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Harmless(15)

By:Nicole Edwards


"I need to call my dad," Roan noted, pulling back and wiping his eyes.

"I'll call him, Roan." Cam's voice was strong and steady. He was taking charge and Roan appreciated it. "I think you and the baby should come stay with us tonight."

Roan nodded, a tear dripping off his cheek and onto his hand. Just this morning, he had given Cassie shit because she was being obnoxious and not in a good way. For the past five months, Roan had been living with her, sleeping on her couch, invading her space, attempting to force her to quit the drugs. Ever since she found out she was pregnant. He had tried to be there for her. Tried to help her through it. They'd fought every damn day over the same shit. She didn't want him there; he didn't want to be there. She hated him, he hated her more. It was a vicious cycle and though most of what he'd said wasn't true, she had simply pushed him to his limits.

Rehabs had accepted her only to let her go because she refused treatment, becoming belligerent and disturbing the other patients. She hadn't wanted help.

Not from him. Not from their father. Not from anyone.

And look where that left her.

Dead at twenty-nine. She wouldn't even see her next birthday, only three weeks away.

His father and his stepmother were going to be devastated. And his sister Eva, too.

Or hell, maybe they wouldn't. Not a one of them had lifted a finger to help Cassie. Not for months. At first, his stepmother had tried to help, but Lydia had grown tired of the effort it took to deal with Cassie. And that left Roan. He'd had no choice but to stick his nose where it didn't belong because he hadn't wanted …




 

 

This.

"Roan," Cam said softly. "Let's go pack some of Liam's things."

Cam's firm grip registered on his arm and Roan managed to take a step. Then another. He was having a hard time processing all of the emotions. He was furious with Cassie for refusing help. She had insisted that she could do this on her own. Now that she had Liam, she had something to live for. Or so she'd told him.

He was heartbroken that he hadn't been able to stop her. But worse than that, he was riddled with guilt. But he couldn't deny the relief he felt. He knew he shouldn't because it was selfish, but he had spent so long trying to help her, getting verbally abused-sometimes even physically abused-because of it. Cassie hadn't been herself; the drugs had turned her into someone none of them recognized.

But now she was at peace. She wasn't fighting the addiction any longer.

When Cam's arms came around him again, Roan fought to keep it all in. He tried to break free of Cam's hold, but he couldn't, so he gave in and let his best friend reassure him that they would get through this.





Three

SEG WAS SITTING ON HIS couch, channel-surfing when he heard his phone buzz. He leaned over and grabbed it off the table, wishing like hell it was Roan responding to his text by calling to say yes, he would like to meet for a beer. Only that was wishful thinking and Seg knew that it wouldn't be him. His luck had been all used up on the ice tonight.

He glanced at the screen.

Nope. Not Roan.

Mom.

She always called after a game and he'd been waiting for her.

"Hey, Ma."

"Did you see that game tonight?" she asked excitedly. "It was beautiful! Absolutely beautiful!"

"I saw it," he assured her, chuckling. "I was there."

"I know you were, honey. And it was incredible. Marjorie's jealous, let me tell you. She's so proud of you, she wants a hockey son of her own." His mother giggled. "She came over to watch it with me. I was jumping up and down, yelling like a crazy woman. I even spilled the popcorn. I thought she was going to need oxygen she was so shocked. You'd think she would be used to it by now."

Seg knew his mother. She was extremely animated when it wasn't related to hockey, and when it was …  He imagined Marjorie, his mother's best friend, was beside herself. That's how Debra Seguine worked. She was overly proud of him-which made him pretty damn lucky.

"I don't know if Marj'll be coming around again for more games." She sounded somewhat relieved, which made him laugh. Considering Marjorie had sat through plenty already, he seriously doubted that was the case. 

"I take it that was the plan?"

"Of course not." Her laugh was husky and sweet, and only a little mischievous.

"Ma, you're bad."

"Don't I know it, honey. I got that from your father. Rest his soul. So, next game is on Monday, right?"

"Yes, ma'am. At home again. Then we're on the road."

"I'll be rooting for you! You looked amazing out there, by the way. And don't think I missed that assist. Best play ever."

Her praise always made his heart swell. "Thanks, Ma."