Series: Fever Falls Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
I was pleased he’d mentioned that. “Mother spent a lot of time and energy on a project that would highlight our architecture. We have so many influences here—Pombaline, Tudor, Gothic, Baroque. A varied and elegant mix to remind us of our diverse background. Parlaisa has always acted as a sanctuary to those who escaped the horrors of more oppressive parts of Europe.” As I spoke, I stopped rowing and sat beside Keegan to enjoy the view.
“Casey was giving us all the info on it. He’s our official historian. Wants to be a professor one day.”
“A professor and a vet.”
“Potential vet. I have plenty of years ahead of me before I earn that.”
“And where does this affinity toward animals come from?”
“I’ve always loved animals, since I was little. My bro rescued this Shar-Pei, Mac, before I started college, and it was cool getting to go with him to vet visits and watch this guy tend to Mac’s injuries. I was actually excited to go to follow-up visits with him, and I don’t know, some things just click. And that definitely clicked for me. It was like a light bulb went off. That’s when I started volunteering at the shelter, and it was nice having a place where I felt I could do some good—help give a voice to some little guys who can’t say much. And come on, everyone loves animals, right?”
“Well, that’s an accurate statement.”
Although, I felt his last comment was an attempt at downplaying the rest, which was pretty remarkable.
“And what is it that Steve wants to go into?” I went on.
“Mechanical engineering. He’s a mechanic right now, and he’s always been the smart one. A genius, really. He plans on transferring to Georgia Tech next year. He’s not the kind of guy I’m too worried about getting in, though I’m worried about Casey’s sanity once that happens.”
“Do you think he has a bit of a crush on Steve?”
“Oh, no. Those guys have been strictly friends forever. I mean, I’ve thought sometimes maybe, but I figure if something was going to happen, it would have already. They just have been so close for so long. I know it’ll be hard on them.”
“It’s nice how much you care about them.”
“It’s nice they are willing to put up with me, is more like it,” he added, but I could tell he was trying to disregard my compliment.
“I wish you had more time here. I’d say just to show you all the beautiful things we have here, but as you can imagine, I’d be lying if I said that was the only reason.”
Keegan turned to me, beaming, but then his expression turned serious. He glanced around. “This is nice. Not being interrupted like we were in the bar. It couldn’t have been easy having it your whole life, especially when it was so hard. With rehab and all. Everyone knowing every painful moment you’ve lived through and having opinions about them, wanting to discuss them even all these years later.”
His words evoked those memories just as much as the interview had. “Yeah, that’s not the easiest… I took a hard turn after Mother passed. I don’t think any of us really realized how much the treatments had taken their toll on the entire family. I wanted to block it all out, and I guess I found some other people who were also wanting to block out their pain. It started with parties. Sex and drugs were sort of the natural consequence. Coke, in particular, was amazing. I was depressed most of the time, but that made me feel like I could function again. Just being able to function felt almost like a miracle. As you can expect, it was all a vicious cycle. More drugs and sex. And it just kept on and on for some time. Funny thing is, I thought they were helping. Making me better because I could actually feel again.”
“I imagine that’s what lures a lot of people,” he said, taking my hand. “What made you get help?”
I didn’t have to think on that. A sweltering pain filled my chest. I couldn’t help but tear up at the memory.
“Carrie Farley,” I replied. “She was twenty-six, and we had been sleeping together for maybe three months. Birds of a feather get high together, and we did. One night, she went over to a man I thought was my friend. They fucked around in exchange for some coke. Stayed the night and then another and another. Wound up overdosing, and I knew that if I didn’t do something, if I didn’t make a decision, I would wind up just as dead one day.”
Keegan gripped on tighter to my hand. For some reason, that made it that much easier to go on.
“It was an interesting conversation to have with a guy who was supposed to be your friend, but who was so high himself, he couldn’t even call the police while she was having seizures. I was glad I had enough restraint to just deck him, not fucking kill him. But you get the kind of friends you deserve, and with where I was at in my life, I wasn’t surprised I’d picked that crew. People who didn’t give a flying fuck about each other outside of how they could get what they needed to feel a couple of moments of relief from the world. It wasn’t a way to live.”