Page 3 of The Rowdy Ones
“Almost there,” Wild says, voice tight. “Mom is going to be so happy to see you.”
My chest tightens. At least I’ll have Aunt Eve. Leaving my mother was hard, but Eve is protective and fierce. If I struggle, I know she’ll step in like my mom would. It’s a small comfort I’m grateful for.
I’ve been to town once before, as a young girl, but I don’t remember much. We went to get my eyes checked for glasses like Ronan got, but apparently, my eyes couldn’t be corrected with them. All I know is Mom was upset, but Dad made it all better with ice cream.
It’s weird to think I’ll be able to have ice cream now whenever I want. We usually have to wait until Wild or his family bring some back in their RV. And because my family is huge and love their sweets, it never lasts long.
“It’s going to be okay,” Wild mutters to Rowdy. “I can tell you’re tense as fuck over there. Relax, man.”
The guilt clouds around me once more, suffocating me worse than Wild’s cologne ever could. With each passing mile, Rowdy is inching closer to a place I’m sure he never hoped to ever return to. I wish he’d just stayed back with our family.
But then you’d feel all alone.
I’m close with all of my siblings, but there’s a different sort of bond I have with Rowdy. He was my safe space when I needed it most. It was him who rescued me from those terrible people and carried me to safety. In a way, I feel like I owe him a debt I’ll never be able to return.
Maybe one day I can help him instead.
Maybe that day is coming in quicker than I ever thought it would.
“Home sweet home,” Wild announces, hands pattering the steering wheel. “I bet Mom cooked something good for dinner. I’m starving.”
The vehicle slows to a stop and then he shuts it off. I fumble for the door handle, but someone opens it before I get the chance. A large, calloused hand takes mine and squeezes it gently.Rowdy.
“Ready?”
Nope. Not even a little bit.
But I nod anyway.
Here’s to a new beginning.
This is real.
I’m here. At the heart of every fucking problem in my life. Alive. For now.
Dread pools in the pit of my stomach, but I don’t let it consume me. Right now, I have a purpose. She’s five-foot-five—give or take—blond, and extremely vulnerable. Destiny needs me for her own sanity and survival.
My internal struggles are unimportant compared to the ones she’s dealing with. They’re fresh like the scabbing flesh on her wrists. My wounds are deep, therefor easier to suppress. Hers need tending and caring for.
Focus on Dez.
Forget about yourself, Rowdy.
Forget abouthim.
Thoughts of Evan cause a flutter of dusty moths to scatter in my heart. I’ve done a decent enough job to keep them locked in a box, but now that I’m so close to him, those memories are beginning to flap around.
Destiny stumbles slightly on the uneven snowy terrain of Uncle Atticus’s yard and it snaps me back to the present. Out here, in the real world, she’ll need me as her eyes to get her through it. I can’t be that guide for her if my past blinds me.
Keep your eyes open and alert, man.
For Dez.
I take hold of her delicate arm and clutch on to keep her steady. Then I walk toward the old cabin that’s been added onto so many times it reminds me of my own. The wood is mismatched. Dad’s craftsmanship is immaculate, but Uncle Atticus does his best, which isn’t great.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Uncle Atticus says, voice booming as he exits his cabin. “A bunch of mongrels.”
Wild playfully punches his dad and then they embrace. A pang of longing hits me in the gut. I’m already missing my own father and we’ve been here all of five minutes. This is going to be a long trip.
