Best Laid Plans (Garnet Run 2)

“Hey, what’s u—”

“How could you let those kids stay at the house?” Charlie thundered.

“How do you know about that?” Rye grumbled, crossing his arms defensively.

Charlie’s heart was racing and he was vibrating with the effort it took not to scream.

“I know about that because I was just there. What is wrong with you? Do you have any idea what could happen? They could get hurt, they could burn the house down, they could...anything could happen!”

Rye glared.

“Nothing’s gonna go wrong. They just need a place to hang for a little bit. Once it’s finished they can’t come in anymore, probably.”

“Probably? They can’t come in anymore, period. No more. Done. Do you not understand the stakes if something were to go wrong?”

“As you’ve said a zillion times, it’s my house. Which means I get to decide what I do with it.”

Rage and fear mixed like epoxy and spilled over.

“Yeah, it’s your house so you’re the one who will get sued. But I cosigned the loan! How could you be so careless? Do you even get what the potential disasters are? If one of those kids gets hurt on the property—your property—you’re liable! One of them trips and breaks an ankle on a board outside and their parents could sue you. One of them smokes a cigarette and flicks it, the house goes up like a tinderbox and you have no recourse because you told the kids they could be there,” Charlie roared.

“Their parents are not gonna sue me,” Rye snapped. “Why do you think those kids need a place to escape to? Their parents don’t give a shit about them.”

Rye’s naivete was unbelievable.

“You think just because those kids don’t get along with their parents that your ass won’t get sued if it means their parents can get someone else to pay thousands of dollars in medical costs? Grow up, Rye. You’re leaving yourself wide open! And what happens to me if you lose the house, huh? I’m on the hook with the bank!”

Rye’s eyes burned and his mouth trembled.

“I never asked you to help me! You’re the one who rode in on your white fucking steed and told me I was doing everything wrong and you couldn’t stand it. Which, come to think of it, is exactly what you’re doing now.”

“Well and if I hadn’t, you still be sleeping in a rotting, falling down shack with your cat, eating nothing but granola bars and getting tetanus from rolling over onto a rusty nail in your sleep! Hey, the kids could live there with you, since you’ve all got about the same amount of sense.”

Rye’s quicksilver eyes narrowed.

“Sense. Interesting. You think when people don’t have any other choices it means they’ve got no sense? That’s good to know. What’s also good to know is that you’ll move heaven and earth and give up everything in your life to take care of your own family, but you’re not at all interested in taking care of anyone else’s.”

Rye’s eyes were so piercing that Charlie had to look away from them.

Rye turned on his heel without another word and Charlie followed him to his room to see Rye pulling a shirt over his head. He couldn’t coax a single word out of his mouth.

Charlie looked around the room that had been Rye’s for the last two months. His few clothes were still in his duffel bag next to the bed. There was nothing hanging in his closet. Except for toothpaste, he hadn’t bought a single thing since he’d moved here as far as Charlie could tell. He’d borrowed Charlie’s sweats and shirts for pajamas, and he’d washed his own same few garments over and over. He hadn’t bought so much as a pack of T-shirts.

Had he ever felt like this was his home? Had there ever been a chance he might stay?

Charlie’s guts were coiled in his throat, his tongue so dry he couldn’t have spoken even if he’d known what to say.

Rye stepped into his boots and walked past Charlie silently, careful not to touch him.

He shut the door behind him quietly, but it echoed through the house as if he’d slammed it.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Rye

Rye drove and drove and drove. With every mile that he put between himself and Charlie the storm clouds in his stomach grew. So did the likelihood that his car would crap out and leave him stranded somewhere in rural Wyoming.

But it wasn’t anger he felt; it was a snakier, sneakier, more uncomfortable feeling.

Disappointment. He was disappointed in Charlie.

Yeah, he’d known that Charlie wouldn’t like him letting River, Tracy, Nate, and Biscuit use the Crow Lane house. That was why he hadn’t told Charlie in the first place.

But over the last month, Charlie’d learned so much about himself. He’d faced demons that had been long buried, delved into his relationship with Jack, laid himself bare to Rye when it came to sex.