Page 1 of Beautiful Crazy

Chapter 1

Emmett

Last Year

My dick hurts.

I don’t know how long I’ve been standing in this shower, but it’s been long enough to have watched thousands of my future children wash away twice now. I tried for a third time, but my own body is fighting me. I keep trying to chase a feeling that just won’t come because my dick can only take my soaped-up fist so many times before it’s rubbed raw even under the continuous sprinkle of the shower head. Water may be wet, but it's definitely no lube. There’s a whole host of emotions going through me right now and all I want to do is feel good.

I imagine this is what it’s like for drug addicts and alcoholics. They just want to feel good. They just need a release from themselves for a damn minute. That’s what I need.

That’s what I want.

A release from this day. A release from this world. A release from my mind. A release from the devastating news that keeps playing on repeat in my head.

“Guys, the doctor said I have inoperable Glioblastoma.”

“What does that mean, Dad?”

“It’s a brain tumor, Ash,” Mom explains. “And the three doctors we’ve spoken to say it’s inoperable.”

Never in a million years did I think my world would flip upside down with just one word.

Glioblastoma.

“That’s fucking nuts.” I shake my head. “Nothing is inoperable, Dad.”

“You’re right son.” He nods. “But even if they do operate, they won’t be able to get it all and it’s very possible that operating at all could kill me anyway.”

“So, isn’t there some kind of alternative treatment?” Graham asks.

Dad nods again. “There are things like chemo and radiation that could help give me a few more weeks or months when the time comes, but boys, I don’t want to live that way. Chemo will just make me sick, and I want to enjoy the life I have while I have it. There’s no cure for this. My time is coming, and I can make peace with that. I’ve raised four strong young men who I know will continue the legacy of this fox den when I’m gone. And I’ve had the love of my life at my side through it all. I can’t ask for more than that.”

“But Dad…”

“Emmett.” Mom’s pained expression tells me not to push it. She’s clearly been round and round about this with Dad already. Once he makes up his mind, it’s hard to change it.

“How long, Dad?” Graham finally asks. “How long do you have?”

“Doctors are all saying about a year.”

A year.

One fucking year.

Dad’s outlook on life, although peaceful for him, is horrifying for me and I imagine my brothers as well. How is it fair that just as we’re becoming adults in this real world, he only gets one more year? None of my brothers are married. None of us have kids. He’s going to miss out on all of that life shit dads are supposed to be around for. He’s supposed to be around to hug me when I finally propose to the woman I want to marry. He’s supposed to be there to help celebrate when she gets knocked up, and he’s supposed to calm my anxieties when that first kid is born. And what happens when my job starts to suck, and I have a mid-life crisis? Who is going to laugh at me and tell me everything I’m feeling is normal?

And why the hell is my dick still in my hands?

Oh, right.

The escape that never came.

Even though I came twice.

“Emmett?” Emily knocks on the bathroom door. “You okay in there? Dinner’s almost ready.”

Shit.

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