Hot-Bites, Volume Two by Jenika Snow

Chapter Thirteen

Cassie

We pull to a stop in front of the county jail, my heart racing as I stare at a place I’ve seen far too many times. Michael stays quiet, the interior of the truck filling with this thickness that starts to feel suffocating.

It’s long moments before I turn my attention and look at Michael. He has his hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, his jaw set tight, the muscle ticking under the scruff-covered skin.

I wonder what he’s thinking about. I can tell by the way he spoke about my brother, his tone, the way his body became tense, that he isn’t a fan. Hell, I can’t blame him. Brandon has really let his life go to shit, I know that, but I refuse to accept it.

Being back in Boise has my stomach tightening with memories of bailing Brandon out more times than not. That’s what I think about when I come back here. But the thought of leaving him high and dry, not trying, not working to get him better, is this heavy guilt that weighs on me.

But I have to start thinking about me.

“I’ll be back,” I say, before getting out of the truck and shutting the door. I don’t wait to see if he’ll say anything, but I feel this unhappiness coming from him. I know he is probably biting his tongue in this moment.

I head inside the jail and don’t say anything as I sign in. I know the drill, know what to do when I come here, sad as it is.

I take a seat on one of the hard plastic and aged chairs. I look out the window at Michael’s truck, can see him in the driver seat staring at the jail. What is he thinking? Does he think I am stupid, foolish for helping Brandon out once more?

Although I barely know Michael, I feel this deep connection, this bond, with him. I feel like he knows me better than anyone else ever has, even in the short time we’ve been in each other’s presence.

I don’t know how long I sit there, but it feels like an eternity. And then I hear the doors open, stand, and look to the side to see Brandon stepping out. He’s wearing a white sweatshirt with matching sweatpants, his slip-on shoes the same color, scuffed up with dirt marks on top.

He holds a paper bag and smiles at me, but he looks sad, tired. The bags under his eyes attest to that. I have no doubt he has been sleeping like shit while in here. Good. He needs a wakeup call, and hopefully he thought about all the crap he put himself through, as well as me.

“Cassie,” he says softly, and I give him a hug, the scent of something unusual clinging to him. But I am used to that aroma, the one that tells me he’s been locked up.

“Come on,” I say and take the paper bag from him. I haven’t told him that I already have everything set up at the rehab place, that he will be checked in for ninety days. He will probably give me a fight, I know that, but I am also going to give him an ultimatum.

It is intervention time, even if it is just the two of us. I am done being his get-out-of-jail-free ticket. I am done with him knowing he can do whatever the hell he wants to because I’ll be there to bail him out. No more.

If he can’t help himself, then neither can I. If he can’t see that he is ruining his life and dragging me right down along with him, then he needs to be on his own and suffer the consequences. I should’ve done this a long time ago. Hell, maybe Michael’s words, the knowing look he gives me that Brandon uses me to get what he wants, is finally sinking in.

Either way, I am done being used.

We head outside and toward Michael’s truck. I can see that he is already out and leaning against the hood, his arms crossed and this intense look on his face as he looks at Brandon. I stop a few feet from Michael and turn to look at my brother. He has this suspicious expression on his face, but is smart enough right now to keep his mouth shut.

“Brandon, this is Michael. He owns a mechanic shop and helped me out when my car broke down. If not for him, you’d still be in jail because I wouldn’t have been able to get here.” I feel Michael’s anger as if it were my own.

“Thanks,” Brandon says. “I owe you one.”

I grimace at my brother’s response.

I glance at the man I am falling for, the one I’ve given my heart to before I even realized it. His eyes are narrowed as he stares at my brother. He pushes away from the truck and takes a step toward me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me in close. He kisses my temple and I feel my eyes widen at the sudden show of affection.

I know what this is. This is Michael showing ownership in front of my brother. This is him letting Brandon know without saying a damn thing that he is in my corner. He pulls back and I look up at Michael, my eyes still feeling wide as saucers, but a small smile playing on my lips.

I don’t say anything and instead turn toward Brandon and exhale slowly. “I have you set up at Greenhaven Wellness and Rehab Center just outside of Boise. You’ll be there for ninety days, Brandon.” I hold up my hand when he opens his mouth, probably to argue the point. I shake my head slowly, knowing my face is void of emotion. I am tired, exhausted over all of this. I want to have a life, and I can’t do that if I keep bailing out Brandon.

“Cassie,” he says softly.

“This is your one and only chance, Brandon.” I let my hand fall back down to my side and feel my shoulders slump forward slightly. “This is your last chance with me. You go to rehab, get yourself clean, and get your shit together. I will not be bailing you out anymore. I will not be here when you get in trouble. If you can’t better your life, I can’t do that for you. I have to start thinking about myself, and I haven’t done that for a long time.”

My heart is racing as I stare at my brother, seeing the sorrow and despair written across his face. I know he is sorry for all the shit he puts me through, but his illness makes him repeat his actions and mistakes constantly. It is a vicious cycle and I am getting wrapped up in it, dragged down to the very pits of hell as well.

I can’t do that anymore, not if I want to survive. Not if I want to live.

I look over at Michael and feel my body softening. I can’t do any of that if I want to have a future with Michael, and as I stare at him, feel his strength, know he is there for me, it is painfully clear that I really do want a future with him.

Crazy or not, I’ve already fallen for my mechanic.