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

was that. Maybe it was the fresh sting of Chelsea’s repeated refusal to return, to even care. Maybe it was Lucas, who seemed more alert than usual when Chase was around. Maybe it was just this sad, lonely boy who carried a coat of grief and determination and cared.

He doesn’t know. And at some point, it stopped mattering. The why didn’t matter, because Chase did.

So he walks in quiet silence and Chase stalks along in petulant anger, jerking away every time he stumbles and Tyler catches him.

“Lemme alone,” he grumbles and Tyler pushes back the sharp pain the words summon. It’s not fair to be mad at Chase. He knows that, but he is so angry.

So he stops him, just before they reach the treeline where Chase goes home and Tyler turns around toand returns his crumbling cabin.

“You have to go back, but I swear—Chase, listen, I swear I’m not going away. I’m not sending you away. I will do everything I can to make your father understand that you need this.”

Chase stiffens, and his eyes are very young when he stares back at Tyler, hurt. “I need this.”

Shit. Shit.

“You aren’t the only one,” he murmurs back and does what he so rarely lets himself do, does what is dangerous, with the Chief’s accusations still ringing in his ears.

He draws Chase into a hug, tucks the boy against him and presses his cheek against the boy’s head, inhaling the scent of his soft hair. Chase is stiff for a moment, then he lets out a shuddery breath and goes boneless, melting into the hug as Tyler holds him close and safe, whispering, “You’re family, Chase. I’m not going to let him take you from us.”

~*~

He texts Chase on Monday morning, after two days of silence, a quick check-in that he doesn’t want to admit settles his nerves.

> Have a good day

< I’m still mad at you

< tell Lucas I miss him and I’ll read him the rest of our book next time i’m there

< might be a while though—dad wants me going to the station after school.

> Do what he says. I’ll talk to him.

> have a good day—and study for your history final, you’re still shaky on dates.

Chase doesn’t respond and Tyler smiles.

Then he steps out of his Mustang and walks into the police station. John DeWitt is still standing at the counter, talking to his deputies. His smile goes flat and cold when he sees Tyler.

“We need to talk.”

~*~

“He needs someone who understands his grief.”

“He doesn’t need a man ten years older than him to commiserate. He needs to be a kid.”

Tyler arches an eyebrow. “Was he a kid when he was taking care of his dying mother? Or the past year, when he was taking care of himself while you drowned in grief? Chase isn’t like kids his age. Asking him to be one is cruel.”

John grits his teeth. “Telling me how to raise my son is dangerous, Reid. You aren’t a parent.”

“But I have lost mine. I know what he’s going through.” Tyler stares at him, his eyes blazing and furious.

John shakes his head. “No.”

It feels like the bottom of his world drops away, something he’s familiar with, achingly so. “Sir?”

“No. Chase—you are not what he needs. And even if you were, he lied to me, Reid. Even if I thought you were good for him, I can’t just ignore that.”

“What are you going to do?”

John stares at him, and for just a moment, Tyler hates him—for having Chase still, for hurting Chase, for taking Chase away from him.

He hates him, and he understands him, too.

~*~

He has three weeks of school left before summer vacation, and it’s like being under house arrest. Ben’s mom drives him and Ben to school, and a deputy picks him up after, dropping him off at the station.

Chase hates it.

He hates the way kids watch him, even more now than before, and the way his dad stares, like Chase has disappointed him. He hates the way Ben keeps trying to make him laugh and gives him wounded puppy eyes when Chase snarls or stays quiet.

He hates how much he misses Tyler and Lucas, and the house they were building.

He has nightmares again, something that had begun to abate, and wakes up disoriented and aching for his mother, for Tyler and Lucas.

He doesn’t talk to his father.

There’s a part of him that knows he’s being unfair. He just doesn’t care, is lonely and angry and hurting enough that it doesn’t matter.

“Do you think you’ll be under armed guard during the summer too?” Ben asks and Chase—

He doesn’t know.

There’s hope that he won’t be—even John wouldn’t be able to put up with Chase in the police station for twelve or fifteen hours a day—but then again, he sees the way his dad’s mouth tightens when he glances at Chase’ phone.

He doesn’t text Tyler. Tyler doesn’t text him. But it’s like John knows that Chase is just waiting for the opportunity.

“My dad wants me to come down to San Francisco for a couple weeks,” Ben adds.

Chase goes very still, because he knows. He knows exactly what his father will do with him. So he sends the text, knowing he has nothing left to lose.

> do you know?

Tyler answers almost immediately.

< yes.

< i’m sorry.

Chase blinks back tears and steadies his shaking hands.

< do your exercises, ok? You don’t need me for them and they’ll help.

< we miss you.

Chase hiccups and the tears spill over as he sends one last message and then drops his phone in the toilet.

> I miss you. Tell Lucas I’m sorry, I’ll come back as soon as I can. I’m sorry.

> I hate him.

He stays there, as the bell rings and the halls fill with noise, and he feels his world shaking.

Chapter 4

It is a very long summer.

The year before, surrounded by cousins and isolated by grief, felt like a familiar memory, but it feels different somehow. This summer, surrounded by cousins, Chase is isolated by choice and fury.

He spends his