Sometimes Never (34 page)

             
My stomach twisted painfully.
This is better?
“Alcoholics go to AA. How do we get you where you don’t do it at all?”

             
Hope turned quickly and placed her hands on her hips. “Don’t judge me, Mason. You’ve told me what you did to help deal with your dad’s death. Just because you do things in a different screwed up way doesn’t mean they’re any less screwed up.”

             
I recoiled at that. She’s right. I know she is. But it was still a low blow. She might as well have slapped me in the face. I don’t throw her mom in her face. And yes, I did try to fuck the pain away. It never worked. “I’m not judging you,” I sighed. “I’m worrying about you.”

             
Dropping her hands, she stepped into me, pressing her body against mine in apology. “This is a lot. Guy is…” She squeezed her eyes closed tightly, moisture forming on her lashes. “If he dies, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

             
I grabbed her hard, hugging her to me. I wanted to promise her he wouldn’t die, but I couldn’t go there. We’ve both seen how easy someone can be taken. So I just held onto her, skimming my fingers through her hair over and over.

I rub my eyes and open the front door. Kellin yawns as he moves past me. He drops to the couch and is out in seconds. Besides the long night, the conversation on the car ride home was emotionally draining. But in the end, I think Kellin understood about Hope. It freaked him out and I know he’s far from comfortable about it, but he agreed to keep quiet. I know it’s as fucked up as a situation can get and I hate to ask that of him, but Hope’s got enough shit to deal with at the moment. I promised him I was taking care of it, and I think out of everything I’ve ever done, that could be the lie that sends me to hell. Because I don’t know how to help her. But I will find a way. I have to.

Mom’s in the kitchen and the sight of her in front of the stove doesn’t match the delicious smell wafting through the air. “Hey
,” I say.

             
She comes around the bar and hugs me. “How are they?” She leans back and touches my cheeks for a moment. “You look like shit.”

             
“Don’t say shit, Mom.”

             
She smiles weakly and backs up. “Any news?”

             
I sit on the stool and let my head thud onto the counter. “Guy’s out of surgery. We can go up when he wakes up and gets moved to his own room.”

             
“How’s Hope?”

             
I raise my head and rest it on a fist. “She’s a mess. She expects everyone she cares about to leave her on a good day, so this is… She’s not taking it well.”

             
Mom nods. “Mm. Glass half empty girl.”

             
“It’s more like she assumes someone emptied half her glass just to mess with her.”

             
She moves back to the stove. “She has good reason to feel jilted, Mace. The poor girl’s had a shit life.” All her attention is focused on the pan in front of her. “You know better than anyone how hard the loss of a parent can be.”

             
Yeah. I do.

             
“It’s my fault they were in the accident,” I say. Mom looks at me, brows raised. “I waited all night for her to call me on it. I just waited, thinking he was going to die and she would realize I could’ve prevented it, she’d hate me, and I’d lose a friend and the only girl I’ve ever cared about. Then he gets out of surgery and I think it’ll only be half as bad. I figure it’s coming, any moment she’ll say it. Break things off with me. Now that he’s in the clear, ya know? But nothing. I’m terrified to go back.”

             
“How is any of this your fault?”

             
I rub my forehead, trying to smooth away the stress induced pain there. “She asked me to stop Park from driving, but I stayed with her. It would’ve taken me a minute to run outside and tell them to give me the keys.”

             
“Did you give them the alcohol? Make them drink?”

             
“You know I didn’t,” I say. I know what she’s doing. She’s always been big on taking responsibility for your actions. But that’s exactly what I’m trying to do.

             
“They knew they shouldn’t drink and drive. They made a choice.” She touches my shoulder and I look up at her. “It’s not your fault. That’s why Hope isn’t blaming you.”

             
I don’t say anything. There’s no point arguing with Mom, whether she’s wrong or not. I let it go and change the subject. “What are you making?”

             
She spins around and peeks into the pan. “Vegetable soup. I’ll bring it by later. I figure it will be easy to heat up and should feed all those kids.”

             
“Don’t you think they’ve suffered enough?” I say with a smirk.

             
She glances over her shoulder and gives me the Mom Glare. “I got the recipe off the internet. It was really easy. I don’t think I can screw this up. Plus,” she adds, stirring the soup gently, “I’m cooking it on a low heat so I can’t burn it.”

             
I grin. She can burn anything. It took her nearly a year to get grilled cheese down. “Just test it out before you make the trip over to Hope’s. Maybe wait an hour after you eat it, too.”

             
“Why?” She sips broth from the spoon and shrugs.

             
“If you can keep it down that long we’ll know you won’t accidentally poison everyone.” I chuckle and she throws the spoon at me.

             
“Go away. Don’t you need a shower?”

             
I stand up and lean over the counter, kissing her on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom. They’ll appreciate it, I’m sure.”

             
She smiles and shoos me off. “Get out of here.” I’m halfway down the hall when she calls my name.

             
“Yeah?”

             
“I love you.”

             
“Love you too.”

             
She never misses an opportunity to say it. You never know when you can run out of chances.

*******

              Everyone’s sitting on the floor in the living room, a plate full of cookies in front of them. Cartoons play loudly on the TV. Dylan and Chase are playing a game of Go Fish. Archer’s glued to Hope, his fingers buried in her wet hair. I lower myself beside her and Addie crawls onto my lap. I’m surprised because she’s always seemed scared of me, but she acts like this is an everyday occurrence. She offers me a cookie, the chocolate is slightly melted from her hand, but I eat it anyway. It’s really good and I wink at Hope, letting her know.

             
“Where’s Annie?” I ask, just noticing she’s not here.

             
“Staying as far away from Hope as she can,” Chase says.

             
My gaze flicks to hers quickly. “What happened?”

             
Her lips form a thin line and she sighs. “Nothing.”

             
Chase squints. “That’s bull sh—poop.” He glances at Addie then back to me. “She was talking a bunch of poop. Saying Hope shouldn’t have started a fight last night.”

             
“Wait. What?” I look at Hope, my brows furrowed. “She’s blaming you?”

             
“It’s fine,” she says quietly.

             
No it’s not. Not at all. It’s messed up and seriously pisses me off.

             
“Technically,” Chase says, “I started the fight. But if she hadn’t been such a B.I.T.C.H. and spread your business to all her friends, none of that shit—poop would’ve happened in the first place.”

             
“Christian started the fight,” I correct. “You threw the first punch and Bailey talked crap, but he went too far.”

             
“Regardless of who started the fight, it didn’t cause the accident,” Chase says. “Park’s a dumb butt for driving drunk and when he gets out of lock up, I’m going to kick his butt.”

             
I look over at Hope. She’s been quiet through our back and forth. I bump her shoulder with mine. She closes her eyes and I get nervous. Right here would be a good time for her to accuse me. To blame me. I scoot Addie onto the floor and take Asher from Hope, handing him off to Chase.

             
Hope looks up at me confused when I stand and grab her hands. “Come with me,” I say quietly.

             
She lets me help her up and follows me into the kitchen, but I can tell she doesn’t want to talk right now. I could hold off, but it’s like waiting for the executioner. I’d rather have my heart ripped out quickly.

             
I take a deep breath and just say it. “I know I’m responsible for the accident. I know I should have listened to you and stopped them. I know I fucked up and it’s a huge fuck up. What I don’t know—what I need to know—is what you’re going to do about it.”

             
Hope blinks slowly, her mouth opening, but she doesn’t say anything. She just stares at me. For way too long.

             
“Say something,” I whisper.

             
“I did,” she says so softly I almost miss it.

             
“What?”

             
“I did blame you. For a split second, that exact thought ran through my head. I’m human. It happens.” She pulls her fingers through her hair, tugging on the ends. “Then I blamed Chase because he did hit Christian first. And then I blamed Annie because she couldn’t keep her stupid mouth shut. Hell, Mason, I even blamed my mom for giving Annie something to tell. I blamed Park for being the freaking idiot to get behind the wheel when he was drunk, especially knowing it’s how my mom died. After Guy made it through his surgery, I decided it was his fault. He was the one that insisted on playing that dumbass party and Donnie was his uncle. He should never have let Park drive or even got in the car with him in the first place knowing he had been drinking. But after Annie freaked out on me, I realized everything that happened was because of me.”

             
I feel my eyebrows crinkle. And I know I’m squinting at her, but I wasn’t expecting that. My brain’s trying to switch gears because what I had anticipated was her breaking up with me. I’m stuck between relief that she doesn’t hate me, feeling like an asshole that I was worried about myself, and a sick, nauseated feeling that she thinks she caused this. Above all that, I’m silently thanking God that nobody died because I don’t know what she would have done to herself thinking it was her fault.

             
“Bailey was talking about me. About my mom. I was jealous that she was touching you. I was embarrassed of the things she said to you. In front of everybody. Embarrassed they were true. I shouldn’t have let it bother me. I should’ve let it go.  Christian said that stuff about me because I humiliated him in front of his friends at school. It all comes back to me. So I don’t blame you for anything.”

             
I should have seen this coming. In hindsight, I can’t believe I didn’t. Hope always tries to find herself guilty. I guess then it helps all that shit that happened to her as a kid make sense in her mind. But she didn’t deserve it no matter how much she tries to convince herself she did.

             
I want to hit something so bad because I don’t know how to make her see she’s wrong. I don’t know anything when it comes to Hope. I can’t make her quit hurting herself. I can’t take her pain away. I can’t make her stop blaming herself.

             
I’m completely useless.

             
I press her into the counter with my chest and place my hands on each side of her, locking her in place. “You didn’t cause this.” My forehead touches hers and I gaze into her eyes, refusing to let her look away. “You didn’t cause any of this.”

             
She tries to shake her head, but I press against her harder. “This wasn’t your fault,” I whisper. My hands snake up into her hair and I massage my fingertips into her scalp. “So much happened and we all have a piece in it.”

             
“It was because of me, though. Maybe Park wouldn’t have been drinking if I hadn’t hurt him.”

             
Now I shake my head. “It’s not your fault,” I say firmly. My mouth moves over hers as she opens it to protest again. I let my tongue find hers. My hips are flush with hers and I conform to her body. My hands rake down her sides and I lift her onto the counter. I pull her legs around my waist and take her face in between my palms. She leans in and kisses me this time, biting at my lip. My grip tightens as she works her fingers into my jeans and grasps me.

             
I look around quickly and pick her up, my hands cupping her thighs. I walk us toward the pantry.