Letting Go (Thatch 1)

A hard sob burst from Mrs. Easton’s chest, and she covered her mouth to quiet her cries. “Oh God. Oh God.” She turned her body away from me, but I still heard her whisper, “What am I gonna do?”

“I can . . .” I trailed off, and felt sick at the thought. But this was Jagger’s mom. I couldn’t let her lose her house. “I can give you a thousand.” The offer came across as a question more than anything. “I’m sorry it’s not enough, but it’s all I have. If I could just tell Jag—”

“No!” she nearly shouted, and turned to face me again. “That’s fine, anything you can afford is fine, but you can’t tell him. If he knew about this, he would give me everything . . . I told you that. He’d give me money even if it meant he wouldn’t be able to pay his own bills.”

I looked around helplessly for a few seconds before nodding. “Okay. I have to write a check, though. I can’t pull all that out at the ATM.”

“Oh, Grey, you’re a lifesaver. I swear, as soon as I get another job I’ll pay you back.”

“I know you will.” I gave her a weak smile as I searched for a pen in my purse and walked over to my car.

Setting the checkbook on the hood, I wrote out a check to her for one thousand dollars. I tried not to think of the fact that I would now only have enough left in my account to pay my cell-phone bill and buy gas. I just swallowed back the sick feeling and continued chanting to myself that this was Jagger’s mom and little brother, and I needed to help them.

“Here you go, Mrs. Easton. I’m so sorry that all this happened to you.”

Pulling me in for a tight hug, she held me for a few seconds as fresh tears began welling up in her eyes. “Thank you, honey. Thank you so much.” Cupping my cheek for a moment, she smiled shakily at me. “You’re such a sweet girl, I’m so glad my Jagger has you.”

I watched as she turned and began walking away. “Do you need a ride home?”

She glanced back and rested her hand over her chest. “No, honey, the walk will give me time to think. Thank you.”

Once she had turned the corner, I got into my car and gave myself a few minutes to gather myself before calling Jagger.

“Hey, I was just getting ready to call you.”

“Sorry.”

There was a long pause, and just when I realized that I hadn’t said anything else, he asked, “You okay?”

“Of course!” I shook off the sick feeling and straightened in my seat. “I’m sorry, it was a long day, and then I got caught up at the end . . . I’m just a little out of it. But what do you want for dinner?”

“I already ordered Chinese so you wouldn’t have to cook or anything since you had to go in on your day off.”

A smile pulled at my lips. “Sounds perfect, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

After ending the call, I knew I was right in helping his mom and in not telling Jagger. She was right. Even though Mrs. Easton had always been a little flighty, Jagger would do anything to take care of his mom. Just as he had always done for Charlie and me.

I KNOCKED ON Graham’s door a few hours later after spending time with Jagger, and jumped back a little when it immediately opened and a big mass of a guy bear-hugged me.

“Where’ve you been all my life, girl?”

“Can’t breathe,” I choked out, and hit him as hard as I could. “God, Deacon!” I hissed when he released me, and hunched over to pull in quick and uneven breaths as I tried to fill my lungs.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Grey. You’re fine.”

I glared up at him like he’d lost his mind. “Fine? Do you know that it feels like being slammed into a brick wall when you do that?” I tried to hold my anger, but the face he was making made it impossible, and by the time I finished talking, I was smiling.

“See? You’re not even mad at me.”

Pushing at his chest to walk into the house, I shook my head. “I am mad at you, you just make it hard to stay mad.”

“When are you going to stop breaking my heart and realize you’re in love with me?” he asked as he slung an arm around my neck, pulling me in close to his side.

I barked out a laugh, then pulled away and skipped ahead of him. “Hmm . . . let me think.”

“Never,” Graham answered for me, and I turned around just in time to be engulfed in his hug.

“Come on, dude,” Deacon complained. “She’s breaking my fucking heart.”