Crashed(book three)(112)

Baby steps.

Within seconds we’re on the freeway with the sounds of the Dave Matthews Band floating around us, the purr of the motor cocooning us, and the frenzied media following us. Colton looks in the rear view mirror before looking over at me from behind his sunglasses. “You buckled in?” he asks and all of a sudden my stomach twists in knots, fearing what’s going to happen next.

I don’t even have a chance to respond before the car surges forward, the motor revving, Colton laughing as the car flies faster than the press chasing us can go. I feel a surge of adrenaline and for a split second I can understand the pull of his addiction, but then I look up as he weaves in and out of traffic, and my heart lodges in my throat as the world beyond blurs.





I square up the documents on the kitchen counter. I’m satisfied with the transcription of Zander’s deposition to bring formal charges against his father. I tuck them in the manila folder and realize I’ve lost track of time; the clock reads seven-forty and the boys have to be at the field by eight. Oh crap! I need to finish getting the stuff together for their games. I rise from the table and start filling sport bottles and putting them on the counter next to bags of sunflower seeds. I strain to hear the commotion in the bedrooms and can tell that Jackson has the boys on task and almost ready to leave.


“Hey, Ry?”

“Yeah?” I look up to see Jackson leaning his shoulder against the wall with concern in his eyes.

“Zander and Scoot are still asleep.” He pauses for a minute and then continues. “Were you awake when Shane came in last night?”

I look at him, trying to figure out why he’s asking. “Yes. I was reading in my room. Why?”

“Did you physically see him? Talk to him?”

Now alarm bells sound in my head, and I stop what I’m doing and turn to face him. “Uh-uh. I called out his name and he said goodnight and went to his room. You’re scaring me, Jax, what’s going on?”

“Well, it looks like Shane tied one on last night. He’s passed out in his bed, his room reeks of beer, and by the looks of the bathroom he was reliving the night backwards into the toilet.” He has a half-smirk on his face, and I know it’s not appropriate but I have to stifle a laugh that Shane did something so normal for his age.

And then the responsible part of me takes over. I bite my lip and look at Jax. “We knew this would happen someday … shit, do you want me to deal with him or do you want to?”

“We’ll be out in the van, Jax!” Ricky yells.

“Kay!” he responds before looking back to me. “I can stay here with Zand, Scoot, and Shane if you want to take baseball today?”

“No, that’s cool,” I tell him as he grabs the bottles. “We’ll meet you at the field later to watch the games. I can handle Shane.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Jax says goodbye and as he closes the door I don’t feel so sure anymore. I sit down on one of the barstools and contemplate how exactly to handle a hungover sixteen year old. He’s the oldest and the first of the lot to go through this, so I’m kind of lost. Of course I was too scared to drink in high school—always the consummate good girl—so I’m on foreign ground here.

My phone rings and I look down, a smile immediately lights up my face when I see it’s Colton. “Good morning,” I say as warmth fills my heart. The past few days have been good between us despite the underlying tension we’ve blatantly been ignoring over the impending paternity test results. Colton’s been excited that he’ll be returning to the office next week, wanting to be there to oversee the new adjustments to the safety device they’re working on. I laughed and told him I thought it was funny that he’d returned to the track before the office, but he just said with a smirk that the track was a necessity and the office not so much.