“What do you know?” Garrett asks as he lets himself in. He looks good, or at least as good as a man who has spent three months being tortured can look. The bruises on his face are fading—his eye is actually able to open now—and he’s moving a little easier, despite the cast on his arm and the binding around his ribs. Thank God.
“Umm—” My brain goes completely blank. “That I’ve, uh—”
“Got an appointment in a couple hours,” Lucas comes to my rescue even as he stands up. “I was just reminding him that I’ll be back to get him at two o’clock.”
“Right. I’ll, umm, see you then.”
We both watch as Lucas leaves and then Garrett turns to me, eyes narrowed. “You want to tell me what’s really going on with you?”
“Nothing.”
He snorts. “Yeah, right. That’s why you look like you’re about three seconds from freaking the fuck out.”
“Three, huh? Cuz I feel like I’m about one second.”
He settles on the couch next to me, bumps me with his shoulder. “So spill.”
I haven’t even figured out how to tell him how I feel about Savvy yet, let alone the fact that she’s up and left me.
But when I just shake my head, Garrett stands back up. “You know, I’m still the same person I was before all that shit happened. I know Dad thinks I’m damaged goods, but—”
“Fuck. It’s not that, man. I know who you are. And I know you’re going to get through this and come out stronger on the other side.”
“So why won’t you talk to me, then?”
“It’s just—” I break off, try to figure out what I want to say. “Everything’s complicated and—”
“You think this is complicated? Try feeling like a stranger in the only home you’ve ever known. Try feeling like nobody trusts you even though you didn’t do anything wrong, didn’t tell anybody anything. Try having everyone look at you like you’re weak when that’s the one thing you’ve worked so hard not to be your whole fucking life.”
He won’t even look at me as he heads for the door.
Shit, that’s more than he’s been willing to say since he got home. Even the shrink reports he’s not saying a word. How the fuck am I supposed to just let him go when he’s finally reaching out?
I can’t.
“It’s not you,” I tell him, moving to get between him and the door. “It’s me.”
“Yeah, right.” He starts to push me aside.
“I’m serious, Garrett. It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s that I have something to tell you, and I don’t know how to do that.”
The angry, defensive look on his face doesn’t disappear, but it starts to fade just a little as curiosity takes its place. “So, just tell me, man. We used to be able to talk about anything, so when the fuck did everything get so complicated?”
I can’t help laughing. “Jesus Christ, you’re the one who got himself kidnapped and I’m the complicated one in this family?”
“Fuck you.” But he’s laughing, too, and walking back over to settle on the couch.
“Do you want a drink or something?” I ask, buying time as I try to figure out what to say to him. I know their relationship has been over for a long time, but I can’t help but remember Savvy saying he wanted to take her to dinner a few months ago. If he still has feelings for her…if he still has feelings for her, we are totally fucked, because I am not giving her up.
“I’m pretty sure the Percocet is keeping me buzzed enough, thanks.”
“I was talking about water, asshole. But whatever.” I get a bottle out of the fridge for myself and then sit down across from him. It gives me something to do with my hands, if nothing else.
I guess I take too long trying to figure out how to say what I need to say, because after a minute or so, Garrett lets out an annoyed sigh. “Jesus, bro, I’ve got another surgery scheduled for next week. You think we can get this show on the road before then?”
“I don’t know. You think you can keep your mouth shut long enough for me to say something?” I answer with a roll of my eyes. His impatience with my reticence is a lifelong battle.
“I’m just saying. Christmas is coming.”