Page 10 of Broken Player

His reassurance made me feel marginally better as I closed my eyes, breathing in his comforting smell. Not for the first time, I found myself wishing my best friend wasn't gay because life would be so much easier if I could just move on and set my heart free. For now, I had bigger things to worry about than Maddox Everleigh's imprint on my soul.

Stepping off the jet, I felt like I was walking to my execution. The tiny flicker of excitement I'd let myself feel at the prospect of seeing Ryan again had long since been extinguished by reality. Even if shewashappy to see me and I did happen to run into her, based on her last Instagram post, she'd long since moved on from her teenage crush on me.

I walked across the hot concrete, cracked and warped under the unrelenting Texas sun, and slid into the waiting Tahoe with blacked-out windows. The truck probably drew more attention than I wanted, but I'd need whiskey to get me through this day, and I wasn't in the habit of driving drunk.

As soon as the door closed me inside, the driver started the hour-long trek to Everleigh Ranch, the last place on Earth I ever thought I'd step foot back on. I pulled out my flask, lifted it to my lips, and took a big swig, the burn making its way down into my stomach. I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the cool leather seat.

I needed to brace myself for what I was walking into. I hadn't seen or spoken to my old man in twelve years, but I could only imagine he'd gotten worse in time, not better. Beating on me because I hadn't earned any money that he could take to fuel his drinking or gambling habits when I was only ten years old had been my breaking point. I'd finally snapped and decided I would do anything to get out of here as soon as possible.

When I left, I vowed I'd never look back. And I'd tried damn hard not to. But as the dirt kicked up around the truck and we flew down the familiar road that never quite felt like home, I rolled my shoulders. I tried to clamp down on all the memories wanting to break free of the cage in my mind where they lived. No matter what happened today, I wouldn't let this place, my dad, or the girl next door, drag me back.

I'd worked too damn hard for too damn long to end up right back where I started, in the dark hole I'd worked to claw my way out of. If I had any luck at all on my side, I wouldn't have to face my dad at all. I was only here a day, and when I was a kid, he'd disappear for days at a time on drunken benders or gambling binges. I internally crossed my fingers that he'd stay away today, and I could clean up his mess and go home before anyone knew I was here.

If he was there, I had no idea what I'd do. I wouldn't be surprised if I laid hands on him, to return the abuse he heaped on me for years. Every punch, slap, belt lashing, broken bone, bruise, and mark on my body that he'd caused, I itched to return tenfold.

It would take every ounce of self-control I had to keep my temper in check. As we pulled up, I glanced around and didn't see his truck. The small house was in worse condition than when I'd left, the paint chipped and the roof with missing shingles. There were no warm and fuzzy feelings of nostalgia looking at this place. No, my stomach was filled with lead.

My phone vibrating pulled me out of my thoughts, and I glanced down at the screen, a small smile breaking out across my face. It was yet another picture of my niece, True's daughter, Phoenix. That kid was so damn cute, and she had all of us wrapped around her finger, even if it was annoying to get twenty-five text messages every day about her.

Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. Every muscle in my body tensed, not even remotely prepared to deal with my dad. But I breathed out a deep sigh when I saw it was just Joel who'd come onto the sagging front porch to greet me.

Throwing open the door, I slid out of the car, the Texas heat assaulting my body immediately. I forgot how fucking hot Texas was in the summer. I lived in LA, I was used to warm weather, but this shit was unbearable, like the goddamn seventh circle of hell. Sweat instantly beaded on my forehead, and I regretted my decision to dress in my usual all black. At least it was only one day.

Joel dipped his head, tipping his hat at me. He'd worked for my dad for years, but I'd only ever talked to him on the phone. When I was a kid, I'd been the one to do the hard labor around the ranch. My old man never had the money to pay for help, so it all fell to me. At least until I ran away and he didn't have a goddamn choice in the matter.

"Hey, Joel, right? I'm Maddox." I stretched out my hand to him, his rough, tan palm gripped mine firmly before letting go. He wore a sympathetic expression on his face, and a chill ran over my body despite the scorching heat.

"Good to meet you, son. Sorry it wasn't under better circumstances."

I looked past him at the front door, then shifted my eyes back. "Is he home?" I wondered, dreading the answer.

Joel shook his head. "Nah, hasn't been here for a few days, best I can tell."

I swore a fifty-pound weight lifted off of my shoulders as I exhaled. Maybe Russell wouldn't be back today. Maybe I wouldn't have to see anyone and could get the fuck out of here relatively unscathed.

I moved around the porch, bending down and reaching under the withered potted plant sitting next to the door to find the spare key. Gripping the warm metal in my palm, I opened the door, and as it swung open, a wall of stale air and old beer hit me in the face. Joel wordlessly followed me inside, wincing at the smell and the heat.

The old air conditioner sat in the window unused, if it even worked anymore. I found the light switch and flipped it up, but nothing happened. "Guess the power's out," I muttered.

Joel shrugged. "I doubt Russell's paid the bill."

"Let's talk on the porch," I suggested, moving back outside. I couldn't be in that house until I got the power back on.

When we'd crossed over the threshold, I sucked in a big breath of fresh air. Now that I could breathe again, I needed to figure out how to fix shit as fast as I could so I could leave in the morning. Joel leaned against the wooden post holding up the roof, his arms folded across his chest, waiting for me to speak. He seemed like he was a man of few words, and I appreciated that.

"I'll get the electricity on, but I need to know what's been happening around here so I can straighten shit out. This place looks worse than it did when I was a kid," I observed, looking around at the unkempt fields of grass beside the house.

Joel uncrossed his arms and lifted his hat, swiping a hand through his matted hair. "It's been bad for a long time. Russell has no business running a ranch. He can't take care of himself, and he sure as hell can't be trusted to take care of his animals," Joel seethed. I could see this shit really got to him. It warmed my cold, unfeeling heart just a little that he cared about the animals enough to go over my dad's head and call me in. I might have to make some bigger changes around here than I was initially planning.

The gears in my mind started whirring, frantically trying to rearrange the original plans I'd made. A small smile tugged at my lips as I considered taking this entire day in a new direction. The only downside was I'd have to stay longer than the one day I'd first committed to. But, if things worked out like I thought they might, it'd be worth it.

I'd finally show my old man what a fucking useless waste of space he was and get him out of my life for good.

Rubbing my temples,I tried to stave off the throbbing in my skull. I was not made for staring at endless pages of spreadsheets. Fuck. I'd been lucky that Joel had maintained at least some semblance of financial records for this place since my old man hadn't done shit.

He'd done worse than shit. He ran this place so far into the red he'd never be able to dig himself out of it. But that's what I'd been counting on. The sun had sunk low in the sky, and so far, I'd been lucky. Russell hadn't shown his face. But just as the thought slipped into my mind, footsteps echoed on the front porch. My whole body tensed up, a habit left over from my childhood that I hadn't outgrown even a dozen years later.

The chair scraped across the scratched up wooden floorboards as I stood, my fists clenched, and I prepared myself for a fight. But as I caught a flash of wavy brown hair blowing on the breeze, I realized it'd be a different kind of struggle I'd be facing right now. One that involved my heart and that I was even less prepared to deal with.

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