Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Sometimes, Jake and Lias had headed out on their own. Hunting, hiking, climbing, forgetting the rest of the world…
We’d all had that relationship with Jake. He’d been the epitome of an eldest brother, who’d felt the need to touch base with everyone in the family.
I loved my family to pieces, but something was always going to be missing.
Ma once told me, “My smile was meant for seven children. It’s a little smaller now, but my heart still beats for all of you.”
I felt an ounce of that too.
I slowed down as I reached Lias’s little cabin, and I pulled in next to his rusty truck.
His roof needed some repairing—preferably before winter. I’d talk to him about that. The campground was doing great; it was time for him to put some money into his own home too.
As I climbed out of the truck, my phone dinged with at least three messages, presumably because I’d automatically connected to Lias’s Wi-Fi. The road up the mountain was dead.
I scrolled to see two messages from Ma and one from Natalie.
Sorry, Ma. I went with Natalie first.
Since you didn’t respond, I feel the need to point out that I was only teasing you. I’m sorry if I crossed a line, Coach.
Girl, that wasn’t the fucking problem. The problem was her galivanting around on dating apps.
I wrote her a quick response.
I was just busy. Now I have half a mind to tell you to do 100 push-ups for apologizing for teasing. That ain’t right ;) Or maybe a week of suicide runs? What do you choose?
No need to reply to my mother. She wanted to make sure we were coming and that we hadn’t forgotten the gifts.
Pocketing my phone, I trailed up the rickety porch steps and knocked on Lias’s door.
In what state would I find him today? Hungover? In the middle of a battle against insomnia? Throwing a tantrum?
I’d seen it all.
I knocked again, and then I heard him inside.
“In a fucking minute!” he yelled.
Tantrum, it was. I folded my arms over my chest, hoping to hell he didn’t talk to his staff that way.
Moments later, he ripped the door open with a glare fixed in place, and I merely cocked a brow at him.
He stopped short, looking like shit. Holey sweatpants and nothing else. Unless we counted the mother of bed heads.
Christ, when was the last time he’d showered?
“Fuck,” he whispered. “The birthday party.”
I nodded with a dip of my chin. “The birthday party,” I confirmed. “You have ten minutes to shower and make yourself presentable. Did you wrap the gift?”
He made a face and left the entryway. “The saleslady did that. Can you bring it? I’m not going.”
Goddammit.
“Yes, you are,” I told him, entering after him. What a fucking mess. Clothes all over, takeout containers, a mountain of dirty dishes in the sink… He’d once had ambitions for this place. He was going to turn the old hunting cabin into a proper home. Put up walls and add a second floor.
None of that had happened.
Thank fuck his dogs were in their own yard behind the main house—not to mention cared for by the staff. They deserved better than what Lias was capable of giving them at the moment.
“Ethan, not today.” He sighed and threw himself on the old couch, and he leaned back and scrubbed his hands over his face. “I can’t. I didn’t crash until sunup.”
I didn’t care. He wasn’t going to get better by closing himself in like this. He needed to be surrounded by family, end of story.
I checked my watch. “Clock’s ticking. Nine minutes.”
“Or what?” he snapped, back to glaring at me. “You gonna force me down the mountain? Huh? You gonna play the guilt card like Ryan and Darius?”
I shook my head. “I’m not gonna play any card at all. You’re gonna do what’s fucking right,” I told him. “You accepted an invitation from a kid who’s celebrating his first birthday with the family—and you promised Darius and Gray you were gonna be there.” I scanned the floor in hopes of finding a source of clean clothes. Maybe the dresser under the window. I walked over there and opened the top drawer. “We honor commitments in this family, kiddo.”
He groaned and cursed as I dug out a pair of boxer briefs, socks, and an undershirt.
“You need to do laundry,” I said.
“I need to do a lot of shit,” he grumbled. “Bottom drawer.”
I bent down and opened the bottom drawer. Jackpot…? Jeans and tees.
I suppressed a sigh and threw some clothes at him. “Go out and shower. I’ll wait here.”
Darius and I had installed an outdoor shower for him before the summer when he’d run out of steam. When he fell into another depressive episode, we couldn’t make him do much—but this was different. He was wallowing. Complaining and bitching and…whatever. It was becoming difficult to believe that all this was about Evelina.