Page 91 of A Little More Forgiveness

“You have twenty-four hours, or you’ll be hearing from the authorities.” I watched him standing by the desk, clutching at the edge to keep himself upright, the utter disbelief at losing etched on his face as the reality I wasn't fucking around, and would no longer kowtow to his demands, became abundantly clear. “Oh, and if you haven’t realized already, I quit.”

Not interested in his response, I unceremoniously booted Malcolm out of the office, the satisfying sound of the door closing behind him the best thing I’d heard all day. I stood in front of the picture window and watched him stalk across the street, get in his car, and drive off. The tension eased from my body the further away he went, until he disappeared out of the square. Once he’d gone, I exited the building and locked the door. Taking a deep cleansing breath to rid my lungs of Malcolm’s stench, I headed over to my Jeep. Thankfully, Gabe had left it unlocked, so I climbed in, located the keys in the cup holder, and gunned the engine. Still too wired to head straight home, I pointed my car at the gym, needing an hour or so at the punching bag to work out my aggression and calm down before I contacted Gabe.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Mitch

I pulled up in the yard after dropping Leo off at his office, parked, and hopped out of my truck. I made my way over to the empty cabin, the snow crunching loudly underfoot. Chuck and Norris greeted me with welcome barks as I opened the door, making me glad at least these two were pleased to see me. They let me pass, but then padded outside to the porch, waiting expectantly for the two people who were never coming back.

The image of a forlorn-looking Leo standing on the sidewalk filled my head, his face stricken as he watched me drive away.

Nope. Not going there. I forcibly pushed the image aside and ordered the dogs to follow me in. Closing the door, I crouched down to pet them, running my hands over their furry heads, sad to realize they were the only two beings I was able to rely on.

Getting to my feet, I walked into the kitchen, the lights on and Gabe’s mug sitting on the kitchen table next to mine, our coffees unfinished because of the argument. Collapsing into the same seat as earlier, the emptiness closed in all around me, and I hated it, especially after having gotten used to sensing Gabe and Leo somewhere in the house. I’d grown used to knowing exactly where they were, which room they were in, their presence filling my personal space.

Sitting here alone unsettled me as my home had never sounded so quiet or so still. It must have in the past, obviously, but straining to hear the movements of the two men and getting nothing but an eerie silence sent goose bumps prickling along my skin and a shiver down my spine.

Well, good, I told myself. Finally, I’d be able to attain the peace and tranquility I yearned for. I didn’t need them anyway and wouldn’t miss having to share my food with an ever-hungry Gabe, moaning about where his next morsel was coming from. I wouldn’t have to feel the comforting weight of Leo’s head in my lap as he took up all the space on the sofa, leaving me squished into the corner. And I definitely wouldn’t end up feeling like a furnace as the two of them wrapped their bodies tightly around me every night in bed.

As if they couldn’t get close enough.

As if they wanted to be there.

As if they loved me…

No, no, and fucking no.

I didn’t need either of them and was damn sure I didn’t want them around.

I replayed the argument I’d had with Gabe again and again, making sure to note every dig, every harsh word he’d slung my way. Turning the words around in my head to prove he never truly wanted me in the first place, prove he didn’t know me at all.

No. I didn’t give a fuck about them.

“I’ve got you, right guys?” The dogs cocked their heads at me. “We don’t need Leo and Gabe, do we?” Some ear twitching. “As long as you’re here, I’ll have all I need.” Their noses snuffled into my hand, agreeing with me.

Gabe and Leo were gone. I had my home. I had my horses and the barns and the lake cabins to renovate. I didn’t need anyone else, didn’t have time for anyone else.

Determined to revert to my old routine, I decided the best way to start was to go down to the lake and work on the cabins. The sooner they were renovated, the sooner I’d begin renting them out to paying guests and get the property to finally earn its keep.

The crisp late morning air filled my lungs, lifting my mood as I walked along the path down toward the lake. The dogs ranged out in front of me, sniffing the ground and the air as they scouted ahead. The sky, such a bright clear blue, almost blinded me. The blanket of brilliant white snow glittered in the sun, while the forest around me smelled of pine and nature.

The whole scene was idyllic, absolutely idyllic, and should have been all I wanted—as it had been previously. I used to love standing quietly marveling at the landscape, not the slightest bit interested in sharing the view with anyone.

Yet, now, something was missing. Two somethings to be precise.

Gabe’s constant chatter as we walked, his weird inability to keep quiet and need to continue a running commentary on absolutely everything he saw had been irritating at the start but had grown into a welcome distraction, stopping me from drowning too deeply in my dark reflections. I’d enjoyed hearing his oohs and aahs whenever he spotted some wild animal scuttling along the trail, or a deer grazing in the forest. Or his nonstop comments on the beautiful scenery, the trees, the mountains, the lake, and how wonderful it would be to share this with others, grinning at my instant bristling on the topic.

As I checked out my land, I reluctantly and finally had to agree with his point, and again wondered if I should keep all this stunning wilderness to myself. Was I being selfish to prevent others enjoying the spectacular views, to not allow them to hike, or cycle, or ride horses on the trails or to swim in the lake?

But what would happen to me if I sold my remaining stake to Gabe’s company? Was it fair I got to lose all this? Unable to walk out of my own home and be caught up in the amazing and serene landscape? Should I have to give up the only life I’d known for as long as I could remember to let some people traipse through the forest for a week to convince themselves they were somehow attuning themselves with nature?

A vision of Leo popped into my head when he’d first set eyes on the lake. He’d had a huge smile on his face, and his eyes had bugged out of his head when he learned the land he’d currently been standing on, the land stretching out to the far mountains, belonged to me.

“Holy shit, Mitch,” he’d exclaimed. “All of it? You own all of it?” And he’d laughed like a giddy kid, the rich sound filling the air. He’d been so happy for me, and I’d been certain then I was falling for him. He’d made me feel so proud to share this part of my life with him, recognizing he loved the landscape almost as much as I did.

With them both gone, the silence became oppressive when I stepped into the half-finished lake cabin. I’d been here alone quite a bit when they were both around, but this seemed different somehow. The light breeze ruffling my hair on the way down had calmed completely in the gloom permeating the place, with thick and suffocating air replacing the fresh pine scent of outside.

Determined to shirk off my rapidly darkening mood, I concentrated on the remaining tasks. The internal framework was now complete, but I still had half a ton of sheetrock waiting to be attached to the structure to form the interior walls. Rolling my shoulders, I got to work, trying to ignore the memory of Gabe helping me out, and how I’d been impressed by his skill.

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