Slow Shift, Nazarea Andrews [english love story books TXT] 📗

doesn’t talk to Ben, who would stare at him, wide-eyed and confused and earnest.

But he talks to Lucas.

“I think I knew he wasn’t a good guy,” he says, one night when they’re alone in the house, his copy of Slaughterhouse-Five forgotten in his lap. “He didn’t hurt me. I know Ty worries about that—my dad does, too. He wanted to. But he didn’t. I didn’t let him.”

Lucas doesn’t respond, but he seems attentive in that way he has. “I just—I wanted him to be a good guy. I wanted him to be the kind of guy I could count on.”

He closes his eyes and whispers the truth. “I wanted him to be like Tyler.”

It’s the first time he’s said it out loud, the first time he’s acknowledged it beyond panicked gasping denials after he wakes up wet and sticky.

He stares at Lucas, his cheeks burning and says, “I don’t want Ryan. I never did. But I can’t have what I want.”

~*~

Winter gives way to Spring and Chase slowly shakes the night with Ryan. He shies away from Tyler’s touch for a month or so, then leans into it with a greedy hunger that makes Tyler’s breath catch in his throat. He trains with a ferocity and dedication that Tyler hasn’t seen since the first time they started practicing together. He finally tells Chase it’s time for him to find a real teacher.

Chase scoffs and promptly ignores him, the way he does anytime Tyler says something Chase thinks is ridiculous.

He’s quiet sometimes, his gaze distant and his scent cloudy, but he’s coming back to life, slowly.

~*~

In early April, after his birthday, Tyler picks Chase up from school. That's strange enough, but the absence of Lucas makes Chase sit up straight, curious.

“He's at your house,” Tyler says, “Your dad has the night off and agreed to keep an eye on him.”

“Are you kidnapping me, Tyler?” Chase grins. Tyler smirks at him and slides a folded yellow paper to Chase. He stares at it wide-eyed, scent flooding with pleasure, and Tyler says nonchalantly, “You mentioned you wanted to go.”

Chase snorts. Mentioned. He’d told Ben and his dad and Tyler and random strangers that he wanted to go to the screening of the Star Wars movies in Clement.

At the theatre, Tyler waits patiently while Chase picks out an almost obscene amount of candy, adding Raisinets at the very end. He juggles the giant tub of popcorn and drinks while Chase bounces along with his plethora of candy, chattering a mile a minute as they settle into seats in the corner of the theatre, Chase tucked between Tyler and the wall.

He goes quiet and bright-eyed when the music plays, almost preternaturally still, and Tyler has to nudge candy and popcorn into his grip.

He wants to stare, wants to watch the happiness that shines out from him like a goddamn beacon, but Tyler thinks that would probably be weird. So he looks away, forces himself to watch the movie, and doesn’t react when Chase sighs and settles against him, a long familiar line of warmth.

~*~

It’s strange for them to leave the house, to go out and do things together. It feels like a part of the world they don’t get to have, a part of the world he’s never let himself ask for.

He loves it. The trip to the movies is perfect, a shining bright moment that’s marred only by Lucas’s absence.

He thinks, as he falls asleep that night, that it was as close to perfect as he’ll ever get.

~*~

It was the calm before the storm, he realizes dully.

He laughs, the noise echoing unpleasantly in the familiar waiting room.

“Chase, do you want to call someone?”

“Who?” he asks, his voice raspy and empty. “Who the fuck do you want me to call? My only fucking parent is in there.”

Marie Lodge steps between him and the doctor, blocking the man and everything he represents from Chase’s view. He gasps, his breath catching in his throat as tears burn in his eyes.

“Chase, I need you to call Tyler,” she says firmly, and Chase blinks.

Tyler.

Fuck.

The phone rings twice and he realizes how late it is as Tyler answers. “Chase?” he mumbles, voice sleep rough and deep, and Chase sobs.

“Chase?” Tyler snaps, and he sounds awake now, alert.

“Tyler,” he gasps, “Ty, I need—”

“Hey,” Tyler murmurs, and he can hear him moving, shifting. He hears the rattle of his belt and the beeping machines. “Talk to me, Chase.”

“Dad got shot.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence so deep it makes panic claw at his chest, then Tyler says, “I’m on my way.”

~*~

Chase is almost non-responsive when Tyler gets to the hospital, sitting unblinking in a chair. Tyler crouches in front of him, dipping to meet his gaze. “Hey. I need you to talk to me, Chase. What’s going on?”

“Dad,” he murmurs. Marie Lodge clears her throat softly and Tyler glances over at her before he touches Chase’s wrist gently. “I’m gonna talk to the nurse for a second, ok? I’ll be right back.”

Chase doesn’t respond, barely even reacts, and that more than anything else tells him just how afraid Chase is.

This isn’t like the night he showed up shaking and shivering after Ryan—this is something deeper and far more terrifying.

“How is he?” Tyler asks her.

“It punctured his lung. The doctor thinks he’ll be ok, but it’s going to take time. He needs rest and time.” She glances at Chase. “I didn’t think he’d react like this.”

“He’s terrified of losing John. After Nora—he can’t handle that. Even the threat of it,” Tyler says absently. “What can I do?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think we’re what they need right now,” she says, and Tyler resists the urge to snarl.

Chase is Pack. John is too, to a lesser extent. Tyler is always what they need.

“Just—take care of him. He won’t take care of himself, not right now.”

Tyler nods and goes back to wait with Chase.

~*~

John is in the hospital for a week—a week that Chase spends in his father’s hospital room, and when he can be