Chase has a switchblade. That's all he used to need. Just that switchblade and his conviction that he could handle anything the world could throw at him. If he could survive his father's tirades and his fist and everything in between, then what was there to be afraid of in the rest of the world. Nothing. It was as simple and easy as that. He had his switchblade, and he knew that life would be okay past that. He never got it in his head to think about more, to question whether it was a good decision or not. Chase never did that. There was no sense in it. What happened happened. He just made the most of it.
And then things changed. The world as he knew it stopped. His father wasn't just this smart man who hit his stupid son for being stupid. He was suddenly something else, something worse than that, though Chase had never considered that to be nearly as bad as he knows now that he should've. That's just one of the things that he learned from Gert.
He learned a lot from Gert. It was hard not to, after all. She mostly talked to him. Well, when she had anything that really needed to be said, things that she felt she couldn't share with other people, that was when she talked to him. She talked to him a lot. And Chase listened whenever he could, although some of it was too smart for him and in those cases he just had to look at her and smile and pretend. He knows she knew. It doesn't bother him. Why would it? It never bothered her. That was what was important. Her.
He needs her. He has his switchblade, and he has this new anger. He only knows what to do with one of them. He doesn't need either.
He just needs her.
And he can't have her. Because once again he proved himself to be his brilliant father's stupid son. He'll never forgive himself for that.