Page 117 of Daddies' Holiday Toy
I can’t say I blame her.
Whatever her reasons are, I’m sure they’re good ones.
If not just to simply move on, then maybe to prevent her dad from finding out.
Me:Yeah. You know what’s going on?
Reece:No. But it doesn’t sound good.
Me:Agreed.
He takes a few minutes to respond to me.
Reece:Want to carpool?
Me:Sure. What time?
Reece:Heading out in 15.
I start to typeCool, I’ll meet you at your placewhen my thumb pauses, another contact coming into mind.
Jack’s.
It’s been weeks since we’ve talked.
Not since the blowout with Carson. Which, in hindsight, was maybe overdue.
I’d forgiven Jack for trying to play middleman between me and Carson for a long time now.
Hell, that’s always been his thing—keeping the peace when someone else is ready to throw a punch, and making sure whatever blow back happens, there aren’t too many casualties.
Carson I could take or leave.
Jack, though…
We were like brothers before Carson ever entered the picture.
We were the kind of friends who didn’t have to talk every day but would drop everything if the other called.
We stuck by each other when Carson bailed on us for Maggie, rode out every stupid bar fight together when we got a little too rowdy for our own good, and always handled business for each other when times got too tough to deal with our messes on our own.
It’s how we always did things.
Since that lunch, it’s been radio silence.
I could go months without hearing Carson’s voice and sleep just fine.
Hell, most days I’d prefer it.
But Jack?
That’s different.
Jack was…is…one of the few people I trust without needing to think about it.
These past few weeks, I’ve kept telling myself that if he sat with it long enough, really thought it through things, he’d see my side.
That Carson’s been a garbage father to Holly for years, and the rest of us, Jack included, have just let it slide because we’ve been too afraid to rock the boat.
