to let me feed you. And I'm going to take care of you.” Her smile was warm and I didn't have the heart to refuse her. I couldn’t have refused her anyway, because I desperately need this. So much.



As we walked up through my mother’s terraced garden onto the concrete patio behind the house, I asked her, “How did you know I was down there? I was behind the shed.”

She laced her fingers with mine and said, “I could hear your music when I got out of the car out front. So, I followed my ears.”

“And how did you know I was here at this house?” My phone had been dead.

“Audrey told me,” she said, then turned to face me. “Why didn't you want them to call me? Why didn't anyone tell me?” The hurt on her face was as plain as day. I always knew that when she finally learned about what had happened, that she’d feel terrible I didn't want her to know.

“I asked them not to tell you.” It was the wrong thing to do, but knowing that my mother hadn't told me about her condition because she didn't want me to stop pursuing Blake still ripped at my insides. My mom wanted me to win her, even if we'd lose precious time together.

“Why would you do that? You know I would have been here for you.”

“It's complicated,” was the only thing I could honestly say. She took it for what it was worth and gave my hand a squeeze. Feeling her hand in mine really did help.

It didn't give me my mom back and it didn't give me back the time I wasted chasing her to spend with my sick mother, but it felt good.

She was right. I didn't have to have everything figured out right now. I just needed to feel something better. I'd worry about the rest when she would eventually leave me again. I wondered who would be here for me then.

The house was pretty much a mess. The last week hadn't been that great and cleaning wasn't on my to-do list. There were dishes in the sink. A bag of beer bottles stashed next to the trash can. Papers scattered all over the counter and plants from the funeral were dying all over the place.

“Wow,” she said in awe at the mess I'd let get out of hand. When I looked down to see her expression, she wiped it away and replaced it with one that was more nonchalant than anything, “It's not that bad,” she finally added with a small smile.

Her eyes darted around to the fresh vegetables and fruit I'd brought in from the garden. I saw a plan forming.

“Okay,” she said. “Since you're already dirty take a few of these,” she said as she handed me a half dozen ears of corn and continued, “and go outside and shuck them. Make sure to get all the silk off.” She turned me back around and pushed me toward the large French doors with both hands in the middle of my back.

When I got to the table and unloaded, she'd already run inside and grabbed me a bottle of beer from the refrigerator. I looked at it and questioned if drinking was a good idea.