Calmly, Carefully, Completely(112)

“I should get you home,” Phil says. “It’s almost nine o’clock.”

Shit. I almost forgot. I nod and clasp hands with Edward. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say. He smiles and nods. Watching him is like watching a flower reach for the sun. It’s like Reagan’s tattoo.

“Mr. Caster,” I say, and I extend my hand. He takes it, albeit reluctantly. “It was good to see you again.”

“You’ll be seeing a lot more of me, Pete,” he says, and he grins. But there’s no mirth in it. It’s all warning.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, sir,” I say.

Phil nods at me, and we walk out to the truck. My emotions are on overload, and I want to hit something. “What happened to Edward, that happens to a lot of kids?” I ask.

“More than you could imagine,” he says. “All variations of the same scene.” He looks up at me. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you’d be good at this line of work.”

“I know. I’m thinking about it.” I don’t know if I want to be on the front lines the way he is. Or if I want to be a lawyer like Mr. Caster. I’m still deciding.

“Thanks for going with me,” he says.

“Anytime,” I toss back as he stops the truck, and I get out. I really want to go to Reagan’s, but with this damn tracking bracelet, I can’t. I don’t need to be there with her anyway. I’m too emotional right now. I could never be what she needs in this state.

I run up the stairs. I really need a good workout to get rid of this energy. I feel like I am two steps from losing control of myself. I’m angry. I’m angry at myself for ever f*cking my life up. I’m mad at cancer for getting Matt sick. I’m mad at my life. I’m mad at me. I’m mad at a system that couldn’t protect Edward or his sister. I’m just mad in general.

I walk into the apartment and the lights are out. Thank God, nobody’s home. A sliver of light shines from beneath my door. I open it and see Reagan sprawled across my bed reading a book. She sits up and brushes her hair back from her face. “You’re home,” she says. She smiles at me. It’s so pretty and so sweet and so not what I need right now.

“You shouldn’t be here right now,” I say.

“What?” Her eyebrows scrunch together.

“You should go back to your apartment,” I say. I mess with things on the dresser so I won’t have to look at her.

“No,” she says. “What’s wrong?” she asks.

“I had a long day. I don’t particularly want any company.” I know that I’m hurting her, but if she stays, I can’t be what she needs.

“Pete,” she starts. “Tell me what happened today.”

“What happened with you?” I ask. “Was your dad pissed you spent the night here?” With the ex-con. I don’t say the last part, but I think it.

“He was,” she says with a nod. She’s choosing her words with care. “But he’s my dad. He’s supposed to act like that.”

Her hand lands on my shoulder, and I flinch. She flinches too, but she doesn’t draw it back. I squeeze my eyes shut and rest my hands on the dresser, my elbows locked. I want to crawl into a ball in the corner and rock myself to sleep. No, I don’t. I want to draw Reagan into my arms and sink inside her and make her a part of me and let her take all this. But she can’t. She’s not made for that.

“You should go, Reagan,” I say again.

“No,” she replies. She tries to turn me to face her, but I won’t budge. She blows out a breath and ducks down to slide under my arm, getting between me and the dresser. I back up. I can’t be this close to her. I can’t. It’s not all right.