AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Two things.
Ryker forced his face to remain neutral as his anxiety ratcheted up twenty notches. When Mom counted, that was bad news in the Matthews household.
“Where’s Zan?” Drake asked, following their mom through the kitchen and into the yellow room Kate called the Reading Parlor, looking around and stifling a yawn, apparently oblivious to any stress vibes. “I thought you wanted to tell us all something?”
“He’s out walking Sasha. Honestly, getting the three of you in a room to talk is like stacking marbles.” Patty and Drake headed toward the Victorian’s front door, both disappearing onto the porch to call for Zander in the growing dark.
Stress curled around Ryker like a poisonous fog. He wasn’t sure if it was from his mother’s tense body language or just his own internal distress. Ever since he’d read the email this afternoon from Paws of War notifying him that he was eligible for an immediate service dog training spot, he’d vacillated from a state of excitement to one of downright dread. What if he went up there, spent all that time with a dog, and they didn’t match? The worry was enough to make him queasy, but worse was the second alternative: what if they did match? The thought of the change in his daily life involved with having a dog—a creature who’d rely upon him for every meal, every walk, every…everything—was that an emotional investment he could handle? His leg was killing him, and between the pain there and the turmoil from the email notification, Ryker felt like his heart was pounding out of his chest.
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. It was a text from Tarun.
Tarun: How’s the leg, man? Any better?
The guy was some sort of freaking psychic—it was as if their experience in Afghanistan had bonded them in some weird wizard-y way. Somehow he always seemed to know—as if he felt Ryker’s pain during tonight’s run with Bryce in some phantom form.
Bryce. She was the one bright spot in these past few weeks. Who was he kidding? Being with her made him feel lighter than he had in years. He knew she’d sensed that he’d been off tonight. Between the HO pain and the indecision surrounding the email, he’d barely been able to focus on what she was saying. He’d had a hard time holding up his end of the conversation as he concentrated on picking the best footing on the uneven pavement, every misstep blasting white-hot fire down his leg, as though his prosthetic was filled with broken glass. Considering what the bone scans showed, that wasn’t surprising. While he’d have to wait to see what his surgeon said, the fact that the growths were larger had been weighing on him, just like the talk about his potential sterility. He’d meant to tell Bryce everything, but she’d had so many other things going on, it didn’t feel fair to burden her.
His mom, followed by his brothers, tromped up the steps and into the house. Before they came into the room, Ryker typed out a response to his friend.
Ryker: Same old story there. Got other news, tho. Someone dropped out last minute, and I got offered a service dog training slot. Gotta go to Long Island tomorrow for a 5 day training.
Ryker finished the text and saw the message indicator go from Sent to Read in the moment before Zander came up, delivering a healthy jab to his arm.
“Dude,” Zander said, his right eye totally bloodshot. “I saw a picture of you subbing in for me as the Easter Bunny for the Weatherford girls. Scared the shit out of me.”
Ryker rolled his eyes, giving his younger brother a good thwack in the stomach. “We all know your eye injury was from trying to force the costume over that big melon of yours.”
“Boys, take a seat,” his mother said, gesturing to the leather sofa, her lips pursing as she gazed at them both. “Why is it every time you two are together, a wrestling match breaks out? Can’t you just sit down next to Drake so we can talk?”
“Why do I feel like we’re going to need some alcohol with this news?” Zander asked, and as his brother reached for the whiskey glasses on Nana’s old teacart, Ryker took the opportunity to sit, exhaling with relief as he propped his left leg on the coffee table.
Sasha, Drake’s tiny shih tzu, immediately jumped up onto his lap, her tail wagging for pets. Ryker focused on her sweet, caramel-and-white furry face and the thudding of his heart became more modulated.
“Here, dude.” Zander handed Ryker a tumbler with two fingers’ worth of alcohol, then one to Drake. Zander offered the third glass to Mom, but she only raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay, fine. I’ll keep this one.”
Ryker held the drink but had no intention of imbibing. Alcohol this time of night, triggering another PTSD episode, was the last thing he needed. His phone buzzed in his lap, and he juggled Sasha around to peek at it.
Tarun: Ok. I’ve got the weekend off. I’ll be at your house at 06:00, sharp. Then, we ride!
Ryker snorted, recalling his friend’s obsession with old western movies. He was about to reply, telling him he didn’t need Tarun to drop everything and hold his hand on this road trip, which might amount to a big nothing-burger, when Mom’s voice snapped his attention up like it had when he’d been a boy.
“Think you can tear yourself away from that phone, Ryker? I have something important to discuss with all of you.” Mom’s face was flushed—a look she got only if she was nervous or ticked off.
Neither one boded well for the message to come.
“Sorry, Mom.” He stuffed the cell into his pocket. Then he shoved his worries to the side, making an effort to replace his usual RBF with something…more open to accepting whatever bombshell his mother was about to drop. She never called them together unless it was an emergency.
His mind immediately went to Nana Grace—his grandmother was in assisted living and had celebrated her one-hundredth birthday a few months ago. Was that it? Was Nana dead? Dying? Or was it Mom? Was she sick?
He stroked Sasha, who immediately rolled over, her eyes closed in blissful appreciation as he rubbed her pink belly. Ryker smoothed the fur on her chest, forcing his mind to focus on the task, blocking out the Paws of War opportunity, the aching area below his left knee, and his worries about his relationship with Bryce.
“I’ve made some life decisions recently. Been making a new map of my goals.” Mom’s blue eyes snapped with determination. “I have two things I want to say that I’ve been keeping a secret until I was sure. And now I am. So I need you to be the good boys I raised and keep an open mind.”
In normal circumstances, this would’ve been the ideal opportunity for Zander to make some dumb-ass joke about how Ryker’s mind was so empty it was better than open for all that went on between his ears.
But his kid brother was uncharacteristically silent. Zan’s blue eyes widened, and he ran a hand through his shaggy hair in the nervous gesture he’d had since childhood.
“Of course.” Drake cleared his throat, doing his big-bro thing and attempting to shoulder all responsibility. “What is going on, Mom?”
