Page 81 of Challenged by the Single Dad

He needed to drown out the voices in his head. The cacophony of anger, uncertainty, and guilt, all had something to say. They all had something to berate, and blame, and ridicule him about.

Climbing out of his truck, he zipped up his hoodie and stalked down to the path which would lead him up to the highest point, a bare rockface with nothing but moss, lichen, and groundcover. The trees—most of them oaks and madronas—skirted the bottom, but the “peak” was bald.

Everything was wet and slippery from the endless rain and drizzle today, so he was careful where he put his feet. Once he reached the top, he let his shoulders sag, and he huffed out a deep exhale.

Then, closing his eyes, he spread his arms wide, his palms facing forward, took a deep breath, and let out a primal scream. As long, loud, and soul-awakening as he could.

Then he did it again.

And again.

Until the voices in his head blaming him for Nadine, Ginny, Silas, Remy, and Chloe could no longer get a word in edgewise, and finally shut the fuck up.

He fell to his knees and pressed his forehead to the earth, his chest rising and falling like he’d just sprinted up the mountain.

This wasn’t the first time he’d come up here and screamed. He did it a lot after Remy died. It was the only way he could get through looking into his son’s eyes everyday and reconciling with the fact that Silas would never see his mother again.

Once his heartrate returned to normal and the voices knew he’d just drown them out again if they started up, he lifted his head, tears running down his cheeks. He embraced the silence. Pulled in deep breaths of fresh, forest air and allowed the fog to wrap around him. Closing his eyes, he tuned into his body and his surroundings. The way the cool, wet rock and earth beneath his knees seeped through the denim and onto his skin. Cooling his heated rage from speaking with Otto Pickford. The way the heavy fog blew against his face like a frigid, wet whisper, coating his stubble and eyelashes. Most of all though, it was the way his thoughts remained still. Peaceful. And the quiet of the mountaintop wrapped around him like a mantle of protection, keeping those intrusive voices from penetrating, and throttling him once more with guilt, rage and shame.

Up there, on the mountain, he was free.

He knew it was only temporary. That he couldn’t live up there forever. But it was enough to reset his mind, and remind him what was important. What his priorities were.

And that was his kid, his family, and his business.

He couldn’t allow himself to be sidetracked or distracted.

Not even by a pretty employee who managed to crack him open and get him to feel in ways he never thought he could feel again.

They werefriends. And as much as he hated that word, that had to be enough.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Whenhegotbackto the property, Bennett and Wyatt were at Wyatt’s house with all their kids. Ignoring the probing looks from his brothers, Dom walked right up to Aya, who was all smiles as she made beaded necklaces with her cousins at the coffee table in the living room, and he pulled her into his arms.

“Uncle Dom?”

“You’re incredible. You know that?” he said, still not ready to let her go.

“I know. But why?”

That made all the adults snort.

“Probably because you defended Silas against Carnation,” Griffon offered.

“Ooooh.” She hugged Dom back now that she understood. “You can’t let bullies win. They need to learn. And Carnation is such a bully. I wish I’d broken a bone or something and not just scraped her elbow.”

“No, we do not wish that,” Bennett said sternly. “Otherwise, you’d be suspended and not just in recess detention tomorrow.”

Dom set his feisty niece down on her feet, then secretly gave her a fist bump, which made her light up like a Roman candle. She giggled and went back to beading.

“So,” Wyatt asked, tilting his head to the side, “how’d it go with Pickford?”

“I’m banned from the school,” Dom said lightly.

Wyatt and Bennett both snorted.

Dom joined in their amusement and chuckled.

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