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It smelled like he had at the end, like hospitals and sickness, not his usual Duke scent, and it struck me that I would never inhale that unique aroma that was purely my brother ever again.
Shaking my head, I flung the empty box onto the end of his bed and then rotated around, marching right back out of his room and slamming the door behind me.
“Dammit, dammit, dammit,” I muttered, gripping my hair and clenching my teeth.
I could do this. So why wasn’t I just doing it?
I glanced at the walls of my hallway for help, only to be accosted by picture after picture of all the people I’d lost.
Duke. My parents. There was even a portrait of my grandparents’ wedding, and they’d been gone since before I was born.
I was surrounded by loss, and it suddenly felt like the walls were closing in around me, threatening to suffocate me and take me into the afterlife with them.
Needing to escape, I hurried from the house, bursting outside through my back door and exploding into my yard as if I were fleeing a fire or killer hornets.
Panting, I rested my hands on my knees and stole a few minutes to just breathe through the near-attack I’d had. But I didn’t feel any better.
Instead of panicking, I started to feel pissed.
But none of this was fair, and I was tired of dealing with it already. I was just so...mad.
Glancing at an unused grill next to me, I noticed an old, abandoned spiderweb stretched between its metal legs.
I hadn’t grilled anything since Duke had died, and probably not for weeks before that because he’d gotten too sick to want anything. But once upon a time, grilling had been my thing. Wind, rain, cold weather, I would grill supper at least once a week.
God, this fucked-up life had even taken grilling from me.
Growling, I swung out and knocked the entire grill over onto its side.
The resulting clang was so satisfying that I kicked it while it was down.
Which felt good. It relieved a pressure that had been building in me for a long time. Needing more, I kicked the lid with everything I had, denting it to hell. With my third punt, I let out a war cry and disconnected the hood from the bowl completely.
After that, it was on. My shoe demolished the grill until it was barely recognizable. By the time I’d worn myself out, I was panting and sweat trailed down my brow. I bent over, resting my hands on my knees and hung my head while I tried to regain my breath.
From behind me, a voice said, “I think it’s dead.”
19
VAUGHN
Straightening, I whirled around to find Lucy’s brother, Beau, watching me from the other side of my backyar
d’s wooden fence, calmly resting his arms on top of the gate and letting me know he’d been watching me lose my shit for a while.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I blurted, not quite having reined myself under full control yet.
He flashed a rueful grin, saying, “Funny story, that,” as he unlatched the gate and strolled into my backyard. “Lucy wouldn’t stop pestering and annoying the hell out of me until I agreed to come over and check in to make sure you’re doing okay. And, hmm…” Nudging a mangled metal leg with his toe, he lifted an eyebrow my way. “Guess she knew what she was talking about.” He glanced at the kettle. “Unless this is normal for you.”
I sighed and scrubbed a hand over my hair. “I was just…” I motioned toward the dead grill and came up with no words to explain what I’d been doing.
“Yeah,” Beau said slowly. “No explanation necessary. I’ve been there a time or two. So you got any beer around here or not?”
“Uh...” I blinked at the last question and then finally answered, “Yeah. I think so. It’s really old if I do, though.”
Beau shrugged. “Eh, beer is beer.” He splayed out a hand in front of me and then shifted it toward my back door. “Lead the way.”
O…kay.
