A buzzing sound awakened him. His phone, set on vibrate, rattled around on her desk. He reached across her to grab it, started to roll out of bed, when she tugged on him.

"Kelsi?" He quickly read Nicole's expression, but it wasn't jealousy he saw. She wanted him to stay and deal with his call. She didn't want him hiding from her.

"Dyl, listen, things are totally fucked up here." Kelsi sounded freaked out.

He sat up, body alert and primed for action. "What's going on?"

"Your mom. She texted me. Asked me to come get her. She was in a field. You know where the Sunoco used to be?"

"Is she hurt?"

Nicole sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest.

"No, but she's been kicked out of the apartment. She's got nowhere to go."

"So she wanted money?"

"No, she wants to crash at my parent's place. She's pretty fucked up."

"Drugs?"

"Yeah."

"What kind?"

"I don't know. She's passed out in my car right now. I can't get her into the house by myself."

"What do you want me to do?" He could call Brian. But it was four in the morning back home, and Brian had probably just gone to sleep. He worked as a bouncer at the Pit Stop.

"Well, I want you to be here, for God's sake. I can't do this myself."

"I can't be there, Kels."

"She's your mom."

"I know that. Let me call Brian. He'll come and get her."

"Brian lives at home, Dylan. His parents hate your mom. They're not going to let her into their house. Besides, his grandma moved in last month. There's no room."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you. Can you let her sleep it off in the car?"

"Oh, come on. It's twenty degrees out here. I'm not sitting in my car with the heat on while your mom sleeps it off."

"I'm sorry, Kels. Can you take her to a motel and let her stay there a few nights? I'll pay for it."

"This isn't working, Dylan." Her voice grew shrill. "I know you want to dance around the ballroom with your Disney princess, but you've got shit going on here that you have to take care of. I mean, I'm here for you. I am. And I'm happy to help. But I need you here, too." She paused. "You can't just throw money at us."

Us. Fuck. He didn't want Kelsi to be part of his family, his problem. But what else could he do? He had no one else to help him. He glanced at Nicole. With a calm expression, she had a hand on his back, letting him know she was there for him.

But she wasn't there for him. No one was. No one could help him with his goddamn problem because it wasn't anyone else's responsibility.

And in this moment he perfectly understood the division between Wilmington and Gun Powder. Kelsi might have a personal agenda, but she was right. Five minutes ago, wrapped in Nicole's arms, he'd felt whole and perfectly happy. Safe and clean. And if he had a choice, he would choose her. Of course he would choose this future over his real one.

But Nicole would never fit in Gun Powder. She'd never be part of his family. Picking up his mom in a field littered with broken glass and hubcaps, sitting in a car with her while she slept it off? No fucking way. Even if she told him she wouldn't mind, he wouldn't do that to her. She deserved so much better than that. He would never expose her to the ugliness of his world.

His world was divided cleanly in half. He'd already made the decision not to feel guilty for this half, the one he shared with Nicole, but the only way to handle the other half meant dropping out of school. Enrolling at Boulder next fall.

Nicole leaned against him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his shoulder.

No. He wasn't going to give her up. And he wasn't dropping out of school. He would find a way to make this work. "Take her to a motel. The one by the park. I'll text you my debit card number."

"You can't afford this, Dylan."

"I'll get another job."

"How many jobs are you going to get before you figure out that throwing money at her isn't the answer? You need to be here to take care of her."

"And give up my education? So that, what? I can work in a gas station and make minimum wage the rest of my life?"

"You don't need to be the president of a corporation, Dylan. You can go to community college for two years, transfer to CU, get a job here in town."

"I don't want to do that."

"Okay, great, you don't want to do that. So explain to me how it's going to work? After you've paid for this motel? Then what? What about the next time she's passed out in a field at four in the morning? Am I supposed to come get her? I mean, I will. You know I'm here for you, Dyl. But, come on."

"I know, I know. Look, I'll be home for Christmas break in a couple weeks, and it's a long one. Over a month. I'll deal with it then."

"Fine. But you know as well as I do, play time's coming to an end."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

With her pretty mouth wrapped around his cock, Dylan couldn't think about how many minutes he had left to catch the shuttle. Steam filled the bathroom, hot water hammered his back, and his knees shook. Jesus, mother of God, Nicole sucked him deep, her tongue swirling just under the head.

The feel of her fingers digging into his ass, her mouth sucking him deeper into her mouth, sent him shooting into the stratosphere. He shouted so loud his voice echoed off the walls. He watched his glistening cock slide out of her mouth, loved the sexy look in her eyes, and couldn't bear the fact he was leaving her for five and a half weeks.

Helping Nicole to her feet, he kissed her voraciously. The idea of not seeing her-of possibly never seeing her again-brought out the beast in him. Made him want to kick through the shower door and tear the vanity out of the wall.

"I'm going to miss you." She snuggled against him.

She'd never know how much he appreciated her lack of drama. Sure, she didn't like not being able to see him for the entire winter break, but she didn't throw a fit. She made no demands on his time. She understood-to the extent she ever would-his situation.

"I wish I could drive you." Getting out of the tub shower, she gazed up at him, offering a weak smile.

But she couldn't. She had two more finals and a paper due. He'd taken one of his tests early so he could get home sooner.

Without talking, they dressed. He took her hand, as they headed down the stairs. At the front door, he dropped his duffle, cupped her face, and kissed her senseless. When he pulled away, she drew her lips into her mouth. He could see the strain as she swallowed back emotion. And then he left.

No promises, no tears.

And no goodbyes.

The cold air stiffened his fingers in the unheated warehouse.

"You're going to work yourself to death."

Dylan ignored his uncle, hauling the box he'd just labeled to the loading dock. Setting it on top of the stack beside the door, he quickly strode back to find his uncle still standing there.

"You don't have to work this hard over your winter break," his uncle said. "You know I'd give you money. Your aunt and I would give you anything you need for college."

The qualifier- for college-wasn't lost on him. His family wouldn't give money if his mom could somehow get her hands on it. But that was what Dylan needed. Cash to keep a roof over her head and food in her refrigerator.

Dylan focused on taping the next box shut, then got to work on the address label.

His uncle blew out a frustrated breath. "How is she?"

If he'd cared, he wouldn't have bailed on her the first time she'd relapsed. Second, he reminded himself, remembering her stumble over the summer. But maybe if Uncle Zach hadn't bailed, if he'd given her a little support, he could've helped her find her way back to sobriety.

Could she find her way back to sobriety? In all his life she never had.

Not that it mattered. The only thing that mattered was helping her. And he just couldn't understand how his family could leave her care on his shoulders, but whatever. It was what it was.

A hand clamped on his shoulder but gave no resistance when Dylan pulled away. Dylan looked up to see his uncle's hardened expression.

"Put the tape dispenser down."

Since the man paid him a generous wage, Dylan did as requested, then straightened to his full height.

"When we cut her off, it's not because we don't care. It tears your aunt apart to see your mom living the way she does. But giving her money doesn't help her. You know that."

"I'm not here to talk about my mom."

"No, you're here to earn money for her."

Oh, fuck this shit. Dylan was tired of the elephant in the room. Time to just throw down. "You know, maybe if you and my aunt hadn't taken my mom's inheritance, I wouldn't need to earn money for her."

Shock gripped the man's features. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"If you'd given her her share when she'd asked, she'd have a house to live in, and I wouldn't have to work my entire vacation to make enough money for her rent."

"She got her share of the estate. Everyone did, as stipulated in the will. Are you talking about the ranch? Your mom wanted us to sell it so she could have the money. Her sister and brothers wanted to keep it in the family. So we bought her out of her fifth, even when none of us could afford it. She got everything that was coming to her. Didn't you know all this?" He shook his head, looking off somewhere, clearly unhappy. "Dammit, boy. All these years, you've been buying her sh-"

His uncle cursed under his breath. "Excuse me while I try to find my nice words, as your aunt likes to call them. But I don't have a whole lot of them where your mom's concerned."

Honestly, Dylan didn't know what to think. The idea that his mom blew through the inheritance, all while telling him she couldn't afford the instrument rental fee he needed to play in the school band or the uniforms he needed to participate in school sports...that they couldn't eat that week...Jesus, he wasn't sure he could handle knowing that about her.

But he guessed he needed to know. "You gave her the money?"

"I didn't do it. Your aunt and I have no power. The estate was divided five ways. Your mom got her share."

Dylan stood there, letting it all sink in. He looked down at his boots, letting the truth slowly form in his mind. His mom had run through all that cash to pay for her drugs and alcohol. The ground became a little shaky, and he reached for the wall of boxes. "Maybe it's in a savings account."

"Bullshit." His uncle's voice boomed in the huge warehouse. Other workers stopped what they were doing to look over. "Goddammit. That was not a nice word. Nor was it my inside voice."

Dylan just looked at him like he was crazy.

His uncle shook his head. "Too many years with a damn preschool teacher." Then the familiar look of pity took hold of his rugged features. "I'm sure glad you had the balls to bring it up with me or you never would've known the truth."

"I don't know whether I'm glad I asked or not."

"I can understand that. I just hope that now that you do know, you'll consider coming back to us. We miss you, son. The ranch...it's your home, too. You've still got your own room there, and it's yours to use any time you like."

"If I come without my mom."

"Yes. Without your mom. And I do not feel bad about that decision. None of us does. And I'm pretty sure you're starting to see why. The only thing we feel bad about is that you're stuck taking care of her."

Stuck? This was his mom. "What choice do I have?" And, dammit, he really needed an answer.

"Well, now, son, that's the thing. You do have a choice. All this money you're earning for your mom? I think you know where it goes. You get that, right? That your money enables her to buy the booze and drugs? It's not making her stronger-you don't see her relieved and thankful to have a place to live, do you? It's not giving her the foundation to go out and make a better life for herself. It only fuels her addiction."

"You think this is new to me? It's not. But if I stop taking care of her..." His throat tightened so hard it hurt.

His uncle stood there a moment, and then he clapped a hand on Dylan's shoulder. "I know it scares you to picture her living on the streets, shacking up with that drug dealer she's been hanging around again, but son, even if you bought her a mansion and had it fully staffed, you couldn't stop her from making the same choices she's making now."

He'd heard it all before, but the same stab of fear gutted him every time. "I get that, but I'm not like you. I can't live with myself knowing she's on the street."

"I live with myself just fine. Because when we let her in our lives, she destroys us. Takes us right down with her." His eyes narrowed. "And that is not acceptable." Then, his features softened. "Come on, boy, of course it cuts me up to see how she's living. But it's her choice. I live with myself because I know we tried everything. How many interventions did we have for her? Hell, son, you were there. Crying your eyes out when you were not even ten years old and she was screaming like a lunatic when we tried to get her help. No boy should have to go through that. We pooled our money and got her in rehab, only to have her walk out after three days. I paid for the next one myself-and I did it for you. She didn't last a week. Dylan, come on, you're nearing nineteen. Honestly, you're scaring the hell out of us."

He stilled, cocking his head, hyper aware of the tension on his uncle's features, the harsh breaths he took, the tight set of his shoulders. Yeah, he'd heard this lecture before, but he'd never seen his uncle so worried.

"When you went off to college, we were so damn proud of you. For the first time in I don't know how long, we could breathe. We could sleep straight through the night."

"Then why did you bail on her? If you'd been there, you could've helped her get back to her meetings."

"Come on, boy. Did you hear anything I just said? We've tried. Over and over. It doesn't work. It doesn't stick." His uncle tipped his head back, he scrubbed his face. "We love you. We'd do anything to help you, but you just won't see it. You won't let go of your mom."

"She's my mother. I'm all-"

"Stop right there. You hear how twisted that sounds? She's your mother, all right. So shouldn't she be bending over backwards to take care of you? And if she is all alone it's because no one will let her steal from them anymore. Why are you so willing to let her destroy you? Why is her life more important than yours?"

"This isn't the point. The point is that she has no one else. I can't abandon her. I have to do something." What, though? What can I do?