Risk (Gentry Boys #2)(32)

It wasn’t aspirin. I knew it. I stood up. “Let me see.”

Chase glared at me. “No.”

I got right in his face. “Give it to me, Chasyn. I’m not f*cking around here.”

“What are you accusing me of, Creed?”

“I’m not accusing you of shit. I just want you to hand over the garbage you keep swallowing.”

He was angry. Chase rarely got angry. He took a swipe at me but crashed into the door when I sidestepped him. He banged his shoulder, glared at me fiercely then stalked into the kitchen. I followed him.

“Chase.”

“Fuck off. Better yet, get back to your f*cking.”

I grabbed him, intending to yank his pockets clean if I had to tear his pants off to do it. I’d ignored this for too damn long. He’d had real pain after the beating landed him in the hospital, but the prescriptions had long since run out and he was still popping pills somehow.

“Fuckin’ prick,” Chase swore and he didn’t sound like Chase at all. His voice had dropped into something low and deadly. He got his knee up into my chest and drove me back. I blocked the punch he threw and tried to get him in a hold but he thrashed wildly. We crashed into the pantry door and I felt the wood crack.

“Guys! What the hell?” Cord’s voice bellowed from the patio and he came charging through the door, Saylor right behind him.

Chase pushed me off. His face was red and his eyes were hateful.

“What happened?” Cord asked with some caution. He sensed this wasn’t some everyday scuffle.

“Ask your brother,” I answered.

Chase sneered. “Yeah, everyone’s got a problem but you, huh Creed? You can’t f*cking face the world so you drink until you can’t stand. Why don’t you acknowledge your own goddamn frailties for a change?”

I crossed my arms and kept my face wooden. Chase was leaning on the kitchen table, breathing thickly. He might have been trying not to cry.

Cord looked from one of us to the other. He would never take sides.

Saylor was a different story. She went to Chase and put a hand on his arm. He hugged her, his head resting on her shoulder like a lost little boy.

“No,” I shook my head. “Fuck that. He’s got to deal with this shit.”

Saylor was already guiding Chase back to his room. She scowled at me. “You’re such a jackass, Creed.”

Cord came to my side while Saylor played mother to Chase. He slapped my shoulder. “Let’s go talk.”

“No,” I shook my head. “Think I’ll go pound on a bag at the gym for a while.”

My brother stared at me. “I could come with you.”

“I’m going alone.”

I left them all behind and walked to the gym. I stayed there for three full hours. When I got home Cord and Chase were playing video games in the living room.

“Hey,” Cord called to me. Chase didn’t look up.

“Saylor go to work?” I asked and Cord nodded. I thought of Truly, remembering that they worked together.

Cord, ever the peacemaker, gestured to the couch. “Why don’t you come hang out for a while?”

“I need to hit the shower.”

Cord looked at Chase. Chase stared straight ahead. I sighed and started to walk away.

“I didn’t hurt you too bad, did I?” Chase asked from his seat on the couch.

When he looked up our eyes met. I saw he was really still the same obnoxious little shit he’d always been. I was relieved.

“I might have a bruise or two,” I told him, stretching.

“Good,” he said, turning back to the game. “I picked up some burgers. There are extras in the fridge. I didn’t spit in them, I swear.”

I unwrapped a few burgers and stacked them on top of each other, taking a huge bite. Chase moved over to make room on the couch. I nudged Cord.

“You picking up Say later or did she take her own car?”

“I’m picking her up. Chase keeps wheedling the use of her wheels.”

“She loves me,” Chase grinned.

I swallowed my food. “I’ll come with you.”

“Huh? Why?”

Chase laughed. “Why do you think, Cordero? Big C got a taste of something he likes.”

Cord’s eyebrows shot up. He stared at me. “No shit?”

I was starting to feel grumpy. The boys would make a thing out of this.

Chase piped up again. “I told you they were headed out to breakfast this morning like a pair of senior citizens.”

“You’ve got a big mouth,” I growled.

Chase yawned. “Sometimes it’s an asset.”

We sat around joking a while longer but a sense of unease had settled over me. It had nothing to do with my looming fight. Cord didn’t seem to feel it. He appeared relaxed, reassured that whatever arguments arose among us wouldn’t matter, not really. But Chase and I exchanged a few wary looks.

I knew he had a problem. I just didn’t know what the hell to do about it.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN


Truly



I officially hated fried chicken. Seeing it, serving it, and wearing the perpetual smell of a deep fryer had officially turned me off the shit. Saylor must have felt the same way because she was looking a little green.