Page 35 of Love Me, I Dare You

Monty senses me approach him but doesn't bother looking up, his face hidden behind the black cowboy hat he wears on his head. “Grab me that mallet from over there. We have to knock this entire wall down. It’s infested with goddamn termites.”

I do as I’m told, picking up an extra pair of gloves and an old baseball cap embroidered with the gold Vanderbilt V from Monty’s short-lived time in Tennessee. It’s nearly sixteen years old and well worn, but I throw it on, anyway. Passing Monty the mallet, I take off my leather jacket and toss it over the fence beside us, picking up another smaller axe from the side of the house and getting to work, helping him knock down part of the wall our dad had added on to the property.

The four bedroom, three bathroom house was hardly big enough for my three rambunctious brothers and I, who at one point all shared a room together. That was until Monty moved into his own room once Monroe was old enough to take the other, leaving Beau, Theo and me in one. I couldn’t deal with being cramped alongside the two of them, so as soon as we remodeled the old barn, I cleared out the shed beside it where my dad kept some useless tractors that did nothing but take up space. I took apart the machinery and sold it for parts to buy any material I needed to add square footage to the small shed. As soon as all the construction which I’d completed myself was done, I moved out of the main house and into it.

Dust and debris float in the air around us as the winds pick up. Covering my mouth with the bandana tied around my neck, I dust off my shirt and set down the mallet. “Please tell me this is the worst of it.”

Monty laughs, pointing at the interior of the house behind me. “Go see for yourself, brother.”

As I walk through the door, the few happy memories I had disappear when I take in the horror before me. There’s garbage thrown out over every corner of the house. Like an episode of the show Hoarders, where old takeout containers and cat shit covers the entire floor. There’s rotten food and who knows what else is lying around as well.

“This is how the fucker lived?” I ask almost out of words for the condition I never expected finding the house in.

With a deep breath, as deep as he can take without inhaling the debris floating around us, Monty joins me, the two of us staring at our childhood home, finding it in much worse condition than either of us ever imagined.

He walks up beside me, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping the dirt off his face. “Apparently, the last few years he spent out in the barn, sleeping on the old couch we got when we fixed the place up.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “Have you sent pictures to Beau or Theo? Has Monroe seen this?”

Oh God, my poor sister would lose her shit if she saw her home like this.

Monty looks horrified that I'd suggest telling her. “No, and no. I didn’t want to send the guys anything until we did our best to clear out most of the garbage. I have a few guys from the construction company coming over later today and all week to help clear out all the trash. Then hopefully next week we can assess the damage done to the foundation of the house.” Monty walks back through the porch screen and opens a blue Yeti cooler I hadn’t seen before. He grabs two beers and hands me one.

“It’s nine am, Monty.”

He gives me an incredulous look and ignores me as he takes a long gulp of the ice cold beer from a local distillery.

“I’m going to guess most of the original hardwood floors are in okay condition and will just need to be cleaned, sanded and refinished, but that’s if there aren't any leaks in the plumbing that can potentially have caused structural damage. If that’s the case and we have to redo the entire plumbing of the place, we’ll have to take out the floors in certain parts of the house.” He walks further into the house as he continues, kicking the trash out from in front of him with his black worn out cowboy boots. The place fucking reeks. “As for the walls, they should be an easy paint fix. While the kitchen and bathrooms have to be completely redone, the bedrooms should be in decent condition. Most of them just have old cigarette butts and empty booze cans and bottles from the many poker games Frank hosted over the years.”

“I can’t believe the bastard let things get this bad.”

“This ain’t the half of it. I spent the last two weeks getting rid of all the junk thrown out all over the yard. The landscaping needs a hell of a lot of work, but that’s the least of our worries. We have less than two months to get this done. That’s if the asshole doesn’t…”

He pauses and I know what he was going to say. That’s if our dad doesn’t die before we’re finished.

Running a hand through my beard, I turn to him, frustrated he’s been having to deal with this all on his own. “You should have called me sooner.”

“I wouldn't have called you if I had any other choice.” The honesty in his statement throws me off, but I don’t blame him for it. I wouldn’t have called me either when I was the one who made it pretty clear from the start I didn’t want to be contacted. His expression turns somber, bright green eyes refusing to meet mine. “Sorry, I didn’t mean.”

I nod, turning away from him to not make this encounter any more awkward than it already is. “It’s exactly what you meant, Monty, and I don’t blame you.”

Monty takes another sip of his beer before setting a hand down on my shoulder. His fingers dig into me as he turns me to face him.

“I won’t hold it against you, Nash. We’re brothers. Am I pissed you left for so long, with no explanation, and kept away from us like we’d done something terribly wrong to you? Fuck yes. But what good will it do to continue to waste time by being angry? I need your help. Monroe needs your help regardless if she wants it. Theo and Beau rarely came back either. More often than you? Yeah, sure. But not enough. I can’t keep doing this on my own. Not this. Not dealing with Franklin and the shit end of the stick he’s left us with.”

The emotion in his voice is unmistakable. Monty’s only thirty-six years old yet he’s had to deal with so much on his own. Forced to take on more responsibility than he should have at a young age, has not only made him stronger, but it’s also shaped him into the incredible man he’s become. A man I’m not only proud of but aspire to be.

“I can’t speak for the other two assholes, Monty, but you can count on me. I won’t leave again, not until I help you sort this all out.”

He lets out a deep chuckle, seemingly unbelieving of what I’ve said. “And then what? You’ll be gone just as fast as you showed back up?”

“Staying isn’t an option, Monty.”

His green eyes darken and watch me with so much resentment. “Why? Cause of her?”

“Monroe doesn’t want me back. Are you really willing to force her to see me every day if I stay?”

“She’s not the one I’m talking about. Look, I don’t know what happened between Bailey, you and the Kings…” I interrupt him before he can continue.

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