Hollow (Heaven Hill Generations #4) - Laramie Briscoe Page 0,40

everything I’ve just said. “You’ve never, ever been second best to me. You made me a mom, and I’ve lived my life hoping for good things for you, trying to do the best I can to make sure you have everything I never did. I know it doesn’t mean much, but I’m sorry, so sorry you’ve had to see everything you’ve seen. I love you, and I want you to know if I could go back and change the last few months I would.”

“And I wouldn’t have left.” Dad’s voice is soft, not the booming baritone I’m used to. “I shouldn’t have left, even if that’s what your mom asked me to do. Neither one of us expect you to understand this. It’s a lot for us to understand, much less you. All we can do is promise to be better. We’re learning as a family. We’re going to fail and fall sometimes, but we have to give each other the benefit of the doubt. Will you work with us?”

I think about what he’s saying. Anytime I’m at the shop or around other members of the club, they’re always talking about falling, but getting back up. I’ve watched Uncle Tyler stay bent over a truck for hours, trying to fix a part, and it still not fit exactly how he wants it too. He takes a deep breath and comes back to it later, after he’s cooled down.

Maybe that’s what I need to do, take a deep breath and realize things aren’t going to fit exactly how we always want them to.

“Okay.” I hug dad tighter to me. “Mom, can we still watch TV tonight?”

She sniffles, and I know she’s crying again. “We can do whatever you want to.”

“Will you stay?” I look up at Dad.

“Whatever you want, bud. I’ll be here.”

It takes me a few minutes to get myself together, but somehow I do enough to ask Mom what channels she has.

“Looks like I have five.”

When she reads them off, I make a face at Dad. “You really are in hell, those channels suck.”

The laughter from both of them is unexpected, something I haven’t heard in too long. The last few times I saw them together there were clenched fists and teeth, tears, yelling, and a lot of accusations being thrown around. To hear them laughing is the best thing I’ve heard all year.

Finally all of us settle on a really old show about a fictional MC out of California.

“Is this where you all got the idea to be a club?”

Dad snorts. “No, they stole the idea from us.”

Mom giggles. “They didn’t steal the idea from you. I bet they don’t even know about some no name club in Kentucky.”

“Excuse you, ma’am.” Dad sits up a bit straighter. “How do you know?”

“There’s nobody as good looking as Jax Teller in Heaven Hill.”

Dad and I both look at each other. “I am,” we both say together.

“Y’all keep dreaming.”

For over an hour we sit on the phone with Mom, watching the show together. If anyone were to ask me later what the episode was about, I wouldn’t be able to tell them. The only thing I know is that my family was together.

Finally.

Chapter Twenty

Mandy

It was a miracle I held it together until I got off the phone with Walker; hearing him tell me about how this has affected him killed me. So often when you’re in a situation like I am, you have to focus on your own recovery, but there are so many people in the background who get hurt.

My heart is pounding, tears are running down my face. I did this to him. Me, and no one else.

Looking at the bedside clock, I notice I still have a few more minutes of phone time. I pick it up and dial Dalton’s number.

“Babe.” His voice is hoarse, damaged like mine is from holding back the emotions threatening to sweep through us. “The pain he’s in…”

“He needs to get to Doc Jones’ as soon as possible,” I whisper into the phone. “We’ll be doing him a big disservice if we don’t get him in some type of treatment.”

“I’ll make sure I get him there in the morning. I guess I just didn’t realize how fucked up he is about all of this, although I should have. He should’ve been my first worry.”

I sigh. “It’s hard,” I push out of my tight throat. “You’re told to worry about yourself, but then there are other people hurt by this. Like spouses, children, other