Too Long: Chapter 30

Cody: Where the hell are you?!

Countless similar messages like that have flooded the chat throughout the week while I’ve avoided contact with everyone, throwing myself into the whirlwind of work.

I sent a message to the group chat once I landed in LA on Sunday to get them off my back. Not that it worked particularly well, given the countless messages and missed calls.

Me: Back home. Don’t want to see anyone. I’ll call soon.

But I haven’t all week.

I’ve let my phone ring out whenever any of my brothers try calling, and I’ve kept clear of my house until it’s late enough that I know they won’t come knocking. I need time alone. Time to organize my head and marshal the overpowering disappointment and hurt prickling my skin.

Every day, I rise bright and early, having slept an hour or so, uncomfortable without Addie by my side. I’ve slept alone for twenty-seven years, but a week of her cuddling into me has rewired my brain and now I can’t fucking sleep without her.

I’ve bought two more clubs, gone daily to every spot Nico and I own, then just either sat on the beach or driven aimlessly around the OC so I don’t have to sit home alone.

I wish I could say I’m climbing out of the ditch. That life’s getting better, brighter again, but the cold, harsh truth is I’m as bad today, five torturous days later, as I was on Sunday when I kissed Addie goodbye.

Another text comes through, the loud echoing in the still living room.

Cody: What the fuck am I supposed to do with this pen?! It got delivered today. You want it?

Ah, the pen… I forgot all about it. While Conor was running around like a headless chicken on Saturday, dealing with the gas failure in Pomona, I texted back and forth with Cody.

Get someone to make an outdoor pen for a big bird. I want to surprise Addie and get Jasper back for her next week.

She loves that bird, she spoke about him all the time, telling me stories while she was falling asleep, and I knew getting him back would make her happy.

A loud on my front door startles me out of my trance. The only reason I’m home at eight on a Friday evening is that Curly rang earlier to say the meet-up had moved from tomorrow to tonight. Instead of aimlessly driving around town, I’ve risked coming home to get my car ready.

Looks like that’s not happening because another resounds through the house, and then, “Open the fucking door, or we’ll break it down! I know you’re there! I heard your phone ping!”

Logan.

And that means they’re all here.

Fuck my life. I don’t need this. I don’t need to relive what happened; I don’t need to relay the story and feel my heart get shredded again. I don’t need their back pats or wise words, but I know I’m not getting away with it.

Running a hand down my face, I get up from the couch, butt the cigarette out, and head across the room.

As predicted, all six of them stand at my door, alcohol in hands, matching scowls on their faces.

“Look who’s alive, breathing, and capable of answering his phone,” Logan clips, shouldering past me. “You’ve got a shit-ton of explaining to do, bro. You don’t get to ghost us.”

They barge inside, scowls turning to concern as they take me in. I don’t think I look any different. I still eat, shower, and manage to stop myself downing a bottle of vodka every evening, but I hardly sleep… I guess it shows.

“I want her to have it,” I say, eyes on Cody, who’s picking out glasses from the drinks cabinet in the corner. “It’s not like either one of us has any use for a big bird cage.”

He turns, less hostility in his eyes than his texts. “And let me guess,” he huffs, flexing his fingers like he’s always done when he’s annoyed. “You won’t take it to her, so I have to. Fine, I’ll drop it off. I’ll even unload the parts, but that’s it. She can figure out how to assemble it herself.”

I nod, a silent .

“Oh, no, no, no, no, ,” he chants, handing out the glasses. “First, you’ll spill your guts. We’re not leaving until you tell us what the fuck happened.”

They all nod while Nico pours himself, Theo, and Shawn whiskeys, the others cradling Coronas.

“Where are the kids?” I ask Logan, easing myself into the conversation. Getting any words out doesn’t come easy lately. “Isn’t Cassidy in Milan with Blair?”

“She is,” he confirms. “Mia’s taking care of the kids. All the girls and Jack are at Nico’s, and the kids are having a party, so we have plenty of time. Start talking.”

They came prepared… made sure they had the entire evening available. Not that they’ll still be here in an hour. Well, maybe they will, but I sure won’t.

Knowing damn well I’m not escaping this conversation, I start from the top. Over the years, we’ve had to get together and talk through one or other brother’s problem dozens of times. No matter how big or small the issue, the seven of us together can find the solution.

They won’t in this case, but after years of listening to them vent and seeing it help them center themselves, I hope voicing the riot in my head will at least calm me down a little.

So I rant.

I tell them everything, how we met, how right away I couldn’t stop thinking about her, how much I loved having her in my house, how fucking amazing it felt to wake up every morning and see her face, how well we clicked, how fun she is…

They ask supporting questions, and I indulge them, painting a detailed picture of the whole week. I tell them how scared I was when she sat on the bridge. I tell them I would’ve jumped after her.

And only when I’m certain they understand how deep my feelings for this girl run do I explain it all went to shit.

“She never wants to get married,” I say, staring at the cherry of my cigarette. “Doesn’t want kids.”

“She’s twenty-two,” Shawn pipes in. “She’s young. Marriage and kids aren’t her priority. You don’t know what’ll happen a year or two down the line. You just met, Colt.”

Theo nods. “He’s right. I never considered a family until after I met Thalia. Maybe Addie will change her mind down the line? Maybe she just wants to finish school first? You’re making a mistake letting her go so fast.”

That’s plausible, but… “What if she doesn’t? I know every relationship requires compromise, and believe me, I’d fucking compromise on whatever, but … I can’t. It’s too big. I want a family. She doesn’t. She was very clear on that. I won’t risk spending a few years with her hoping she’ll change her mind, only to lose her when she doesn’t.”

Glancing at the clock, my leg bounces against the tiles. I should be on my way to the meeting point. Instead, I’m stuck at home with my brothers, listening to their poor advice.

They mean well. I’m grateful they give a fuck, but I’m in no state of mind for their visit tonight. I’m too impatient to press the gas pedal to the floor and feel my adrenaline spike dangerously high.

“Listen… I know you’re stubborn, bro, but this isn’t the time for that,” Conor says. “From what you said, you’ve not really talked this through. She didn’t even tell you she doesn’t want to get married.”

“Why did you want to get married?” I ask, my tone clipped.

As much as I love my brother, he’s talking out of his ass. I suppress my smirk at the last thought. The British company on the yacht has rubbed off on me. Henry used that phrase all the time during our poker nights, and it never failed to make me laugh.

“Why did any of you?” I continue, looking around the room. “Addie doesn’t need a reason to want a family, same way none of us need a reason we . It’s a choice. It doesn’t require justification.”

Nico nods solemnly, unnaturally quiet this evening. He usually commands the room, but tonight, he’s hanging back, drilling those black eyes into me like he’s trying to unpick my brain.

“There’s not always a reason,” he admits slowly. “There doesn’t need to be, but sometimes there is one, and you’re dumb for not asking.”

My head hits the back of the couch. They’re fucking exhausting. I know they want what’s best for me. And I know they might be right. Maybe Addie does have a solid reason we could work around. Perhaps she’ll change her mind at some point. She’s young, ambitious…

But is not enough. I can’t imagine my life without a family. I want kids. I want a girl who’ll carry my name. As much as I want that girl to be Addie, I can’t risk losing any more time.

I’ve waited for my happy ending too long already.

Balling my hands into tight fists, I grind my teeth. This conversation will run in pointless circles now. Back and forth, back and forth.

“You should get going,” I say, straightening in my seat. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”

Theo’s raised eyebrow has woven into it. “Don’t do it, Colt. Don’t go looking for a quick hook-up. It won’t fix anything and you’ll feel like shit tomorrow. If you wanna go somewhere, go talk to Audrey.”

“I’m not looking for a hook-up.”

“Then where are you going?” Nico pipes in, suspicion written all over his face. His commanding aura is back, like he knew all along something else was on my mind, something important, and he was just waiting for it to resurface.

It’s fucking scary how well he reads people.

A little over a week ago, my top priority was not letting my older brothers find out I’m racing again. They worry about me. We all worry about each other more than normal siblings, I guess. We’re so tight-knit it strikes everyone as bizarre because you rarely get this kind of connection with your family.

I remember their faces when they visited me at the hospital: the relief I was alive and all the they spewed while schooling me to not ever race again.

So yeah… keeping my racing on the down-low was a priority.

But now?

Now I don’t give a fuck what they think. They have their own lives. Something that makes them happy. Something that makes them calm. I don’t.

Racing is my way of unwinding. The only thing that keeps me the right side of sane on a typical day and tonight I need that more than ever. I’ve been waiting to put the pedal to the floor since I overheard Addie and Henry.

“

are you going, Colt?” Shawn emphasizes.

I snatch my car keys off the coffee table, rising to my feet. “None of your goddamn business,” I spit out, heading for the exit.

“You’re racing again?!” Theo jumps to his feet, running after me. He grabs my shoulder, forcefully spins me around, and slams me against the wall. My head bounces off the concrete. “Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell is wrong with you? You almost died last time!”

Nico’s quick to join, his chest heaving, mindless fury in his eyes. I’m pretty sure he’ll knock me the fuck out.

To be honest, I hope he will. A flurry of physical pain may alleviate the mental one tearing me apart.

“You’re not going,” he says, emphasizing every single word. He’s not shouting—that means he’s beyond furious. “Give me the keys.”

I shove him away, a little surprised when he actually stumbles back a step. It’s not that easy moving a fucking tank.

“Try and stop me,” I grind out.

There’s a commotion as the others scramble to their feet. I expect at least one of them to grab my arm and yank me back as I step toward the door, but they don’t. They’re all deathly silent until Nico speaks again.

“Do you have any idea what we all went through during your fourteen-hour heart surgery?”

That stops me in place. Not because he’s getting to me in a good way. Not because he’s playing on my emotions and I’m caving. No. Because he’s riling me up that much more.

“You have any idea what will happen to this family if you crash again and don’t make it this time?” he continues.

“What?” I boom, spinning around to face all six of them. “You’ll mourn? Cry? Yeah, I bet you will. But how long will that last? How long before you move on? A week? A month?” I scoff, trying and failing to control the emotions tearing me wide open. “You have families, Nico. People who always have time for you. People who depend on you and love you unconditionally. You don’t sit locked at home staring at the fucking wall for hours on end. You’re never alone. You’re never lonely.”

“Colt—” Logan steps forward, but I’ve had it up to .

“Don’t tell me I can always count on you. I know that. You’ll be here if anything happens, but that’s not the point, Logan. It doesn’t change the fact you’ve all moved on, and I’m stuck in the same fucking place.” I take a deep breath, doing my best to calm down.

It’s not their fault I’m alone but it absolutely guts me that I don’t have what they do.

“Racing isn’t the answer,” Nico says, though he sounds less hostile. “Risking your life won’t change anything.”

“I know. Nothing will ever change for me, but when I sit behind that wheel, it’s the only time I feel something other than disappointment.”