Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Yeah, well…
It wasn’t that I was disappointed. I was…confused, and distracted by Walker’s obvious unease. It was like watching a foreign movie without subtitles. Or the words were flashing too fast for me to read. Also, a little advance warning would have been nice. It would have given me a chance to gauge Walker’s mood and probe into a topic he avoided like the plague.
I knew his dad upset him, but I didn’t have any details. And yes, it was why I hadn’t shared Toby’s bombshell yet. It seemed like insensitive news to deliver via text. I’d planned to tell him the day we’d talked on the phone, but the invitation to Toronto was even better. I hadn’t counted on it being so damn idyllic here, though.
This house and these cool, kind people were Walker’s happy place. His joy was genuine and contagious. He might gripe a little, but the dude loved the corny family games, goofy dogs, and endless stream of visiting cousins. Something told me he’d fit right in with the Czerniaks, and see, that was part of the problem. I’d been charmed off my ass and so taken by this carefree side of Walker that I hadn’t dared ruin it. Any revelations about his dad could wait.
But Ketchum Clomsky was here now, and I realized within thirty seconds of meeting him that nothing would have prepared me for this moment.
The Ketchum Clomsky whose poster hung on my childhood bedroom wall had been a beast of a man. Fierce, ferocious, tough, and a touch maniacal. A six-foot-five monster with shoulders the width of the football field and laser-sharp eyes. Ketchum had a reputation for systematically taking out the competition on his way to the goal with steely resolve. He dismantled defensemen like they were toy soldiers and laughed in their faces every time he scored.
Yeah, he’d been a dick, but that had been part of the allure. I’d adopted his victory punch in the air as a kid, thinking, “One day I’m gonna be just like him.”
Now…I really fucking hoped not.
This version of Ketchum was nothing like the hockey star of my youth. He was thin and gaunt, practically swimming in a wool coat that was easily two sizes too big. His salt-and-pepper hair was wild and unkempt, and though he smiled a greeting, his eyes were vacant.
No, vacant wasn’t the right description. Maybe haunted was better.
Either way, Ketchum had the aura of someone wrestling with demons…and losing.
Something was wrong with him. Something was off, and everyone here knew what it was except for me.
Kay said something to the young woman standing next to her brother—a nurse maybe, then greeted him with a hug. His smile was warmer for Kay. But unless I was imagining it, Ketchum didn’t seem to know who Walker was.
“Hi, Dad.” Walker stepped forward with an awkward wave.
Ketchum frowned. He looked lost and more confused than I was.
Fuck, it was…awful. And so freaking uncomfortable.
Trust me, it didn’t get any better. Fifteen minutes of, “How have you been? Did you have a nice holiday?” followed by a series of noncommittal grunts and an occasional question aimed at Kay.
“Did you see the hummingbird feeder?”
Kay grinned. “I have a new one. Would you like to see it?”
“Maybe later,” Ketchum replied, finally twisting to stare at Walker. “Sunny. Your name is Sunny. I like your hair.”
“Thanks.” Walker’s chin bobbed precariously, but he recovered quickly and initiated a conversation about the weather. Supposedly there was a storm in the forecast and blah, blah, blah.
Everyone joined in. Even me.
If Ketchum was curious about the stranger at his sister’s house, he didn’t show it. I got the feeling he was used to being taken off guard now. He had no defenses. Where he’d once been cunning and controlled, he was guileless and unmoored. Like a frayed rope stretched to its limit. Eventually he’d snap and float away or fade to nothing. I supposed we all did, but fuck me…it was unbearably sad.
Eventually, we said our good-byes, piled our bags into the trunk of the rental, and drove a solid mile in silence along a solitary country road.
I wore sunglasses to shield my eyes from snow glare and kept my gaze forward. I wasn’t good with tough emotional situations, but Walker was vibrating in the passenger seat, his fingers scratching at the seam of his winter coat. I had to try.
Say something, Ty. Say anything.
“What happened to him?” Shit. Maybe not that. I winced and tried again. “Obviously, you don’t have to answer. I’m just curious. Ketchum…I wouldn’t have recognized him and—sorry. Never mind. Want to listen to music? I didn’t bother hooking my cell to the audio, but feel free to use yours if you—”
“It’s okay, Ty.” Walker shifted to face me, piercing his bottom lip with his teeth. “Addiction, depression, and brain damage from multiple concussions.”