Kane is a contractor. Does all sorts of shit. He’s still in our hometown in Saskatchewan. The only one of us that checks on Mom and Dad anymore—that looks for them when they go missing for months at a time. We don’t check on each other, but he’ll send a text with one-sentence updates if he needs to.
He needed to. Which is why I’m crankier than fucking hell tonight.
Lowesy is an only child, but had a happy childhood filled with love. His parents are some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. He visits them whenever he can, and they’re always sending him care packages from up north in Canada. Further north than my home. Nevermind the friend group he fell into. He struck gold with them. Got engaged to his best friend in the end. Won a girl who would go to war for him.
Talking about Penny was hard for him when he was going through it. I respected that. It’s why I know he’ll respect the boundaries made of fucking steel that I’ve built around me.
He knows a little. I’m not going to let him know a lot.
He’s still watching me with interest. Takes a sip of his beer when Forker pulls out his phone to bark at a few more teammates to come out. That’s my cue, and by the look on Lowesy’s face, that’s his cue too.
“Boss.”
I meet his eyes, swinging back the rest of my drink.
“Need a ride home?” he asks. It was a wonderful thing when he bought a house on the outskirts of the city. Brought him closer to me, close enough to save me from wading through hell to get a ride back.
I should have just drove tonight, but Forker persuaded me out of it.
“Promise not to ask me any of the probing questions I see all over your face?” I ask.
He stares at me for a second, and I fucking loathe the worry I see in those stupid golden eyes. “If that’s what you want.”
“Then, yeah. I’d love one.”
CHAPTER TWO
boston
“I’ll only ask once.”
I shut my eyes, leaning back against the headrest of Lowesy’s passenger seat.
We had a deal, you asshole.
“How about you don’t ask at all?”
“Once. I promise,” he continues, and I feel the weight of his stare as he examines the side of my face. “Are you okay?”
Not the question I was expecting, but just as bad as the one I was. I hate that question. I don’t know why. It always makes this uncomfortable lump of emotion get stuck in my throat. It’s three simple words, but it’s the most vulnerable and loaded question in the world.
I don’t even know what the word ‘okay’ means. I am not quite sure I’ve ever been‘okay.’
“Yeah.” I stare out at the road rather than at him. Easier that way. “Just family shit, Lowesy. You know how it goes.”
He nods, but says nothing. I think it’s because hedoesn’tknow how it goes, and he doesn’t want to say that. He’s never had to endure family shit like I have. The only people who might remotely understand are Arden Doll, Forker’s girlfriend,and Eleanor Lemon, my closest friend. They’ve got years and years of trauma, just like me. We should get matching friendship bracelets.
“I’m just going to remind you nicely that I’m always here to talk,” Declan says, and I dip my chin. No point in arguing. This brotherhood thing relies on these conversations and these reminders. I know I could call him in the middle of the night, say I need him, and he’d be at my door in seconds. “And that, as I was told once by some idiot with a buzzcut and ten screws loose: we don’t let each other suffer in silence.”
I chuckle under my breath. Basket case, Carter Forkerro, but ridiculously good heart.
“It’s just the usual shit,” I say, which is honest. It doesn’t surprise me anymore, but it never stops feeling so heavy, either. “Which means I have Kane up my ass multiple times a day. I’m just tired, man. That’s all. I’m good.”
Declan nods, pulling onto the dark road I live on. I study the acres and acres of lush, green grass, which can only look like this through the hard work and dedication of people like me. People who care. People who get their hands dirty. People who need a purpose. This entire stretch of road brings me a strange sense of serenity, knowing I built a purpose at the end of it, all on my own.
It’s confirmation that I am not a victim of my circumstances. I came out on the other side.
“Lucky wants to host a dinner,” he says, and I finally look at him. I’m all ears now that we’re not talking about me. “You free on Saturday? It’s for our wedding party. We want to go over some plans with everyone. If you can’t make it, I can fill you in afterward. The crew will be in town.”
