Page 6 of A Little More Forgiveness

“Ah, shit.”

“Exactly.”

“I think I’d rather get back in the vehicle; you put your foot on the gas, Louise, and hurtle us over the edge into the abyss.”

His laughter, softer this time, low and intimate, trickled over me.

“You may be right,” he replied, “but what other choice do we have?” He lifted his head to look up at the sky. “The snow isn’t gonna let up anytime soon, and if we don’t get somewhere safe and secure, we’ll eventually freeze to death out here.

“You’re sure there’s no other way out?”

He shook his head. “One way in, one way out, remember?”

I grunted. “Yeah, I remember.”

“And it was your idea to drive out here in the first place,” he added for no other reason, except spite.

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. Bad Gabriel.”

He shrugged and smiled at me again, and this time I did take notice of his dimples and how the warmth reached his eyes, making them twinkle. Suddenly I felt way too warm out here.

“Right. Come on,” I said gruffly, “let’s get this over with. Let’s turn around and head back to the cabin in the woods.”

His chuckle calmed me as we climbed inside the warmth of his car, and for a moment I had an ally in this disaster because God knows we’d both need to help each other if we were going to survive five minutes in the company of Mitchell fucking Houghton.

Chapter Three

Mitch

The front door slammed shut behind me with a satisfied thud as I tried to block out the last ten minutes of my life. But the guy, Sanchez—his little speech kept repeating in my head.

My own brother had sold me out to the highest bidder.

My own goddamn brother.

A wet nose nudged my palm, so I absently rubbed a hand over Chuck’s head and behind his ears, his contented grunt helping to release some of my pent-up anger.

“Sorry for shouting, boy,” I murmured. Squaring my shoulders and moving to the window I watched my pathetic excuse for a lawyer and the smug asshole Sanchez, make their way over to their Jeep, hop in, and fishtail out of the yard, going way too fast for the amount of snow on the ground.

When they were out of sight, I headed outside to let the absolute silence wrap around me, allowing the peace and quiet to calm me and release the last of the rage in my head.

Being alone was good. Me and the dogs were all I needed.

Pain. Sharp and jagged ripped through my chest, making me lightheaded.

Not all I needed, but all I deserved.

Dropping to my haunches and scooping up the papers I’d ripped in two, from the dirt, I wiped off most of the slush and reread them, my gaze dropping to the copy of my brother’s signature at the bottom of the last page, confirming he had, in fact, signed over half of my life to a stranger. My eyes landed on the ridiculously large sum of money they’d offered Jared, money he’d greedily accepted. I understood his reasoning, as he’d never wanted anything to do with the cabin or the land and had left the first chance he got. The rent we’d paid him for allowing Katie and I to live here, instead of selling and splitting the profits, had been more than generous, but the amount he’d accepted from Skyscraper Construction would change his life forever. Give him the new start he always wanted, so I shouldn’t feel resentful.

But…

He knew there’d be no way I’d leave, no matter how tempted I’d been for the chance to escape. My lawyer had very nearly talked me into vacating my home, too, but I’d become more and more jittery this morning the closer we got to meeting, and as soon as Sanchez had arrived, the reality hit hard of what I was about to give up, preventing me from going through with the sale. All my memories, and more importantly, her blood on my hands tied me here. I refused to do that to us: to me and Katie. Jared knew, too, why I remained here, but he’d sold me out anyway. He promised he’d talk to me first before doing anything irresponsible. He fucking promised!

I surveyed the outbuildings bracketing the yard, unable to see any progress at all in the nearly four years since she’d been gone. The wood still rotted on the sides of the buildings, and the roofs were in desperate need of replacing. The two cabins on the lake I’d started to build, certain they would make us a shit ton of money, were still unfinished. The barns, the stables supporting the horses, my own cabin, left me too much to do and never enough time or money to get the work done. Whatever savings we’d had, plus the two loans I’d taken out, were long gone. The few friends I’d retained since Katie’s death had offered to help, but I refused to take their handouts, instead resorting to cash-only jobs here and there to make ends meet. But they took me away from the cabin and my work here, so I only did them if I really got desperate.

Huffing out some air, the cold making my breath fog in front of my face, I turned, blocking out my failures, and made my way inside, then closed the door quietly behind me. Throwing the scraps of paper on the console beside the entrance, I walked into the kitchen and poured a cup of strong coffee, took a sip, and tried to figure out my next move. Some big city company owned half of my property, half for fuck’s sake! What the hell was I gonna do now?

Did them owning half mean they’d force me to sell? If not, could they still go ahead with whatever they planned on doing anyway? Would they force me to leave against my will? Fuck. Where was my lawyer when I needed him? Oh yeah, halfway to town with his tail between his legs. He should have been my representation, the buffer between me and Sanchez. Fat lot of good he’d turned out to be. He hadn’t even known my brother had sold his share of the property for Chrissake. What use would he be in any negotiations I needed to make going forward? At least I got why Sanchez had been so persistent. My brother had been selling my life out from right underneath my feet the whole time, and now they wanted to finish the job and bury me completely.

---