Page 7 of Give Me Redemption

I nod and look out the window.

I’m okay, I’m okay.

I’m home now.

I calm the panic, breathing out slowly. I feel Bryce looking over at me, but I continue staring at the cars that pass by. Grateful when we get off the interstate and away from tire blowouts and near-death experiences. God, I just want things to be back to normal. Whatever that means.

Normal.

What’s normal for some is complete chaos for others. I’m sure there wouldn’t be a whole lot of people who would consider my life as normal.

Has fucked-up childhood. Check.

Has issues with being alone. Check.

Thinks his brother resents him for ruining his childhood. Check.

Joined the Army to try to punish said big brother, only for it to end badly for myself. Check, check.

Yeah, I live some kind of normal.

We pull up to the apartment building and Bryce parks his car. I open the door, ready to get out of this thing.

“Want me to come up?” he asks.

I lift the seat up to grab my bag, “Sure,” I reply because I’m not ready for the quiet. I toss the green Army bag over my shoulder as the sun beams down on my forehead.

“Okay,” he says. He shuts the car off and climbs out. We both head inside the lobby and walk toward the elevators. With the adrenaline running through me from the tire blowout, I should take the stairs. My brother uses a punching bag to blow off steam, but I like to run.

I hit the button on the elevator, and it slides open. Bryce signals for me to go in first, so I do. I haven’t seen the man in a while. He’s older and not just in age. He still looks good, though. Toned and lean, buzzed head, and nicely dressed as always.

I look a lot like him, just a little bulkier. I stand in Army pants and a green T-shirt, while he stands in dark jeans and a white tee. I’m not sure when our relationship took a turn for the worst. Maybe it was when he decided to buy the club Red and leave Grant Ranch where we grew up.

That stung. I took it hard. Our life hasn’t been an easy one, and the weight of the past is too heavy to sweep under the rug.

We have problems, but that’s nothing new.

The doors open, revealing the small hallway with shitty art on the wall. I haven’t been to Bryce’s place in a while, but I know his looks like money and mine looks like lower class. I could afford something better. I have a good bit of savings, but I’m not into all the shiny things.

“How’s everything going at Red?” I ask.

“Good,” he replies, lifting his brow. He scratches the back of his neck as we near my door. I drop my bag and unzip the small pocket on the side to grab my key. “The place has really grown since you’ve been gone,” he adds.

“Really?” I ask. “Good.” I open the door and lift my bag before stepping inside. My place is clean, which doesn’t say a whole lot. I’m not here often.

“Aunt Lou was going to go grocery shopping for you, but she didn’t have a key,” Bryce says.

I nod. “That’s cool. I like to do that anyway.”

He gives me a surprised look.

I shrug. “I cooked a lot in the Army.”

He nods, looking proud. “You’re better than me. Lou always gets my shit and cooks it, too.”

I laugh, glad that we’re breaking some ice here. “Well, you’ve always been a burner.”

He fakes being offended. “I used to cook you grilled cheeses all the time.”

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