Carry You Home (Carry Your Heart #2) (45 page)

I understood now why my dad wasn't barricading the windows or driving me to the airport right now. Because Caleb was calm, my dad was calm. Because Caleb was confident in his ability to protect me, so was my dad.

I was almost too afraid to ask, but the words fell from my lips anyway. "Who's got the first shift?"

His mouth quirked up. "Me."

Of course. Why would it be anyone else? I just rolled my eyes as my dad stood up from the table on shaky legs.

"That's good enough for me. I'm going to bed. I'll let you two kids hash it out for the night."

But when he took a tiny step away from the table, his legs swayed out from under him, threatening to topple him over, and both Caleb and I shot up to catch him before he fell. Caleb swung an arm around my dad's back to hoist him up and I slipped around the other side of him to grab hold of his arm.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he tried to catch his breath. "Too much excitement today, you know? All these visitors. I just need to lie down now."

"That's alright, Sam," Caleb told him and my head snapped in his direction. "Let me help you, okay?"

Sam?
Since when were Caleb and my dad on friendly, first-name terms?

"No, no," my dad just shook us off and took a few more unsteady steps closer to the staircase. "I don't need help. I'm fine. Just stood up too fast is all."

Caleb's hands fell to his side and he shoved them deep inside his pockets again. All we could do was watch my dad shuffle out of the kitchen and struggle stubbornly up the stairs at a snail's pace.

"He never lets me help him up the stairs," I whispered to Caleb. "I hate watching this, but I can't help it, you know?"

Just then, my dad stumbled a little on a step and before I could stop myself, my left hand shot out to Caleb's forearm. It wouldn't help my dad, but it made me feel a little better just knowing Caleb was there, feeling his skin underneath my fingertips. Then my fingers slipped down even further until they curled around his palm. He froze for just a second at my touch, but recovered just as quickly when his thumb rubbed the top of my hand. I leaned into his shoulder, basking in his strength and his presence and his scent and I squeezed my eyes shut just to drink it all in.

When my dad's bedroom door closed for the night, I turned just enough to wrap my free arm around his shoulders so I could press my face into his broad chest. My other hand dropped to my side as Caleb wrapped both arms around me to pull me in even tighter, to do everything he could to protect me from what was happening around us.

"I'm so sorry, Iz," he murmured in my hair. "I wish there was something I could do to make all this better for you."

Just him being here was enough, but I didn't know how to tell him that. I didn't know if I
wanted
to tell him that.

"Thank you," I whispered instead.

He leaned back and brought a hand up to my face so he could tuck some stray hair behind my ear. And then my lips parted and I let instinct take over. Something screamed at me that this would only make things worse, that I'd only get sucked in deeper, but I batted it down with a reckless hand.

"So I have this tradition."

Caleb cocked an eyebrow at me. "Okay."

"You remember what tomorrow is, right?"

He swallowed hard. "Yeah."

"Well, I always get
really
wasted the night before. I guess I just can't wait. Anyway, it's the one night out of the year I let myself get completely drunk and then I usually just sleep the whole next day away, which is kinda the point."

Given my family history with alcohol abuse and depression, I figured one night out of 365 wasn't so bad.

"Alright," his eyes narrowed a little.

"So what I'm asking is...do you wanna get wasted tonight?"

His eyebrows flew up into his forehead. "With you?"

"Yeah," I laughed. "Who else? Besides, it's no fun getting drunk by yourself. All I end up doing is crying and looking at pictures and crying some more."

He blew out a deep breath and his hands ghosted over my shoulders like he was holding me in place. "Kinda defeats the purpose of me being here to keep an eye on you, doesn't it? Besides, you, me, and alcohol probably aren't a good mix."

"Yeah," I mumbled to my feet. "I guess you're right."

He shot me that crooked grin anyway, the same one that made me weak in the knees, the same one that made me want to forget everything we'd been through, everything
he'd
put me through, and just give in already.

"But I'll tell you what. I'd hate for you to miss out on tradition just because of me. So if getting wasted tonight is really what you wanna do, then I'll happily keep you company."

A soft smile touched my lips. Yeah. I could live with that.

Caleb

I trailed after Isabelle, taking in the way she moved with lithe steps like a dancer, and I had to swallow back the lump in my throat when she finally sank down into a swing in the backyard. Following her lead, I dropped into the swing just a few feet away from her. She was still close, just within reaching distance, but the little bit of space between us seemed to take away some of the nervousness penetrating the air around us.

Isabelle rested one hand on the metal chains, swinging her body a little, as she brought the wine bottle up to her lips.

"You sure you don't want me to get you a glass?" I smirked at her.

She just batted her free hand my way. "Nah. This is easier. And
way
classier."

"Right," I chuckled.

Now she held the bottle out to me. "Wanna give it a try?"

"Fruity girl wine?" I grimaced down at the bottle and shook my head. "No thanks, Iz."

"Fine," she shrugged. "More for me then."

She took another long swig from the bottle and I had half a mind to just take it away from her now. While she wasn't even close to being half in the bag yet, I didn't exactly want to see her drink herself into a puking stupor either. If she wanted to get drunk, that was fine, but something told me it'd be way worse if I wasn't here and the idea of Isabelle alone, drunk, and crying on this night twisted something painful inside me.

Besides, I'd take whatever she was willing to give me.

"So what did Theo Wallace want?"

I wasn't sure how much I should tell her; the details weren't really important, but judging by the expectant look in her eyes, I probably had to give her more than the nothing she'd gotten from me earlier.

"Something I couldn't give him," I sighed and ran a hand over my face. Shit, I really needed to shave.

Her eyebrows lifted into her forehead and she stared back at me for a few moments. She swiveled around in the swing to face me head-on. The one time I got her so close I could touch her also just happened to be the one time I just didn't want to talk. But just like all the times before this one, I couldn't tell her no.

"He wanted to give me money to expand the shop," I relented.

"Wow," Isabelle exhaled and took another pull from her bottle. "I didn't know you were looking to expand."

"Yeah, well, I am. I've been shopping around some banks to see what kind of interest rate I can get on a loan."

Just when I thought her eyebrows couldn't reach any higher, they slid even further up her forehead.

"New equipment, more space, that sort of thing," I told her and batted a hand dismissively. "Anyway, I can get the money on my own just like I did the first time. I don't need anyone's help. I told myself I'd never put myself in a position again where I need to take those kind of deals to make ends meet and that's how it's gonna stay."

Her eyes flashed and I suddenly wished I hadn't opened my mouth. Given why we were sitting out here in the first place, letting all that fly was probably a bad choice.

"Why would he even offer then?" she asked softly. "There's gotta be a catch, right?"

"There's always a catch when it comes to club business," I told her darkly. "And the catch is that Wallace gets to piss off the Horsemen and he gets to shove his foot in my ass whenever he wants."

"Because of what happened, right?" she asked softly and at first, I almost didn't catch it. "With his family? He blames all of you."

"How did you know that?" I frowned.

She just lifted a shoulder. "Dom filled me in on a few things that day he picked me up from the gas station. Did he really lose one of his kids when he was in prison?"

I nodded and stared down at my feet. We were treading on some shaky ground right now and this conversation didn't need to push her even further.

"Dom said that was just a rumor he heard."

"It wasn't," I murmured.

She huffed a little angrily and shook her head. "You know, I can understand why he hates all of you, but it's not like you guys put his kid in the hospital or forced his wife to leave him. Those things might've happened even if he hadn't gone to prison."

"It's not really about that," I told her softly, my eyes still focused on the ground. "Guys like Wallace need someone else to blame for their problems. They can't accept that anything they've done is responsible. They need a scapegoat so they can sleep at night."

And
that
was exactly why I hardly ever slept at night.

"And those kind of guys," I pushed on with a heavy sigh, "are the kind of guys who can't be reasoned with."

And,
I thought grimly,
those are the kind of guys who won't stop until they've gotten exactly what they wanted.

"Did you let anyone know he was there today?"

I nodded and shot her a quick glance to reassure her that was all handled. "I called Dom after Wallace left. I'm sure the club met for church after that to talk about what to do next."

"What do you think they'll do?"

"I don't know," I shrugged a little too easily.

A few quiet, awkward moments of silence passed between us before Isabelle glanced at me out of the corner of her eye and cleared her throat.

"So, um, when do you think my dad's car is going to be done?"

I chuckled at the not-so-subtle subject change. "I think your dad's car is a non-issue since you've got your very own personal driver now."

"And here I've been so spoiled by all those
awesome
taxi drivers in New York."

"Well," I laughed. "You'll get the VIP treatment here. Trust me."

I might have been laughing, but the truth was, I trusted every single one of my guys, except for Lucas, to treat her like the precious cargo she was. They'd be polite, respectful, and most of all, they'd do whatever it took to protect her all because I asked them to.

"I figured as much," she smiled. "Saul was really nice, by the way."

"He better have been."

Isabelle laughed and in the moonlight, she looked like something out of a dream. Beautiful and just as untouchable. Just as out of reach.

"I'm serious, Caleb. He was."

"Did he happen to mention how we know each other?"

She nodded stiffly and tightened her hold on the swing's chains. "He did."

I figured he wouldn't be able to keep that to himself and it was just as well.

"Hey, um, I didn't want to ask him earlier, but...what did he do?"

I pushed out a rough sigh. That guy was my brother, my father, and my best friend all in one—if we hadn't come into each other's lives when we did, I didn't really know where either of us would have ended up. And even though it was Isabelle who was asking, I still couldn't betray his confidence.

"You know, Iz," I sighed. "That's his story to tell if he ever wants to tell it to you."

She nodded silently and I knew she wouldn't push. She was too kind-hearted and compassionate to push for more information. And now, she was quiet for a moment as she stared at the ground, letting the swing rock her from side to side a little, before she spoke again.

"I think you did the right thing."

"Even if it means giving Wallace more ammunition?"

I didn't need to add the rest because we both already knew it:
even if it means putting you in more danger?

"You can't predict what he'll do. You also can't waste your time looking over your shoulder and letting other people dictate your life."

"Thanks," I smiled softly.

"Besides, you said yourself nothing's going to happen to me. I trust you."

She had no reason to trust me, no reason to believe in me, but she did. That was all I needed. Before I could stop myself, my arm reached out until my fingertips brushed her shoulder, sliding all the way up so I could tuck some stray blonde hair behind her ear. Then my eyes dropped to the dark lines of ink etched right below her left ear and my fingers itched to trace them. I didn't know how I'd never noticed it before, but now I couldn't stop staring at those three tiny stars.

"When'd you get that?"

She just shrugged. "A few years ago, I guess."