Page 61 of Cherished Lands
"Like what?"
"Like I'm everything. Like in that moment, I'm his whole world."
Elena was quiet for a long moment. "Tess, honey... I think you might be in tr?—"
"What the fuck?" I pulled up to the construction site. Through my windshield, I could see Chase operating the forklift. "Hold on, Lane. Something's wrong."
"What is it?"
I watched Chase's unsteady movements with the machine. My stomach dropped as I saw his truck parked at an angle, driver's door hanging open. "I've got to go. I'll call you back."
I ended the call, already climbing out of my SUV. The metallic glint of beer cans in Chase's truck bed confirmed my worst suspicions.
Shit.
"Chase!" I called out, my boots crunching across the frozen ground. "Want to take a break?"
The forklift lurched wildly as he swung it around. I took an instinctive step back.
"Well if it isn't my favorite sister-in-law!" Chase's usual easy smile looked wrong, stretched too wide. "Come to check on your investment,Princess?"
"Something like that." I moved closer, catching the sour smell of stale beer. His eyes were bloodshot, and his shirt was wrinkled and stained. "Maybe I could use your help with some paperwork?"
"Nah, I'm good out here." He gestured expansively, nearly losing his balance on the seat. "Someone's gotta do the real work while Elliot's busy playing house with you."
Jesus.Drunk Chase was mean Chase.
"Just let me?—"
He spun the forklift again and rolled toward a stack of construction materials. An ugly, crunching groan ripped through the air as the forks caught on something, and the whole machine tilted sideways.
"Watch out!" I screamed as boxes began to slide.
One of the workers dove out of the way as pallets crashed down. The sound of splintering wood and shattering equipment echoed across the site.
"Whoops." Chase let out a high-pitched giggle. "Good thing we're rich now, right, Sis?"
"Chase, please. Come inside. We need to?—"
"Actually, I'm done for the day. Got better things to do than play foreman for my brother's sugar mama."
He stumbled from the cab of the forklift and swayed on hisfeet. I watched helplessly as he weaved toward his truck. Behind me, angry voices rose from the construction crew as they surveyed the damage.
Fuck. What am I supposed to tell Elliot?
I took out my phone and pulled up Elliot's number. But what would I even say?Hey, Husband. Your brother just showed up wasted, destroyed thousands in equipment, and called me your sugar mama before driving off drunk?
Mike approached, hard hat in hand. "Mrs. Everton? The hydraulic lift was in those crates. We can't continue without it."
The 'Mrs. Everton' felt different when it wasn't coming from Emma or the gossipy church ladies. This was business. This was my investment Chase had just fucked with.
"I'll handle the equipment replacement," I said, already pulling up our supplier's contact. "And the overtime for your crew to make up lost time."
"With all due respect, ma'am..." Mike glanced at Chase's truck, now fishtailing down the access road. "Maybe the equipment isn't the biggest issue here."
He was right. Chase drinking in the morning, the cruel edge to his words, the reckless driving. Broken machinery could be fixed or replaced with a phone call. Broken people were more complicated.
I'd worna path in the reclaimed hardwood floors by the time Elliot's truck rumbled up the gravel drive. The impending argument played out in my head for the hundredth time as I listened to his boots on the porch, the familiar jingle of his keys.
