Page 13 of Brewing with the Mountain Man
Now it's morning, and the storm's breaking. Sunlight bursts through the windows for the first time in two days, and all I can think is that she's going to leave.
The thought hits me with a strange panic that pisses me off.
I don't need this. Don't need her. I've been fine alone for eight years—more than fine.
But watching her emerge from my bedroom, hair mussed from sleep and my thermal shirt sliding off that pale, freckled shoulder again, I feel anything but fine.
"Morning," she says, voice throaty. "Storm's clearing."
"Yeah." I turn back to the coffee, pouring two mugs because that's what we do now. Have morning coffee together like we're something we're not. "Should be able to travel by afternoon."
She accepts the mug, wrapping both hands around it. "That's...good."
She doesn’t sound like she means it…but I’m probably just projecting.
Bear bounds over with his rope toy, tail wagging hopefully. He’s been restless being stuck inside. He drops it at Sadie's feet, then mine, then hers again, clearly torn about who he wants to play with more.
I'm already kneeling down to grab one end of the rope.
Sadie kneels too, taking the other end, and now we're both on the floor with Bear between us, playing tug-of-war by proxy. Our hands are inches apart on the rope, and when Bear jerks particularly hard, she falls into me, laughing.
I hold her in my arms as we both freeze.
Fuck, holding her like this is too nice.
"Sorry," she finally says, adjusting her clothes and pulling out of my grasp.
She looks at me then, seated on the floor. And there's something in her blue eyes that makes me nervous. "Why did you go to prison, Ledger? What happened?"
Her question still manages to catch me off-guard. Though it’s not necessarily accusatory, or demanding. Just...curious.
I let go of Bear’s rope, and lean back to sit against the couch. Bear immediately brings the toy to Sadie, sensing I’m done.
"My sister," I say, and the words feel rusty. "Anna. She’s ten years younger than me. Sweet kid, and much too trusting." I scrub a hand over my face. "She got involved with this guy. Charming at first, the way these types always are. By the time she realized what he really was, she was in too deep. Scared."
Sadie's watching me, petting Bear absently, listening.
"She tried to leave him. Multiple times. He'd sweet-talk her back, promise to change." My hands clench into fists. "Then one night, she called me at three in the morning, crying so hard I could barely understand her. He'd hurt her bad."
She pulls Bear into her lap. "Oh, Ledger."
"I went over there." The memory is still vivid, even after all these years. "Found her with a black eye, nearly swollen shut, split lip, bruises around her neck. And him, drunk and mean, telling her she was being dramatic." I meet Sadie's eyes. "I lost it. Complete blackout rage. When I came back to myself, he was on the floor in a bloody mess, and my knuckles were sore."
Her eyes soften. "I can’t imagine how angry you were."
"I went too far." The shame of it sits heavy in my gut. "Broke his jaw, his nose, three ribs. Could have killed him if the neighbors hadn't pulled me off. The court didn't care that he'd been beating my sister for months. All they saw was my size and the damage I did."
"I’m so sorry. That's horrible."
I shrug. "I pled guilty, did my time. Eighteen months in county, but I mouthed off when some guards got pushy, bullying some other guys for no reason, so they sent me to state for another six." I lace my fingers over my knee. "Anna visited at first. Tried to tell me it wasn't my fault. But I could see it in her eyes—I'd scared her too. My own sister, looking at me like I might snap."
Bear comes over to me as if he senses I need a friend, and I pat him.
Sadie takes a deep breath. "You know my dad's a retired cop. Denver PD. Thirty years on the force.”
I’m sure he’d be livid knowing his daughter’s trapped with an ex-con who beat someone within inches of his life.
She continues. "He always said the shittiest part of the job was seeing people at their worst and forgetting they had better days. Said it was easy to reduce someone to their worst decision and forget all the good ones that came before and after." She picks at a stray thread from a nearby rug. "He made sure we grew up understanding that."
