Caught in Us (Caught Series Book 4), Kacey Shea [top 50 books to read .TXT] 📗

Not yet.” Though after what just happened, he has every right to. The thought of their disappointment piles on more shame and guilt. It’s almost too much to bear.

“And where does Matthew fall in all this? Does Chase want a relationship with his son?”

“We didn’t really get to that part.” I roll my eyes at Simon’s knowing stare. “I freaked out and shut him down.”

“We’re only here a week.”

I press my fingers against my temple. “I know.”

“Alicia,” Simon says gently, waiting for my gaze to meet his. “If he’s sober and doing well, he deserves to know the beautiful child you’ve raised.”

“I’m worried it’ll confuse things more.”

His brow furrows. “For Matthew?”

“For me.”

“Well, if there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you’ve never let fear stop you from doing what’s right. Now would be a strange time to start.”

He’s right. Of course he is. I pin him with a serious stare. “You should really become a therapist or something.”

“Ha!” He leans back in his chair. “I’m trying. I can’t find a grad school that wants me and my pitiful test scores.”

“Well, Matty and I reap the rewards of that.” I reach out and take his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Seriously, though. Thank you. For being here and for keeping me sane.”

“Always.” He grins. “Now, are we still pretending to be together for your brothers? I can’t keep track.”

“Ugh.” I wave him off. “No more pretending. Let’s stick with the truth.”

“I like that.”

Pulling out my phone, I shoot Chase a text before I lose my nerve.

Me: Come by tomorrow in the morning? Matty goes down for a nap after lunch, so earlier is better.

The wait for his response is excruciating. Almost five minutes pass, and with each second my heart falls with disappointment. Maybe he’s already changed his mind. Maybe we’re more trouble than we’re worth. I almost give up and resign to tuck my phone back into my bag, except before I do, it chimes with a series of text alerts.

Chase: I’ll be over at nine.

Chase: Thank you for giving me a chance.

Chase: I won’t let you down.

Matthew will love him. That was never a question, and I have to trust that Chase is as sober as he appears. I have no reason not to. I can’t keep Chase from knowing his son, and I’ve always wished Matty could have a relationship with his father. These are good, positive things. I should be thrilled. But somehow inviting Chase back into my life feels an awful lot like freefalling off a cliff. Only, I’m not sure where to land, and there’s nothing to keep me from getting hurt.

18

Chase

I’m driving when I get Alicia’s text. After the way she refused to have a conversation, I’m shocked by her invitation to spend time with Matthew tomorrow. Of course, I pull over and immediately accept. I’d be a fool not to take the olive branch.

I have a son. Me. A father. And tomorrow I get to spend the day earning that title. Establishing the kind of relationship I wished for as a child. The weight of that responsibility settles on my shoulders, but it doesn’t scare me. Maybe it should. I have no clue what I’m doing. But instead, this twist feels more like fate.

I have a son with Alicia.

We made a child.

My alcoholism and the mistakes I made in life led me to spending that summer in Kitty Hawk. Alicia was the first person to see me, truly, and not shy away from the ugly parts. We were both fighting addiction, but born from that struggle came something pure and good.

Our son.

A gift.

I’m overwhelmed.

My world is flipped on its axis. I move through the rest of the afternoon in a mental daze. On the outside I probably appear calm. Collected. But inside my brain is a mess, trying to process this life-altering news and coming up with more questions than answers.

I’m good with kids, but what if Matthew doesn’t like me? I’m a stranger, after all.

Are we going to tell him? Is he old enough to even understand?

Will he call me Dad?

God, I hope so.

I make three more trips to and from Alicia’s parents’. Each time I pull into the driveway I hope to get a glimpse of Matthew, but the estate is a ghost town. They must be inside. Or gone. I wish I could ask, but all my questions will have to wait for the morning.

After I’ve stored the last truckload of stuff in the garage, I hop in my truck to head home. I glance at the dash and realize I’ll be headed back this way in less than sixteen hours. Crap. I should probably prepare. Do I buy a gift? Plan an outing? I should do something. Right?

I want tomorrow to be special. I want to create a meaningful memory with my son.

I need to talk to someone. Cam would be a great sounding board, but he and Jill already have so much on their plate with the wedding and I don’t want to add to their stress. Plus, I’m almost positive Alicia hasn’t told Jill about me being Matthew’s father and she should be the one to break that news. Yeah, Cam’s out.

But who else do I call? So many of the people I would normally go to for support have ties to either me or Alicia.

There’s a tiny voice inside my head telling me to stop by one of my old drinking spots for a pint. There would be nameless strangers to listen to my woes. The alcohol would numb my worries. I tell that voice to fuck off. My brain feeds me lies. That’s part of addiction, but it doesn’t hold the power over me it once did.

At the next stop light, I pick up my cell and press Maverick’s name. It rings several times before connecting.

“No, my husband is not covering any shifts tonight,” his wife says without greeting.

I chuckle. “Hey, Vanessa, I’ve missed your voice.”

“Don’t try to butter me up.