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I shudder at that thought.
I don’t want to leave my family. Not having Ronan or Raegan to joke around with or hunt with or swim with would feel so goddamn lonely.
The river rushing beside me on my walk to Rowdy’s cabin is soothing. It serves as white noise, chasing away all the terrible thoughts fighting for the forefront in my mind. I’m able to turn it all off until I reach Rowdy’s place.
Dad told me the story about how he and Mom lived here ages ago. I was born in this very cabin.
Though he told us that, he never did explain how he met our mother. What Wild told us makes sense—that Dad is Mom’s father. Is that why we’re all so fucked-up? Because we’re products of incest?
Mom didn’t admit it when Ronan called her out about it. She seemed shocked that he would suggest it. Maybe Wild got it wrong.
Or maybe he was right.
Maybe that’s why we live out in the wilderness. Not because they’re afraid of the bad people in the world, but because they wouldn’t be accepted. Hell, they can’t even accept the idea of me, Ronan, and Raegan lying in the same bed.
The double standard is maddening.
Our family is fucked-up.
“Here we are, Mage,” I say as we approach the cabin. “Let’s see what Rowdy has to eat first.”
Mage happily waits by the gate for me to open it and then runs up onto Rowdy’s porch, tail wagging. I let us inside and then turn on one of his lanterns. Unlike the big house and cabins up top, his house isn’t set up with solar panels and lighting. It’s far more rustic than my cabin. It’s old too. He has to fetch water from the river and doesn’t have water collection and filtration like we do. I don’t know how he lives out here, always roughing it.
I find Rowdy’s food storage in the crevice of the mountain that his cabin is built up against. It stays cool, so he keeps eggs and other stuff there. He has some pouches of venison jerky that I pull out to share with Mage. Once we’ve had our fill, I relax in a rocking chair Rowdy made with Dad.
It’s peaceful here.
No asshole siblings fucking.
Grunting, I close my eyes, choosing to rest for a moment before me and Mage go on our hunt.
I fall asleep, the events of the day playing over and over in my head like a torturous, never-ending cycle.
“I almost shot you.”
My eyes snap open to see Rowdy setting his .45 down on the table. Mage’s tail thumps on the wood flooring, yipping happily at Spirit’s presence. Some guard dog he is.
“Glad you didn’t,” I grumble, sitting up and stretching. “Sorry. Needed a place to lie low.”
He pulls a bottle of alcohol from a cabinet. “You look like you could use a drink.”
“Yeah, man.” I catch the bottle he tosses at me. “Thanks.”
I unscrew the bottle of tequila and take a hearty swig, shuddering at the burn of it. Rowdy smirks before offering to take it away. Hugging it to me, I shake my head.
“I think it’s going to take a lot more than one sip.”
He chuckles. “One sip. Sure.”
Shrugging, I take another one. This one warms my entire chest. It feels good.
“Want to talk about it?” Rowdy asks, settling on the floor beside the wolves. “I can tell something’s eating you.”
I scrub my palm over my face and sigh. “It’s…hard to talk about.”
“Like admitting what happened to me while in town with Evan? Yeah, I get that. I think you owe me your story since I gave you mine.”
He has a point.
