Fall Guy (A Youngblood Book) by Reinhardt, Liz (knowledgeable books to read TXT) 📕

to say exactly the thing that makes me feel better?" She rolls her window down and lets the cool wind whip through the cabin as we start up. "Are you sure you can drive this thing?"

"Are you insulting my driving skills? I’m practically a professional driver." I make sure I double check my blind spots after bragging to her. I'd been driving a sleek little car for so long, my ability to maneuver something this big is rusty, and I need to give it my full attention.

By the time we're an hour or two and a thousand radio station changes in, Evan starts to poke at exactly the thing that's making me have a minor panic attack every fifteen minutes or so.

"You look nervous." She passes me a piece of gum, but I shake my head and hold the steering wheel tight, eyes fixed on a road I've never traveled down before.

"I've never really done this kind of stuff. I might suck," I admit out loud. As soon as I say the words to her, a little bit of the edge wears off.

She turns in her seat and takes off her sunglasses. "You will be amazing. You'll be the top apprentice at the school. No one works harder than you do, Winch."

A long minute ticks by before I get up the guts to add, "I've never lived away from my family."

She unbuckles her seatbelt and slides across the bench seat, buckling the center lap belt over her curvy hips before she leans her head on my shoulder. "It's scary."

She doesn't go on or give me some speech about how much better off I'll be without them or why it's good that I'm finally doing something on my own. She gets that I just want to feel scared and sad and nervous as fucking hell for a minute.

Because that's how I feel, and I can only admit it to her. I’m not used to feeling any of this, not about my own choices and future, anyway.

"I don't know what my father will do," I tell her. "He's relied on me to run so much of the business. I do so many things around there. I'm afraid Colt will get pulled in. Or he'll ask Remy, and it will all get screwed up." I tighten my hands around the steering wheel. She rubs my arm in a, slow, comforting path from my elbow to my wrist, over and over.

"And I'm afraid for Andre, you know?" I add, even though I know I’m just being an irrational ass. Evan nods and I keep talking, filling the silence with all my usually-bottled-up confessions. "Why the hell didn't he take the damn money? He'd be in art school now, not suited up for boot camp. He's tough and all, but I don't know if he's cut out for all of that."

"I hear you." She wraps an arm around my waist and squeezes.

"And I'm scared for Benelli. Ithaca basically told us all how she had some guy, someone she loved that she gave up on. What if he's the one, you know? I can’t imagine giving up on the one. I'd be lost without you."

Evan rubs her face on my arm and kisses my bicep, sighing deeply.

"Am I crazy for worrying about all this?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "You worry because you care about them. You care because you're an amazing person. But I think you should have a little faith in them. You guys are strong people, you know? And you all have to fight your own battles. No one could have done this for you, Winch. You had to decide to fight for us and your future, even though it was hard. Your brothers and sisters will all have to make their own decisions, too. And live with them." She nestles down next to me. "And I'll be around. I can always stop by and help if anyone needs it. I'll keep an eye on them."

Her saying that makes my heart thump kick-drum loud in my chest. Even after all the hell my family put her through, Evan still offered to help them. For me. I love her for that. I love her for a million reasons, but I especially love that.

"I love you, you know that?" I turn and kiss the top of her head.

She moves closer to me. "You better," she says around a long yawn. "I love you, too."

She's asleep before I can communicate any more worries, so I just let them all run through my brain, sharp and real, sad and bittersweet. And, even though it hurts to do it, I'm glad. I'm glad I can feel it all and let it go, let it move on and not control my life.

I glance down at the phone balanced on my thigh. It doesn't ring anymore. I had the number changed and, for a while, I just didn't give it to anyone. By the time I leaked it out, the people who'd tried to call while I was unavailable found other sources, and my family had already been informed that I wasn't available to respond to their every beck and call anymore.

The end of that life isn't easy to accept. It had been mine for so long, it had become comfortable to me. I understood who I was and how I belonged, even if I didn't like it.

Now?

There's so much risk, so much to lose. I'm not the one who’s going to fix everything, I won’t be the hero who comes by and sweeps up everyone else's messes. My life as a fall guy is getting put further behind me every single day, and it's time I live on my own terms, make and clean up my own messes, have my own adventures.

It feels freeing and, at the same time, a little fucking scary to live without any more excuses. To live freely. To live my own life, my own way.

Evan lifts her drowsy head when we're ten minutes away