Then He Came Back (Love From Austin Book 2)

by Chris Campillo

How had this awkward exchange turned into serious shit? At least for him. And here, a seventeen-year-old posed the question. Trey stared into his coffee, trying to answer honestly without turning their first meeting into a review of his issues.

  “I’m glad I’m a surgeon. I think it’s my calling. But it would’ve been nice to discover that on my own. When it comes to your life’s vocation, you should be the one making the decisions. Saves a lot of wasted time and resentment.”

  Wes stared at him as if he’d just delivered the Ten Commandments. Finally, he nodded, then turned his attention back to his drink, pushing the straw up and down.

  Don’t shut down on me. “Do you play any sports?”

  “I played soccer the last three years, but not this season. I was in Germany last semester. I have to focus on the college search now.” Again, Trey noticed the lack of enthusiasm.

  “Did you play any sports in high school?” Wes asked.

  Trey’s heart sank. So Sue hadn’t told their son anything about his past, not even something as trivial as sports. “I played soccer. Center back.”

  Wes smiled. “Left back.” The boy leaned in a fraction of an inch, and the tension in Trey’s shoulders eased. Finally, progress.

  “What else did you do?” Wes asked.

  “Debate. That’s where I met Suz . . . your mother.”

  Wes’s eyes immediately turned somber. Trey knew where his son’s thoughts were headed. Sue, their relationship, the pregnancy, his running away. He swallowed the acid rising in his throat.

  Pushing his drink away, Wes sat back in his chair and studied a woman and two kids ordering drinks. Trey couldn’t speak. Fear froze him. If he said the wrong thing, the boy would walk away for good. Serves you right. You did the same to him.

  But Wes wasn’t timid. He turned to Trey and asked in a controlled voice, “Did you leave us because of medical school? Because your parents had made all those plans for your life?” His son’s voice held no emotion, but his eyes, so full of desperation and longing, pierced him. How could this kid even consider giving him the benefit of the doubt?

  It’d be so easy to take that out. To list all the arguments that could possibly justify his decision. It might give him the one chance to build something with Wes. But he wouldn’t take the coward’s way. He’d done that before, and Wes didn’t deserve it now.

  Trey searched the room, searched his heart, looking for the right words, trying to find courage. It wasn’t the courage to admit his fault. It was the courage to watch his son walk away. Damn, it was inevitable. He’d hoped he’d have more time, but the truth was, he didn’t deserve it.

  “No.”

  He studied Wes’s reaction. The boy sat up straighter, distancing them even more.

  “I wasn’t ready to be a husband or a father. I was too young . . . too selfish.”

  Wes snapped his eyes to the window. His face turned red, and he took several shallow breaths. Trey was overcome with the need to grab his son’s shoulder, to give him some kind of comfort. But it wouldn’t be welcomed. It’d only send Wes out the door that much sooner. Hell, it didn’t matter. As soon as the boy composed himself, he’d walk away for good. But he couldn’t let him go until he’d said one last thing.

  “I loved your mom. I never wanted to hurt her or you.”

  Wes jerked his head toward Trey. His eyes were red, but with fury. “But you loved your freedom more.”

  Trey swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn’t answer. Couldn’t voice the horrible truth.

  The sound of Wes’s chair dragging across the floor echoed throughout the room. The look of disgust in the boy’s eyes tore him up. Wes stood up, walked away, but then came back to the table. He started to say something, but then shook his head and left for good.

  Grief locked Trey in place until he saw Wes get in the car. Desperation sent him running outside. He motioned for Wes to stop, but his son continued backing up.

  But then Wes pulled the car back into the parking spot. Trey raced to the driver’s side and let out a deep breath when Wes rolled down the window. He didn’t look at Trey, just stared straight ahead.

  Trey didn’t know what to say, but he needed another chance. He wouldn’t say good-bye without trying. “Wes, I want . . . can we get together again? Talk some more?”

  Wes finally looked at him, his eyes glassy. “I think we’ve talked enough.” He started to roll up his window, but Trey put his hands on the glass, and Wes stopped.

  “Call me if you want.” Trey cleared the lump in his throat. “If you need anything.”

  His son choked out a laugh and shook his head. “Right.” With that, he pulled out and sped away.

  Trey watched until he could no longer see the car. He wanted to call him, tell him to pull over—the boy was too upset to drive—but no way in hell would Wes talk to him.

  He pulled out his phone and called Sue. She’d bring down hell, but Wes’s safety was more important. Thanks to caller ID, she didn’t miss a beat.

  “Where the hell are you?

  Chapter 6

  “What?” Sue’s angry question threw Trey. “I’m at Starbucks.”

  He heard her mumble a curse. “You’re done meeting already? Did something happen?” Concern now joined her fury.

  Fuck. His throat was tight with worry and grief, but he pushed the words out. “Wes left. He’s upset. He shouldn’t be driv—”

  “I knew this would happen!” She ended the call before he could respond.

  Misery wiped him out. On dead legs, he made it to his car. That was as far as he got. Exhaustion held him captive in his seat. His phone’s vibration zapped a current of energy into him. Grabbing for it, he prayed it was Wes. Another chance with Wes. No such luck.

  “What did you say to him?” Panic now filled Sue’s voice.

  He threw his head back against the seat, staring at the ceiling. Where the hell did he start?

  “Tell me, dammit! My son can barely get a word out he’s so upset. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

  He rubbed his hand down his face, but it didn’t wipe away the guilt festering in his gut. “Where is he? He shouldn’t be driving.”

  “No shit. He’s headed to my aunt’s, thank God. I want to know exactly what happened. I’m heading home now. Meet me there in fifteen minutes. I know you know the address.”

  He overheard her talking to someone. She’d probably forgotten to end the call. Just as he was about to, she barked, “If you see Wes’s car outside, keep driving. I don’t want you near him.”

  A double tone was his good-bye. Didn’t matter. It’d take him the fifteen minutes to get the lump out of his throat so he could talk.

  * * *

  Sue stared out the living room window. She didn’t remember driving home. After getting off the phone with Trey, she’d called her aunt who confirmed Wes had arrived. Thank God, he was safe. Mimi’s had always been his go-to place when he needed to get away. He’d refused to talk to Sue, which worried the hell out of her, but supposedly, he didn’t want to talk to anyone. She’d give him that until she finished with Trey. Then, she was headed straight to her boy to try and repair the damage.

  Lily frantically rubbed against Sue’s legs, no doubt sensing that shit had hit the fan. She picked up the cat, who didn’t normally tolerate such offensive tactics, and stroked her soft chin to try and comfort them both.

  She should’ve never called Trey. What the hell had she been thinking? She’d said no to Wes many times before. Yes, he would’ve fought her on it, but she could’ve fought back. It was one thing for her to face the hurricane the man whipped in her heart. She was an adult. She’d survived much worse.

  But Wes. Oh, baby. When she’d called him, he’d hesitated to speak, and then he’d forced out a whisper telling her he couldn’t talk and was headed to Mimi’s. She’d never heard him so broken. She should’ve gone with her gut. The “your-dad-is-dead” story would’ve prevented this whole nightmare.

  Lily’s wild cry caught her
attention. She had the poor kitty’s head pushed too far back. “Sorry, girl,” she whispered, and set the cat down.

  An SUV pulled into the driveway, and her blood pressure skyrocketed. God, she wanted to smack Trey. Kick his ass back to Iraq. But first, she needed to know exactly what damage he’d inflicted.

  She opened the door and stepped aside. She couldn’t muster a greeting, but Lily handled that. The tiny cat puffed up to twice her size and hissed at him before she tore off up the stairs.

  Sue led him into the living room but didn’t sit down. He was smart enough to remain on his feet, despite looking exhausted. Too bad, she had no concern to spare at this point. “I want to know exactly what you said to my son.”

  Trey heaved out a sigh and rested his hands on his hips. “I told him the truth.”

  Her stomach dropped. “You told him about—”

  “No. I didn’t mention anything about that. I told you I wouldn’t.”

  A giant weight lifted off her chest. One she hadn’t realized had been crushing her since she’d talked to Wes. She blew out a deep breath, then gathered herself. “So what truth did you tell him?”

  Her words hit a nerve. His face dropped even further. “I told him why I hadn’t been in his life.” He rubbed his mouth before finally looking at her. “I’m flying out tomorrow. Tell Wes to call me if he has any more questions.” He headed to the door. Did he seriously think this was over? That he could wreak nuclear damage and just walk away, once again?

  “Stop right there!” Having some sense, the man obeyed. “What exactly did you say that knocked the wind out of my boy?”

  Crossing the floor in a flash, he stood within inches of her face. His eyes were burning with anger, but she knew it wasn’t directed at her. No, it was self-loathing. “He asked why I left. I told him the truth. I told him I wasn’t ready for a wife and kid. I told him I was too selfish.”

  It was the confession she’d always wanted to hear. His acknowledgement of the wrong he’d done, purely out of his own self-interest. But it wasn’t as satisfying as she’d imagined all these years. The agony on his face took away from her victory. She saw the vulnerable kid she’d loved all those years ago. She lifted her hand to comfort him but stopped herself. She couldn’t afford to open that gate, especially now that Wes’s mental welfare was at stake.

  She pushed aside her emotions and went into recovery mode. “You are not to contact Wes again.” She could see the protest in his eyes, so she delivered the blow that would shut him down. “He won’t want to see you.”

  He stumbled back, assaulted by her words. God, how could something that had once been so precious end in such misery? He finally nodded. “I’m sure you’re right.” He turned to leave, but then stopped. There was something in his eyes that actually sent a spike of pity through her. “Does he know anything about me? Besides the fact I deserted you?”

  Dammit. Don’t you dare cave. “It’s a moot point now, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe.” Weariness clouded his face. “But he had to have asked about me at some point. What did you tell him?”

  Son of a bitch, why wouldn’t he just leave it alone? Fine. She’d answer his damn question. “Wes didn’t ask about you until he started going to parties and events where fathers were hanging around. He wanted to know if he had one. I told him yes, but you had left because you knew you couldn’t be a good dad and you didn’t want to hurt him.”

  He looked at the ground and took a deep breath. His shoulders drooped. He finally lifted his head. His eyes were red. In a barely audible voice, he said, “He never got to do the father-son camps.”

  “He did, but with his Uncle Luke.” His face filled with confusion. She had no siblings. “Luke is my cousin. He’s been there for Wes from the beginning. Fortunately, he’s older than me, so he fit in with the other parents better than I could.”

  “You didn’t fit in?”

  She let out a bitter laugh. “All the other moms were at least eight years older than me. I was the slut who got knocked up in high school. Not high on the list for PTA President.”

  He winced and looked away, running his hand by his nose. When he turned back, he was a beaten copy of the man that had entered her home just five minutes earlier. He clenched his jaw, then shook his head. “I’m . . . God, Sue, I’m so sorry.”

  She sucked in a deep breath, his broken voice twisting a knot in her heart. What the fuck did she have to do to make this anguish end? She straightened her shoulders and resolve, but he held up his palms as if to stop the attack she was about to release. He gazed at her for the longest time, then turned and left.

  It was done. He was gone, and she was still standing. She would get Wes through the trauma, and life would get back to normal. She should feel relieved. So why the hell was she sobbing?

  * * *

  On the way back to the hotel, Trey stopped and bought a bottle of bourbon. Not even the good stuff. It wouldn’t matter after the first three shots. He wasn’t looking for smooth. He was going for blotto.

  You left because you couldn’t be a good dad. I was the slut who got knocked up in high school.

  He pulled into the parking lot, stopped, and braced his head against the steering wheel. He couldn’t catch his breath. He knew it wasn’t a heart attack. No, this was self-hatred. He’d felt it before, but never so strong.

  Today, he’d faced the scene of the crime. Wes’s face, full of disappointment and disgust. Sue, the hell she’d faced as a single teen mom. The hard woman that had replaced the loving, generous girl she’d once been. He sucked in a big breath, but it didn’t help the constriction in his chest.

  He grabbed the bottle, still in the brown bag, broke the seal, and took a slug. It burned going down, a welcomed diversion . . . but only temporary.

  Getting out of the car was a physical ordeal. He focused on one step at a time, aiming for his ultimate destination of bed and oblivion. He passed a young family unloading their van and took another drink. The wife gave him a shaky smile, no doubt nervous about a man who drank in the parking lot at three thirty in the afternoon. Sorry, lady. We don’t all live the fucking dream.

  As soon as he made it into the room, he flopped on the bed, covering his face with one arm and clinging to the bottle with his other hand. The booze was starting to kick in and breathing was a little easier. Finally, jet lag, bourbon, and defeat conquered his guilt, and he escaped into sleep.

  * * *

  The vibration of his phone woke him. Trey jerked up, surrounded in darkness, the only light coming from the digital clock showing nine fifteen. Hotel. Austin. Wes. Shit. The vibration brought him back. Grabbing the phone and rubbing his eyes, he checked the display. “BRINKLEY, WES.”

  Trey shot off the bed. “Wes?!”

  No response, but background noise assured him the boy hadn’t hung up. “Wes, are you there?”

  “Did you ever regret it?”

  Chapter 7

  “Did you ever regret leaving us?” The boy’s voice was different, full of anger. Definitely not the controlled kid he’d met today. Trey sank back on the bed, resting one arm on his thigh. How much more damage would he do?

  He heard a horn blare through the line. “Where are you?”

  “That’s all you got?” Another horn honked. “I guess that’s my ansser.” Trey shot up. God, was he drunk? And driving?

  “Have you been drinking?”

  “A lil’ late for you to care . . . ansser, meh.”

  Shit, he was lit. “Wes, I’ll answer all your questions but not while you’re driving. Pull over, I’ll meet you.”

  The following silence stopped his heart. He checked his phone, the call was still going. After an agonizing minute with more blasting horns, Wes spoke.

  “Mmm-kay, I’m parked. Now answer.”

  He wasn’t about to leave his son alone, drunk behind the wheel, whether driving or not. “Let me meet you.”

  “No! Just answer.”

  He yanked on his hair, desperate to get
to the boy before he hurt himself or others. “It’s complicated. Where are—”

  “Yes or no! Just answer the fuckin’ queshon!”

  “Yes, I regret leaving you! I’ve regretted it for years. Even when I walked out on you and your mom at the hospital, I hated hurting her.” He stared into his dark room, wishing he could see his son’s face, to know what he was thinking.

  “So, you feel guilty. Thassit?”

  “No! That’s not it.” Fuck! He paced the room, wanting to grab his son out of the car and make him listen. “I regret not being a part of your life. Not helping your mother . . . Not being there for you.”

  “So why didn’t you? Why didn’t you look ussup?”

  “I did, but—” Damn. He couldn’t tell him how he’d tried to see him. How he’d wanted to be in his life. He’d promised Sue. Besides, it was too late now. It’d only hurt his son’s relationship with his mother. The kid didn’t need that, and Sue didn’t deserve it.

  “But what?” Wes’s voice was rough, but there was hurt mixed in.

  “It was too late. I didn’t want to confuse you or screw with your world. I didn’t deserve a relationship with you.” Everything Sue had told him all those years ago. Everything he’d believed.

  “You should’ve let me decide!” Wes’s voice cracked, doing the same to Trey’s chest.

  He should’ve pushed aside his guilt and fought for his son. But he had a chance now, and he’d fight for Wes until he drew his last breath. “Let’s meet. We can talk more.”

  “Why?” The boy sounded belligerent, but there was a trace of hope in his voice.

  “I’ll answer all your questions.” He held his breath. This would make or break his chance to get to Wes. “I’ll grab some drive-through and meet you.” Still no answer. “Tell me where you’re at, and I’ll head there now.”

  He heard Wes take a deep breath. “I’m at the groshy store . . . The HEB.”

  Thank God. Trey grabbed his keys and headed out. “Where is it?”

  “Parmer . . . McNeil. Parmer and McNeil.”