Page 88 of Chasing Callie

He looks at me, but there’s so much agony scrawled across his face that I can’t bring myself to threaten him into self love. “It was my job,” he says a little louder, more angry. Years of pent-up frustration finally spilling over. “Ever since Mom left, that’s what I’ve been doing but it wasn’t good enough!”

Silence follows his shout, and the twins trade looks, so much passing between them. I almost feel like an intruder at the moment, but I was there when they came to school upset that she left, and I’ll be here while they figure out what to do and how to move on from this mess. We’re in it together.

“Dad never should have asked that of you,” Brax begins.

“You don’t understand. He was a single dad working sixty-hour weeks. I was the oldest. It was my responsibility.”

“That’s fucking bullshit, Knox.” Jax grips his shoulder and shakes him a little. “You were a kid. That was more than you should have had to carry and deep down you know it, you don’t want to be mad at a dead man.”

“Jax, come on,” Brax murmurs.

“No. We’ll argue back and forth if we dance around it, so I’m saying it. Dad was amazing, but he fucked up too. He did the best he could, but it wasn’t enough, and it’s okay to be angry, Knox. You didn’t get to enjoy being a kid and you should have. He never should have put you through parentification.”

Knox looks at Brax who looks at me and I look at Knox before we all look at Jax.

“What the hell did you say?” Knox asks.

“Parentification. It’s when kids are forced to be care takers and—” He cuts off when he notices the way we’re all staring at him. He bristles. “What?”

“And where did you learn about this?” Brax asks.

Jax sighs like we’re all dumb. “Therapy reels are all over social media. Maybe you three should get educated.”

That makes us all laugh, and with those light sounds, the tension bleeds away. The twins may not notice, but Knox glances at them differently, like he’s seeing them see him for the first time, but they’ve known all along that he was always doing everything in his power to take care of them.

“So,” I begin, pulling the focus back to the big problem looming over us. “With everything Knox shared and what Theo said, it’s obvious what his plan is.”

Jax’s jaw is clenched so tight I worry his teeth might crack. “That son of a bitch.”

I don’t have to be a mind reader to know he’s contemplating violence.

Knox leans back. “Do you know for sure that’s what he’s planning?”

“No.” The admission makes me feel small. “But the timing seems too convenient to be coincidence. He doesn’t like to lose and me leaving. . .” I trail off and shrug. “He’s not going to let me walk away.”

“We’ll take care of it,” Jax adds, rage still simmering in his eyes.

Brax and Knox nod in agreement. “Let him try to stalk you now that we know,” Knox says, voice so low it’s practically a growl.

“We’ll go to the town hall on Monday. Check the records, see what’s really going on,” Brax says. “There has to be something we can do.” He glances at Knox, a little flash of frustration zipping across his face, but it’s there and gone in a second.

The twins know Knox was only trying to take care of them.

“I’m worried,” I say, hating how helpless I sound. “He’s always three steps ahead. I don’t know how to fight someone like that.”

“You’re not fighting him alone anymore,” Jax says. “We’ve got your back.”

The dinner I planned is too daunting, so I settle on making toasty sandwiches as we talk through worst-case scenarios and possibilities. Through it all, I can’t help but envy their certainty.

They’re so confident in their ability to protect what matters. I wish I felt even an ounce of that conviction, because right now I have no idea how I’ll deal with the lawsuit now that Theo’s effectively blocked me from getting legal help in this town.

But maybe that’s okay. Maybe I don’t need to have all the answers right now. Maybe having people who’ll stand by me is enough for today.

Chapter Thirty

CALLIE

Working at the Bar is usually a much-needed reprieve, but with my body on high alert, all the noise and customers are almost too much to handle. I pour another round for the table Bree is waiting on. Jax moves behind me, his presence a familiar comfort as we fall into the rhythm we developed working here together. The Bar pulses with Friday night energy—classic rock pumping through the speakers, boots scuffing against worn wooden floors, and the buzz of conversation mixing with clinking bottles. The crack of a pool ball ricochets through the room.