Page 3 of Hope in his Darkness
Brody
“When are you goingto come home?” Dom pleads through the phone. I’ve been wondering around the country for the last two years. Trying to figure my shit out, not that it seems to be working.
“I don’t know,” I say solemnly because I don’t. Losing Georgia broke something inside me I’m not sure can ever be fixed. Maybe it was wrong of me to think that someday we were going to ride off into the sunset together, but that was a dream I held onto. Then she found Rooster, and everything went to shit. Now here I am alone and miserable.
“Where are you at this week?” Sitting on the tailgate of my truck, I take a sip of my beer while looking at the beautiful Rocky Mountain range on the other side of the pond I’m parked next to. I’ve been working at a cattle ranch in Wyoming for the last month. Hoping to find that elusive peace I’ve been searching for, I haven’t found it. Instead, I found some calluses and new curse words.
“Still in Wyoming, you should come to visit on your next break,” I suggest, even though I know he won’t take me up on it. Dom is happiest within the family dynamic; it’s how he keeps himself steady. I know me not being there probably has his animal a bit antsy.
“She’s pregnant.” Dom blurts out, he doesn’t have to say who, I know who. She’s the only thing I think about morning, noon, and night. She’s the only thing I crave, and the only thing I can’t have.
“I’m sure she and Rooster are excited.” They’re empty words that sour on my tongue. I know she’s happy with her mate. I know he loves her, and I know she loves him. It still doesn’t stop me from wishing that I was him. That she’d somehow picked me, or that fate got it wrong.
“She misses you; you should call her. Are you ever planning to tell her the truth?” I miss her too. I miss her soft skin, her heart-melting smile, and her luscious body. Just thinking about her makes me hard. FUCK! Should I tell her I’m in love with her? Fuck no, what good will it do either of us? It will only make her feel bad and I would feel more like shit for making her feel bad. Fuck that.
“Leave it, Dom.” I growl out. “How’s Pops and Cole? Everything at the bar doing good?”
“You’re being stupid, but whatever. We could really use your help, though. The bar has been packed and we can’t keep help. Our last waitress ran off with some biker.” He laughs at his own joke. Yeah, thanks for reminding me that Georgia ran off with Rooster, way to kick a guy when he’s down. Fuck, it still hurts. I rub my chest hoping to dull the ache that’s there.
“You got jokes. Har har har. Seriously, do you need me?” There’s a part of me that hopes he’ll say yes, but the part of me that doesn’t want to be around all those memories of her hopes he says no.
“Truthfully, we could use your help. I’m worried about Pops; he’s working himself to the bone. With being away at college, it’s just him and Cole manning the bar.” I can hear the worry in his voice, and I feel like shit for leaving them high and dry. After we took out the threat to George, I didn’t stick around to watch her ride off into the sunset, with Rooster. I couldn’t. Instead, I packed up my truck and high-tailed it out of town.
“Why hasn’t Cole called me? Why hasn’t he hired some help? I told him to call me if they needed me.” I have no right to be angry. I’m the one who left them, but anger is all I know these days. Anger gets me through the sadness, the depression that engulfs me every time I think of her with him. Every time I imagine his hands on her soft skin, and now every time I imagine her holding his child instead of mine. Fuck, why does this hurt so much? I thought time healed all fucking wounds, or some such shit. It’s been two fucking years and I still feel too damn much.
“I don’t know, man, don’t ask me. You know how stubborn Pops is, he thinks he can do it all. I’m only there on my breaks. School is kicking my ass. Trying to juggle football and my college schedule is killing me. I thought this would be easier than high school, damn was I wrong.” Dom wasn’t planning on going to college, but when Texas A&M offered him a full ride, he couldn’t say no. He’s secretly wanted to be a veterinarian since he was like eight, now he’s getting the chance to make that shit happen. I need him focused on making his dreams happen, not on shit going on at home.
“Don’t worry, I’m on it. You keep your nose in those books of yours. Shit, I’m proud of you, baby brother.” I am, he’s the first in our family to go to college. Pops was worried about his shifter strength and speed when he started playing football that someone would find out. Dom always had better control over his animal than the rest of us. It was like his animal knew he was destined for bigger, and better things and wanted to work with him to make them happen.
“Thanks, man. Call me when you get there.” We say our goodbyes and hang up. Sitting for a moment longer, I try to enjoy the tranquility of my surroundings. This place reminds me of the pond by our home, the one we always snuck away to together during the summer. The one where she asked me to change her and where I lost her for good. Anxiety is bubbling in my stomach at the thought of going home. All those memories of her are there. Along, with all the heartache I’ve been running from is there.
“FUCK!” I scream. My chest feels like it’s caving in all over again. She’s happy, I’m happy she’s happy, fuck I hate this. My heart still doesn’t get the fact that she’s not mine. That she’ll never be mine, that she’ll always be Rooster’s.
Sighing, I jump down from my seat on the truck bed. I slam the tailgate closed a little harder than necessary, denting it with my hands. Just one more thing I’ve fucked up. At least I know George won’t be there. She’s living in East Texas with her biker baby daddy. Damn it, I wish I could hate the guy, but I know it’s not his fault. Fate is the sonofabitch that took George from me, so fuck fate and its master plan.
Throwing the truck in gear, I peel out down the path leading back to the bunkhouse. I don’t want to go back. It feels like I needed more time to sort my shit out first, but my family needs me, and they’ll always come first. I’ll set my pride and heartache aside for now. Once I get my dad to see reason and hire more help, I’m out. A few weeks, a month tops, and then I run again. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself as I pull up to the bunkhouse to get my shit.
I’m on the road in less than five minutes, after shoving all of my belongings into my duffle bag. I don’t even bother telling anyone I’m leaving. No one’s going to miss me, hell most of the other guys working the ranch probably don’t even know my name. That’s why I liked the job. No one bothered me, and I didn’t have to deal with people wanting to know my story.
