Page 10 of Talk About… History

Finding my clothes in all these boxes was a mess. I ripped open the first three before I found a pair of dark jeans and a cute lacy, black top. My brothers would hate it but it was something I felt sexy and powerful in, which I needed right about now.

Even if I was happy that all the lies were out in the open, there was a small part of me that was truly wounded. They had pheromone spray that meant I may have reacted like we were scent matched when we weren’t. We had to be compatible to some degree or the spray would have had the opposite effect, but in the end I was still scent catfished.

And I bought it, letting them tear pieces of me away until I wasn’t sure what was left.

Maybe being home could help me find that spark again, give me a purpose and time to heal.

It was so strange. Even if I was hurt and sad, the thought of my exes makes my skin crawl now. I wanted nothing to do with them and I felt no attachment there whatsoever.

Seeing them fuck Wren took care of that.

After sliding on my black boots I tucked my wallet and keys into my pockets. It wasn’t until I was halfway down the stairs I realized I sold my car years ago, the guys convincing me we’d car shop again and we had enough vehicles to go around.

That meant my only option was Mama’s beat-up pickup truck.

“Hey, Mama—” I started but she cut me off, not even looking up from her page.

“Keys are by the door, drive safe,” she said, shooing me away. I stared at her for a moment more, taking in the light wrinkles on her face and the grays sneaking into her dark hair. She had it half up, some of it tumbling free.

She’d always been pretty, but right then she looked lost. I swallowed down the pain that I always kept neatly tucked away. She lost true mates, ones she had kids and a life with, and had never looked at another man again.

No wonder my brothers never left. She’d be left all alone on all this land. Even I could see how bad that would be.

“Stop worrying about me and go,” she huffed, giving me a look over her reading glasses again. She’d mastered the ‘mom’ looks long ago and this one had me rolling my eyes.

“Fine, fine, I’m going,” I grumbled before heading for the back door, snatching the key ring from the hook.

The truck looked the same as it did when I left the first time, coated in a faded blue paint with spots of rust poking through.

Soft, worn leather covered the seats and dashboard, the large steering wheel felt strange in my hand.

I tried not to overthink how strange this night was going to be as I navigated through town.

Even after the sun set, Rockwood Valley was beautiful. The dark mountains made the lights in town shine brighter. Vintage style street lamps line the sidewalks through Main Street and twinkle lights surround the windows of the businesses.

Whitaker Family Brewery used to shine the brightest but I can see what the years have done to it. The brick is coated in grime, the windows are streaked from the recent rain and the sign had a few bulbs that went out who knows how long ago.

I grimace as I take in my dads’ legacy. It definitely needs my help, and I had a feeling my brothers were struggling with it all far more than I thought possible.

Music filtered out as someone pushed their way out of the door. The scent of booze and filtered, lightly scented air hit me. They’d clearly upgraded the filtering system in here or it would have been unbearable.

“I need to see some ID,” a gruff voice demanded. I raised an eyebrow and glanced over at the bouncer. I guess they checked IDs at the door these days. I couldn’t blame them but it was a stark reminder of just how long I’d been gone.

“Sure,” I said, digging out my wallet and flashing my license at him. His eyes widened at the name and I let out a small laugh. “Yes, I’m their sister.”

“Welcome back, Avery,” he offered, much nicer now. “Sorry about the greeting. We’ve had a lot of underagers trying to get in lately. This town doesn’t have enough for them to do, I guess.”

“Understandable,” I said before giving him a quick wave and pushing my way through the growing crowd. Apparently, everyone in town hit the bar scene this time of night.

There was one barstool open and I hurried for it, sliding in just before someone stumbled over to take it.

“You caught us,” Nash said as he came over. I noticed he didn’t slide a coaster over or take my order. Maybe my brothers forgot that I’m twenty-five now and well old enough to drink.

“I did. You should have woken me up so I could help out,” I shouted over the music.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Mav wouldn’t have allowed it. Cam, Maverick, and I have this under control.”

I winced. “Do you?”

---