Page 76 of Wreck Me
After that he’d gone to the gym that Landon’s wife, Iris, ran, but after an hour of punching the shit out of a bag and running on the treadmill until his lungs begged for mercy, he only felt slightly better.
Thursday morning, Aidan watched the sun come up—again since sleep seemed to have left with Megan—and he had the entire day with nothing to do stretched out in front of him. The week had been shit. He never saw her, but Charley assured him she was safe. But that’s all she would tell him.
His sister did tell him he was an idiot and no, she wouldn’t tell him where Megan was. It was just as well. He had to keep telling himself that he was the one who pushed her away, told her he had rules, and he didn’t do relationships.
Maybe if he said it enough times, he would convince himself that he wasn’t a dumbass.
Or maybe he’d just drink some more. He’d never been much of a hard liquor drinker, but whiskey was turning out to be a great friend when he needed one. It was about the only thing that was kind to him, at least for a little while.
Midmorning, he was hurtling toward a nice whiskey buzz when the doorbell rang. And whoever was on the other side was insistent.
He stood from the couch and only stumbled once in his haste to get to the door. His heart soared, hoping it would be Megan on the other side of the door.
That hope sunk like a rock when he found his front porch crowded with people he loved but had no desire to see.
Because they weren’t Megan.
“What the hell are y’all doing here?” he asked, his words sharp.
Charley barged her way in, catching him off guard—his reflexes were whiskey delayed after all—and forcing him to step back out of the way. His mother, Marcus, and Landon took advantage of his surprise and followed in Charley’s wake.
“Well, just come on in then.” He slammed the door hard enough to rattle the panes of the windows in the door.
His mother turned to him, her hands on her hips. “You may be a grown man, but I’m still your mother and I deserve more respect than that.”
Ah, shit.He rubbed the back of his neck, another razor sharp edge of guilt slicing through him. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to be an asshole.”
Charley scoffed from where she was pacing in the living room. “Please, everyone knows how much of an asshole you’ve been the last few days.”
“What do you mean everyone? What are they saying? And who istheyanyway?” So many emotions rioted around his head at that moment, his head spun. But he latched onto anger because it was one emotion he could handle. The others—some he didn’t want to name—he didn’t know what to do with.
Landon stood next to the couch, arms crossed over his chest, and leveled Aidan with a stare. “It doesn’t matter, but you haven’t made any friends this week, Aid.”
“And this isn’t like you at all,” Marcus added, his deep voice booming in the room, as he sat on the sofa.
Stella watched him for a moment before she turned and glanced around the living room. Her eyes narrowed on the bottle of whiskey and the empty glass next to it. “Doing some day drinking, are we?”
He wanted to lie, but he just couldn’t. He’d never been able to lie to his mom. And even though pain ate at his soul, he wasn’t going to start now. “Yeah, you could say that.”
With a sigh, she sat next to Marcus and gestured to the chair next to the sofa. “Take a seat.”
“Mom, I—”
“Aidan Samuel Reynolds, sit your ass down.”
The room went quiet at his mother cursing. She rarely did it and when she did, everyone sat up and listened. He bit back a sigh and took a seat. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and looked at her. “You have my attention, now what?”
“I want—” Stella started.
“You’re an—” Charley interrupted.
Stella glared at her youngest. “Shut it, Charlotte.”
“Well, hell, y’all are making your mama use everyone’s full names today,” Marcus muttered. He ran a hand through his silver hair and frowned.
Charley snapped her mouth closed, but Aidan swore steam poured from her ears.
Stella turned her attention back to Aidan. “I want to know why you broke it off with Megan.”
