The echo of my nightmare lingered as I made sure the house was locked up tight, then climbed the stairs. I wished Callum was sleeping here in the room that had become his. I could go tap on his door, make sure he was safe. Or better yet, I wanted Callum right beside me, where I could touch him and protect him, explain properly… The ache in my chest wasn’t just for the twisted fictions my brain had came up with— Callum in danger and no way to help— but for real life, where he was facing shit without me, and my house was empty without him.
Let me help.I tried to beam the request across the empty space between us.Call me.But my phone stayed silent, and it was way too late for me to text him, if he’d even wanted to hear from me. I put myself to bed and spent the night amid fragmented dreams where the past and the present collided, and I woke desperately reaching for a man who was never there.
CHAPTER 17
CALLUM
Grandpa got home late, but I was still in the kitchen, icing my knuckles, thinking about Zeke, and cursing myself for being a fool. I hadn’t broken my hand, thank God.
I mean, an injury would’ve taken the choice to win or lose next Sunday out of my control. I actually thought about it for all of two minutes, imagined punching the wall again, harder. I could handle pain. But that would just punt the problem a month or two down the line, and I had stats to maintain. This was my future I was fucking with. I couldn’t afford to be on injured reserve for weeks.
Grandpa came into the kitchen and glanced around. “I saw my truck. Is Wayne here?”
“Been and gone.”
“Without the truck?”
“It’s in my name too. I took away the keys. By the way, all the bits of those shelves are in the basement, but I haven’t even started putting them together.”
“Probably a two-man job.” Grandpa slumped, his hands on the back of his chair. “I’m sorry. I should’ve insisted Wayne couldn’t take the truck away for days on end. Thanks for using your car.”
I waved that off. “That’s not the real problem. He’s using you. He’s a lazy, mean bastard and he’s taking advantage of you, every minute of every day.”
Grandpa’s mouth twisted wryly. “Not a bastard, sadly. He looks just like me.”
“You know what I meant.”
“Yes.” He dropped his gaze to the icepack I was clutching. “What did you do to your hand?”
“Scraped my knuckles. Grandpa, I wish you could see Uncle Wayne for who he is.”
“I do, son.” He took the melting icepack from my hand, carried it to the freezer, and brought me a fresh one. “I’m not sure what went wrong, whether it’s genetics, or the wider world, or something we did, raising him. I know he took it really hard when your grandmother died. He was always her little boy.”
“I took losing my mom hard, but it didn’t make me mean.”
“You’re a stronger man than he is.” Grandpa pulled out his chair and sat. I was struck by how he was ageing, his hair thin enough to see his scalp under the kitchen lights, deep shadows circling his eyes, the skin of his neck wrinkled and slack.
A fierce wave of protectiveness went through me. “You’ve done everything you can for him. It’s not your fault he’s like this. Dad wasn’t a bit like Uncle Wayne, and you raised them the same way.”
“I thought I did.”
“You raised me, in all the ways that count. I hope I make you proud.” My voice shook as I shoved away the thought of how ashamed he would be of a cheat, a weakling who gave in to threats.
Except it’s not that simple.
“You do, Callum. Every day.” He patted my good hand. “Even if you never make the NAPH, I will always be proud.” Grandpahuffed a thin laugh. “Not that a million dollars wouldn’t be welcome.”
“Is money a problem? Worse than usual?”
“Meh. I need a new refrigerator case at the store. Times are tight, people get careful with their spending. And I’m trying to stock more Canadian products, which increases the cost a bit. We’ll survive. I’ll find ways. Back when my father started Nina’s, we used to brainstorm every week.Where can we cut costs, and still make our customers happy? What do they want that we can supply?I’ve been coasting a bit, but I need to start working harder.”
“Coasting. Like, twelve- and fourteen-hour days?”
“That’s just time. I haven’t put in the mental effort, freshened things up. The “Buy Canadian” shelf labels are Koda’s idea, and they were right. People like to see it, even if they pick the cheap import next to it.”
“That’s good, anyhow.”
“Yep. Tell me. Um…” He hesitated, looking down.
