Page 35 of Heart of Stone
He turned up the long driveway to the property. The Kingston place was a decaying fossil of a house. Admittedly, it had character and looked like an old Victorian home you’d see in a gothic horror flick, but it had been boarded up for so long it was a wonder that it hadn’t just turned to dust and disappeared. The Kingston family had owned a successful fleet of fishing boats and they’d had big money back when our dad was a kid. But health problems, divorce and one of the sons landing in jail for murder had destroyed the family fortune. The place had landed in the care of a distant cousin. But he had no money or time to keep the place up. For awhile he’d tried to sell it at an extra high price, but the economy in the area had been bad and there had been no takers.
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of buying this shit hole to fix up.”
Colt nodded. “Actually, I’m thinking that both of us, and Slade if he’s interested, should buy this shit hole. We could fix it up and sell it.”
“You’ve lost your fucking mind.”
“Probably.” He parked the car and we got out.
Weeds had choked off the brick path leading to the front doors. Colt tramped over them and I followed.
“I’m half expecting some ghost to float out of one of those dormer windows,” I said.
“I think that just adds to the character of the place.”
“Yeah, it also makes it a realtor’s nightmare.”
He swept his arm around. “Million dollar view, buddy. We fix this place up to its former glory, and it could turn a solid profit. I’ve already talked to the cousin who owns it. He’s ready to do a cash deal to avoid realtor fees and shit.”
“It’ll cost a fortune to fix.”
“Probably, but we could do a lot of the work ourselves. What do you say, bro? Now that I’m with Jade, I need to turn myself around. And you and Amy—” he stopped. “Anyhow, I think this could be good. I’m done with going out on the water never knowing if we’re going to come back. I don’t want to do jail time either. I’ve got someone I need to take care of now. I’m done trying to trash my life by doing illegal shit. Even our asshole dad worked for a living.”
I looked his direction. “Have you been talking to Amy or something? She was handing me that same line.”
“Because it’s true.”
I looked at the house. Wood was rotted, glass was broken and the facade seemed to be screaming for a merciful death. I glanced at Colt. He was excited about this. For more than two years, I’d been dragging him out on drug runs. I’d been in charge of my brothers since I was eighteen. I was thrown unwillingly into the role of fatherwhen I’d never had a model of what a good dad should look like. The only thing I had learned was that everything my dad had done, his beatings, his iron fist control, was wrong. So I’d done the opposite. My brothers and me had basically run fucking wild doing whatever the hell we liked. We’d been freed from a horrible prison once the old man had kicked. The chains had come off, and we could do whatever we wanted. Only the lines between right and wrong had always been blurred. So many times, our dad had tried to beat what he’d called ‘sense’ into us, but he never told us what that ‘sense’ was.
I took hold of the porch railing and gave it a shake. It wobbled. “Feels like the whole house might come down with it.” I glanced back at Colt. “It’s going to take a lot of fucking work.”
“Yep. I’m looking forward to it.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m in.”
TWENTY-TWO
AMY
Things had been smooth as cream for a day. My mom had busied herself cleaning every drawer and closet in the house, and she’d gone through her entire catalog of show tunes. But, by evening, right as I was getting ready for work, the humming, closet cleaner was starting to see small green bugs on the kitchen wall. I’d had no choice but to go to work. A cancelled shift was too much of a money loss. I made her a grilled cheese and then tucked her into her bed to watch television. She was dozing soundly by the time I picked up my keys to leave.
Thankfully, she was still fast asleep when I got home. I plopped down in my dad’s chair and turned on the television. My phone buzzed. It was Hunter.
“Hey, I’m here with the Bozo twins playing video games and eating pizza. I heard your buzzing little car pull in. Why don’t you come over?”
In his head, he’d squared away everything between us by ignoring all the stuff I’d brought up. As far as he was concerned, everything should just stay as it was. Hunter was good at ignoring anything that might take too muchtime or emotion or thinking. Because he’d lost his motorcycle, I’d dropped the subject for now. My own selfish need to be part of his life in some way had helped me to drop it. But deep down, the constant ache was still there, chipping away at my heart and soul.
“I need to hang out here. My mom sort of decided to just drop her meds cold turkey, and I’m waiting for all the damn shoes to drop. I’m kind of tired anyhow. But save me some cold pizza for tomorrow.”
“Yeah, right. Slade’s here, so I’m pretty sure there won’t be anything but a few crusts left.” He paused. “Hey, Street, if you need me just call. I’m only about thirty steps away.”
I couldn’t figure out exactly why his last words impacted me so much, but my throat clamped up and I could barely say the word bye. I hung up and glanced out the window toward their house. The light from their television flickered through the thin curtains on their front window. I leaned back in the easy chair and rested my head. It had always been a comfort having the Stone brothers so close. I never felt alone or unsafe with them just a few yards away.
Light footsteps padded down the hallway and my mom emerged. She once again had the flamingo beach towel wrapped around her bathrobe. Her face was down, and she was muttering about something. They were back. Her inner demons, the voices that plagued her night and day, were back.
“Mom, do you want me to make you something to eat?”
She ignored me and continued on her mission, whatever the hell that mission was. She went into the kitchen for a few minutes and cradled something in her hands as she walked back through.
