Flexing my jaw, I know he’s not going to give any more details away.
“You bring me down here and tell me all of this, but you can’t tell me why you think it’s him?”
“This is still considered an ongoing investigation, Graham. Sharing anymore information I have right now could hinder the chance of us putting him away. I need you to trust me.”
I can feel heat under my skin, the anger building up. Pressing my lips firmly, I nod my head in agreement.
“Promise me you will leave this to us,” he commands.
Gage had so much of his life ahead of him when he was ripped from this world. Even though I’ve thought about this a million times and told myself he wouldn’t want me to feel the way I do I carry a tremendous amount of guilt over my decisions being what led him to be on the road that night.
They were my decisions that led to the accident and where he is now.
Gage grew up wanting to be a police officer. It was all he had talked about from the time we were young. I remember watching him play Cops and Robbers with his friends. Gage, without fail, was always the good guy. He wanted to be the one that protected people, especially the ones he loved. I wanted to honor him by doing the same thing. Gage was more of a big brother to me than my cousin.
“The minute anything changes, I want to be the first person you call.”
I curl my hands into fists, tension coiling in my body. Everything in me wants to grab him by the neck and demand he let me help, but it is futile.
I need to trust they are doing everything they can to investigate this and put the person responsible for killing Gage behind bars.
Reaching my hand out, I shake Keller’s and we both agree if we hear anything more, we’ll be in touch. As soon as I step out the door, I unlock my phone and press the button connecting the call to Dean.
“What’d they have to say?”
“Remember how before Gage died, Isaac Krate had been arrested for drug trafficking?”
“They think it’s connected to what happened to him?”
“He wouldn’t tell me what evidence they have, but they think Marc Krate has something to do with Gage getting run off the road that night.”
“Motherfucker,” he curses.
Opening the door to my truck, I climb in and turn the ignition. Leaning back against the seat, I run my fingers through my hair and scrub my palms over my face.
“Graham, I’ve told you from day one this wasn’t your fault. I still believe that today.”
“Dean.” I cut him off, not wanting to hear it.
“No,” he stops me, raising his voice. “You listen to me. This wasn’t your fault and it’s time you stop punishing yourself like it was. No one, certainly not Gage, would want you to continue to put this on yourself the way you have been.”
“Alright,” I say, hoping it will get him to stop. We’ve been through this hundreds of times. Nothing he says now is going to change how I feel.
“I’ve gotta go. I need to head down to the office.”
“Yeah, okay,” he says, sighing in frustration. “Do me a favor, will ya?”
“Shoot.”
“You’re home now. I know being close to Halle again is probably stirring up old emotions. I’m sure you’ve convinced yourself you don’t deserve her. Just do me a favor. Promise me you’ll take a chance to have a conversation with her and tell her how you feel.”
“Dean,” I warn. “Halle and I were over years ago. It’s better this way.”
“I don’t think, for a second, you believe the bullshit you’re spewin’. Do yourself a favor, don’t push her away anymore.”
4
Graham
* * *
Knocking on the door twice, I turn the knob and push it open a crack. “Mom, you home?” I don’t know why I bother asking if she’s home. I saw her car when I pulled around the back alley, and I can hear the TV on in the living room, but I ask anyway.
“Hi, honey,” she sings. Her voice doesn’t sound the same as it once did when I was growing up. There is a harshness to her tone, a sad realization every time I hear her that I’m losing another person I love. It makes me feel terrible when I see her, knowing she had been living through this and didn’t want to burden me with her health concerns.
I slip off my shoes near the door and take the steps two at a time until I reach the landing in our old split-foyer home. The smell of my childhood home still hits me and just like that I’m seventeen years old, living life without a care in the world.
Except things are so different now than they were back then. Life isn’t as easy in the real world as it is when you’re living at home with your mom and she does everything she can to keep you safe from the reality living outside your window. As much as she tried, she couldn’t protect me from everything though. Death doesn’t discriminate, and karma has a way of sending you your dues when you least expect them.
Stepping into the living room, I see the shadow of my mom’s hands on the carpet of the rug in the middle of the living room. The sunshine peeking in through the window add light to where she sits in her recliner focusing on another one of her knitting projects.
“Hi, sweetheart. I didn’t expect you today. What are you doing here?” she wheezes.
“I was going to stop by and get the yard mowed for you and wanted to check on how you were doing on food in the house. I was gonna pick up some groceries for the weekend, and I thought I could pick you up a few things too.”
Her scoff comes out more like a cough as she peers up at me. The tubes wrapped around her face helping her to breathe leave me with a weight on my chest realizing once again how different things are.
“Oh honey, you didn’t have to do that. I still have leftover casserole in the freezer that will get me by for the next couple of days. I don’t want you fussing over me.”
“I’m not fussing over you, Ma. I’m just making sure you’re taken care of. I’m in town now and I’m going to keep taking care of you, so please let me. Okay?”
It’s been a constant back and forth between us getting her to accept any help.
“Okay, dear, I’m sorry. It’s an adjustment seeing you come around so much. I know you’re busy getting things up and running over there at your new business. I don’t want your old ma to be a thorn in your side. How are things, by the way? I heard you on the phone the last time you were over here; sounds like there were some troubles.”
Her hands continue to shake as she glances back down at the needle, wrapping another piece of yarn around it before doing the same to the other side. My eyebrows pinch together listening to her talk.
I know if I don’t tell her what’s going on, she’ll only push me to tell her. If I’m talking, that means she’s quietly listening, so I take a seat across from her on the couch and tell her everything that’s going on.
We are only a couple weeks away from our opening and we’ve already managed to land several large clients, leading to us opening another branch in the Chicago area. Dean and I both agreed with my mom’s health declining, it only made sense for me to run the Everton branch while he stayed back in Chicago and worked with Craig to get the Chicago location off the ground.