Page 106 of The Tangle of Awful

This nightmare is finally over.

Hugo

Two weeks later…

The bruising has faded on her body and the stitches on her neck are gone. It’s her eyes that still carry the pain from that horrible day. She’ll need to see a therapist and soon. Unfortunately, because of our name, we have to find someone discreet—someone who will take heaps of money to keep their mouth shut. I’m afraid that when the therapist opens Pandora’s box with Aubrey, she’s going to let spill a whole lot of shit that involves both me and my son.

It’s selfish and wrong to deny her the help she needs until we find the right therapist, but I’m not just protecting her. I’m protecting my son too. Hell, I’m protecting the whole family.

Aubrey’s not in her room. She houses all of her things there, but she rarely steps foot in there unless to grab clothes or a quick shower. As far as sleeping, she does that in Spencer’s bed or mine. Thankfully, she takes turns, allowing us each our time with her. Every night she’s with me, she wakes in a panic, gasping for breath and sobbing. I need to sort out this therapist and quick because she needs something to help her sleep.

While I wait on Dad’s text, I turn the knob to Spencer’s room and peek in on them. Spencer isn’t wearing a shirt and the sheets barely cover his waist. Aubrey is wearing one of my T-shirts. Her body is glued to his side, head buried in his neck and leg thrown over his thighs. It’s the same way she sleeps when in my bed, except she’s usually wearing his T-shirts.

I shut the bedroom door and head toward my home office. Dad calls rather than text. I answer on the first ring.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Son.” Papers shuffle in the background. “How is Aubrey? The girls are asking after her.”

“Gets a little better each day,” I admit, “but she has nightmares every night. We have to get her some help.”

“I think I found the perfect person. He can’t keep a job at any of the centers. Keeps getting fired.”

I make a beeline for the coffee maker in the kitchen, needing to shake away the dregs of sleep because this isn’t making a lick of sense.

“Why do we want to hire someone who can’t stay employed?”

Dad chuckles. “Because, despite not being able to keep his job anywhere, Tate Prince is educated, lacks family, not a local, and is drowning in debt. He’ll accept considerable pay for his discretion.”

My stomach tightens, not liking how deep Dad has dived into this for Aubrey, whom I’m certain he doesn’t even like all that much. I know it’s not just to make me happy. Dad is a great father, but there’s always an ulterior motive to everything.

“Dad…”

“Hear me out,” he says, a grin in his voice. “Mr. Prince would be paid to be our primary mental health care provider. Live on the premises and be available to everyone.”

And here comes the ulterior motive.

“Aubrey’s the only one needing it at the moment,” I mumble. “This seems like a lot of effort and money for a guy to listen to her a few times a week and prescribe sleeping meds.”

“We all know Dempsey’s out of control and could use someone to talk to,” Dad grunts, humor evaporating from his voice. “Callum’s had his fair share of heartache and trauma.”

That you caused…

I don’t say that out loud, of course.

“And Jude,” I say with a sigh. “He won’t do therapy. You know that.”

“Perhaps not directly, but if we can ease Mr. Prince into our family dynamics, it’s possible for him to help Jude inadvertently.”

“Jude rarely leaves his cave.”

“Which is why Mr. Prince will be taking up residence in that cavernous house alongside my father and your brother.”

“This is going to go over like a lead balloon.”

“Jude is suffering,” Dad says with a sigh, “but he’s not heartless. He loves his family. He knows what Aubrey went through and isn’t going to disturb that. Like I said, we’ll ease him into it.”

I try to imagine a day when my brother pulls the mask off. The fire that killed Mom destroyed my brother both inside and out because he couldn’t save her. Taking off the mask means showing the rest of us the pain and scars that were left behind.

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