Page 19 of Brazen Mistakes

I hang up and trail after Trips, needing an actual person close to me after all this time alone. Add to that the twisting nausea from my conversation with my dad, and the continued buzz of my mom’s texts? Yeah. I’ll even take Trips’ shitty attitude over more silence in my room.

“Welcome back,” I call, as I catch up with him at the bottom of the stairs.

“Glad to be out of that hellhole,” he says, continuing up. After a second of hesitation, I follow him. He can tell me if he wants me to leave him alone. It’s not like Trips is ever worried about hurting someone’s feelings.

“That bad?” I press.

“Worse. And my sister’s unraveling. She’s going to make some mistake she can’t take back, and then our father will have her fuck-up to hold over her. He’ll use that to keep her locked into his shit when she needs to get out. It’s too late for Trevor and me, but she still stands a chance. And she’s going to throw that shit away.” His bag is nearly unpacked by the time he finishes his tirade.

His eyes meet mine, the blue of his as icy as the frost on the window behind him. “Fuck. If I was around more, I could actas a buffer, maybe keep her from spiraling. But being there fucks me up, Clara. And I’m no good to her drunk off my ass and ready to throw the first punch.”

It’s then that I notice the faded bruise color under his eyes, the blood vessels cracked around his irises. Suddenly, this burst of honesty makes sense. “Trips, are you drunk?”

“I stopped drinking this morning. I’m good.”

“I’m not sure you are. It’s not like I got promoted to confidant.”

He runs his hands through his hair before stashing his bag in his closet. “I was fucked up basically since I left yesterday. But I’m good now. I’m not the kind of guy who drives drunk or some shit. But I didn’t sleep. Couldn’t. So I guess, Crash, you have officially been promoted to confidant by virtue of you being here while I’m emotionally fucked up and exhausted enough to tell you about my shitty family.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He slumps onto his huge bed, his head in his hands, his shoulders folding in on him. “In other news, I have some really fucked up information to share with the team. It’ll hold until tomorrow, though.” He shakes his head, staring at the ground. “God, I need some sleep.”

“Same.”

“Tell me something good.”

Taking a risk, I perch next to him on the mattress. “I’m not sure I’ve got anything good for you.”

He tilts his head so his eye catches mine. “At least tell me things didn’t get worse in the last thirty-six hours?”

I look down at my lap, not wanting to bring him any lower.

“Fuckity fuck balls. Do you want to tell me now? Or wait until Walker gets back?”

“I don’t want to tell you at all. You’re going to be pissed.”

“What the hell, Clara? What happened? Did your shitty cooking skills half burn down the kitchen or something?”

“Why would you be pissed about that? Fire-crisped kitchens are the landlord’s problem, not yours.”

“Right. So not the kitchen, then?”

I tug my hands inside my sleeves, the urge to drum my fingers against my thigh almost unbearable. “We should go downstairs.”

Trips’ big hand traps mine inside my sleeve. “How bad, Clara?”

“We’ve dealt with worse.”

With a groan, Trips hauls us both to our feet. “Show me. If it can wait, we’ll deal with it when everyone is back. If itcan’t wait, we better hope that Walker is better rested than we are.”

My head spins now that I’m back on my feet, and I realize I haven’t eaten anything since the cookies at dawn o’clock. Shit.

I don’t say anything though, and lead Trips down to the kitchen, my hand still enveloped in his, my shirt an unwanted but necessary barrier between us.

Shoving the offending card and photo across the island at him, I slip my hand from his, moving to the fridge to see if anything looks edible. I end up with some yogurt and an apple when I get brave enough to look back at Trips.

Gratitude for whatever deity watches over me flares when I see Trips’ anger directed at the rectangles of paper in front of him, rather than at me. “When?” he asks, as I grab a spoon.

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