Page 9 of The Rowdy Ones
Despite being “in town,” Uncle Atticus and Aunt Eve still live on the outskirts of civilization. Game is plentiful around their cabin, and if I weren’t so amped up, I’d go hunting. But breathing in the icy air and reveling in nature is more needed right now than grabbing a future meal.
Why did I even come back?
This place already sets me on edge, but now I have to deal with a condescending woman who clearly thought poorly of me and my family. I’m not an idiot. She doesn’t approve of our off-grid living and is going to do her damnedest to bring Destiny to her side.
Is that a bad thing?
If I’m honest with myself, the answer is no. Destiny, because of her ailments and trauma, is struggling. My parents nor my family have the expertise or “community” to help her. All we can do is love her fiercely and protect her with everything we’ve got.
But it’s not enough.
Bad people found our family and hurt the ones I love. Our isolation and walls around our homestead didn’t keep the evil out. And even when we destroyed them, their ghosts continue to lurk. Destiny is a prime example of still being haunted by those people. Our love and protection didn’t save her from herself. She nearly fucking died by her own hand.
I hate to admit it, but she needs people like Gwen. I just wish it didn’t have to be either or.
As I prowl through the woods that thicken the farther I walk, my mind drifts to Evan. Last time I came out here, I was love drunk over that man. He dazzled me with his worldly knowledge and eagerness to have fun. I’d been drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Even when he burned me over and over again, essentially destroying my wings in the process, I kept coming back for more.
What is he up to now?
Did he give up the drugs and shit? Is he more like the guy I first kissed years ago or is he the monster he became?
Why do I care?
Because you love him.
Deep down, below the hurt and betrayal, the ache to be with my first and only love remains. I fucking hate that it exists. His hold on me is still there, even after everything he did to me.
My gut churns and anger makes my head pound. I’m not the guy I was all those years ago. At almost twenty-six, I should have moved the fuck on already. Gotten my shit together. Evolved away from the dark, sick, addictive love Evan offered.
A gunshot in the distance has me slowing to a stop. I’m so far into the thicket, driven by my inner rage, I didn’t realize how much distance I covered. I scan my surroundings, doing a quiet, three-sixty turn, trying to pinpoint the direction of the sound.
Probably just a hunter, though city people don’t necessarily hunt at all hours like we do. I’m about to head back when I hear a dark barking. It may be in the same direction of the gunfire. But soon that quiets down too.
The pause, though, is exactly what I needed to calm down. Defeated and suddenly tired, I locate a fallen log and sit my grumpy ass down on it. My pocket buzzes and I nearly jump out of my skin.
For fuck’s sake.
Stupid phone.
I’d been a little surprised when Uncle Atticus got me one too. I’m no stranger to them. When I’d been here before, Evan had one, and Wild and his family have always had them. But after a few years away from technology, I sort of got used to not being around them.
Now I have one and someone is texting me.
I pull it out and hold it to my face so it’ll open. It feels strange to be in the middle of the quiet woods, staring at a lit-up screen.
Wild: You okay? Busted out of here like your ass was on fire. Did you eat Mexican with Dad today?
A smile tugs at my lips. He knows where we went because I overheard his dad telling him, but he’s trying to cheer me up by being funny. In the past, it may have irritated me, but right now, I’m grateful for his friendship. I slowly type out my response to him. Yes, I know how to fucking read and write, but mashing the tiny buttons with my big fingers proves to be a challenge. I keep messing up and have to go back to fix it.
Me: needed air heard a gunshot and a dog headed back now bye
Wild: What a thrilling evening, Mr. Jamison. Try to contain your excitement.
I type slowly, and it takes me even longer to find the middle finger emoji, but once I do, I send him like seven in a row. He responds with a picture of himself flipping me off. I’ll have to figure out how to do that.
Not bothering to reply, I stuff my phone into my pocket and make my trek back the way I came. Maybe air truly was all I needed because I do feel better than I did twenty minutes ago. With the absence of anger, guilt trickles in. Being pissed at my sister and the woman who’s eager to help her is stupid. I need to be supportive. The things Gwen spoke about will really help Destiny and I want that for her.
The cabin lights flicker between the trees when I get closer. I smell the telltale signs of a fire smoke and find Wild squatting at their firepit as he works the kindling to produce more heat. Beside him is a pile of sticks and paper shred he’s using, but a long, sturdy branch nearby catches my eye. I scoop it up so I can inspect it. An idea forms in my head. Without words, I sit down on one of the benches and pull out my good knife.
