Page 145 of Fighting the Pull

It was Genny this time.

I looked into her eyes.

“Hurry,” she said urgently. “See to him.”

I looked to the house.

Hudson and Duncan were there.

Hale was not.

I raced to the front door.

“Upstairs,” Carole said when I got inside, her face full of concern.

I sprinted up the stairs.

He was on the balcony off his room.

I went there.

Approaching cautiously, I put my hand to his back and came to a stop at his side.

The wind combing through his hair, he was brooding at the sea.

“Hey,” I called.

“Give me a minute,” he said.

“All right. You want me to bring up your beer?”

“No. I’ll be down in a minute.”

I didn’t want to give him a minute, even if I knew, when Hale needed space, I didn’t push it.

But his mother had just called him a piece of shit.

Twice.

And he was so not that, it wasn’t funny.

He needed to know he was worth the time of someone who cared about him, and he needed to know thatnow.

So I didn’t have it in me to leave.

“I think everybody gets it if you need to take some time to unload on me,” I said to feel him out.

“About what?” he asked.

I started, surprised at his words.

But he wasn’t done.

“I mean, obviously, with such a loving mother, there’s nothing to unload. All good.”

Sarcasm.

“She’s gone now,” I reminded him.

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