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“Ditto, honey. Ditto.”
As the call ended, I realized that my mother had told me he’d used the words ‘I love you’ only once. On the day of their wedding. What I knew without a shadow of a doubt was that my father was dying. The stubborn mule would wait until the last minute before confiding in me the truth. Great. Now the first thing I’d have to ask my new boss was for a few days off. I was sure that would go over well. But family came first. Certainly, he’d get it. He damn well better or I’d be stripping in one of the seedy clubs to get the money to drive back since I refused to take any money from my father.
Damn the man. Damn his honor and integrity, his inability to compromise. Sadly, it was something I’d learned from him.
Or inherited.
For now, I’d follow through with my plans, but I’d be forced to play them by ear. He was really all the family I had. I’d never been close with my cousins, and had no siblings. It was likely because we’d lived in so many locations, including overseas given my father’s position. I had to shake it off for now.
I climbed out of the car, hearing at least one argument coming from one of the other houses. Great. “This is just a start. Just remember that.” The pep talk did me some good until I opened the front door.
And I almost burst into tears.
I’d rented a shithole. The couch was very early Salvation Army and I didn’t want to think about what had transpired on the thick cushions. Everything was dark, barely any light coming into the room given the thick drapes. While there was a coffee table, it looked as if the last tenants had enjoying playing with knifes. Even the walls were scarred. The two lamps on the end tables had shades larger than my duffle bags. And I didn’t want to think about what substance had stained the tile floor, but it reminded me of dried blood.
After dropping one of my suitcases, I immediately headed for the ugly drapes, jerking them open. The light filtering into the room did little more than confirm the ugliness. However, with a little cleaning, maybe it would be okay.
Who the hell are you kidding?
It took me all of two minutes to walk through the rest of the house. Once I did, I returned to the living room, sitting on the sofa.
Then I buried my head in my hands and allowed myself to cry.
CHAPTER6
Savage
I’d figured out after fifteen minutes that I didn’t know shit about my brother. He’d parlayed his meager earnings into what appeared to be an empire. I had to give him credit. My parents had thought he’d be the black sheep of the family, a complete waste of their gene pool, my father had commented. Little did they know I’d be the fuckup later in life, while my brother became a millionaire.
I tugged on the thick rope as I tied down the Harley in the back of the truck. The salesman continued watching me from the window of his office, likely surprised I’d been carrying around enough cash to purchase the Dodge Ram. While the truck was used, it had low mileage and had had regular service maintenance. And the bed was big enough to hold my Harley while also sporting a backseat. Both were needed at this point.
The bike secure, I patted one of her skins before climbing inside and starting the engine. After glancing at my watch, I realized I had no time to waste. While I wasn’t certain what the fuck I was doing, I’d soon be forced to figure it out. I needed groceries and the thought of making a list almost consumed me. I was the kind of guy who bought whatever I was hungry for. Now I’d need to think about it.
Snarling, I glanced into the rearview mirror, trying to concentrate on driving. At least I didn’t have far to go. I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel, enjoying the quiet time. Yet my thoughts drifted to the last ugly conversation I’d had with Galen.
“Why can’t you think of anybody but yourself? Huh? You go around acting like some fucking tough guy, pretending that you don’t need to be a decent human being any longer. Guess what? You succeeded. You’re a fucking son of a bitch and I hope I never see you again.”
His words hadn’t been dissimilar from ones he’d said before, only at that moment, I’d known he’d meant them. And I’d never talked to him again. I rubbed my jaw, trying to face the real truth. He’d called me twice, but I’d refused to talk to him. I wasn’t one to lament over a lost moment, but I’d give my right arm to have one last conversation with him.
Hell, Mr. Jones hadn’t been able to track me down until after the funeral. I’d purposely lived off the grid, pretending that real life didn’t exist. “Fuck,” I hissed, twisting my hand around the steering wheel. I was angry enough with myself I needed some relief. That couldn’t happen. Not now. Maybe never again.
Boulder City. The location was twenty-six miles southeast of Vegas, but to me it appeared like an entirely different world. While the landscaping was still sparse, I’d seen a gorgeous lake nestled among the smaller mountains, the water just as blue as the sky on a cloudless day. As I drove through town, I was struck by how quaint some of the businesses appeared, a direct contrast to the neon lights of the strip, at least from what I’d seen in pictures.
Ten minutes later I found the place, remaining on the street for a full two minutes before finding the courage to head down the driveway. I was shocked that not only was the house older than most of the others on the same street, but it also had some land as well as a few mature trees. The Wilsons had taken good care of their home, the area inviting and warm.
And a perfect place to raise a family.
The thought struck me hard.
Before I managed to put the truck into park, an older looking woman and man stepped out onto the front sidewalk. Dear God, they seemed prim and proper, both dressed conservatively. Thank God I’d worn the only clean pair of jeans I had left and a long-sleeve shirt, which was why I was sweating like a pig.
After cutting the engine, I raked my hands through my hair. I should have tied it out of my face. They’d think I was some ex-con by the way I looked. Well, there was nothing I could do now. As I glanced toward the passenger seat, I snorted. The pink bunny remained exactly where I’d placed it, hoping for love. I wasn’t sure if this was a way to a little girl’s heart, but I’d soon find out.
Grabbing the stuffed animal, I stepped out, giving them a nod before walking toward them.
As I would have expected, the couple looked at each other after noticing the tats crawling down my wrist to my fingers, the other intricate design on the side of my neck. I walked closer, uncertain what to expect. Then the woman glanced at what I was holding and smiled. Maybe I’d made the right choice after all.
“You must be Hunt Masters,” the man addressed me, immediately offering his hand.
