Zoey probably doubts that I ever cared for her.
My fingers tangle in my hair, tugging at the strands as a growl vibrates in my chest.
I never considered compromising.I asked her to give up her family, plus a better situation for her job, and demanded she live in a town where I’m almost sure someone wants to hurt her.
Who would say yes to that?
What kind of man am I?
If only there was a way to go back in time and challenge my dense self.More growls spill from my throat, as if Warner from a few hours ago were standing in front of me.
But he’s not.It’s just me and my realization that I’ve made a mess of the best thing to come into my life.I need to fix this.
As I stalk to my bedroom, I pull my cell phone out and dial a familiar number.While it rings, I grab a duffel bag and start filling it.
“Warner,” is my brother’s only greeting.
“Roderick, can you come by the store?I’ve got something important I need to tell you.”
50
WARNER
When I stepthrough the front door of the shop, I find more than just my older brother waiting for me.I’m not surprised at the sight of my mom behind the register.It is her store after all.My uncle lounging beside her isn’t out of the ordinary either.
What has my steps slowing is the sight of my baby sister and brother relaxing on a display bench.Tanya and Isaac aren’t the handiest of the Jamesons, and my sister has been avoiding working at the family business since Mom declared it was time she started earning a paycheck.
Apparently, this is now a family meeting.
On second thought, this should make everything easier.Tell everyone my decision at once instead of having to repeat myself or risk anything getting lost in translation.
Roderick is examining a new electric handsaw when I come in, but he immediately returns it to the shelf and gives me his full attention.He doesn’t have to say anything for me to know I can spill my whole plan whenever I’m ready.
I open my mouth, but in her usual fashion, Tanya speaks first.
“Warner,” she whines, “why are we all here?I’ve got stuff to do.”
Her teenage dramatics make me grin.“I only asked to talk to Roderick.”
“Yeah, but he was giving me a ride to the bowling alley.Meghan is going to go batshit if I’m late.”
My little sister always knows how to wrench the spotlight out of someone else’s hands in order to make sure it shines solely on her.
“Most seventeen-year-olds can drive themselves,” I point out.
“Only the ones that haven’t rear-ended cop cars,” Isaac mutters, earning himself a flesh-melting glare from his twin.
“The varsity soccer team was running on the side of the road.Shirtless.That’s worse driving conditions than a Category 5 hurricane.The cop is lucky all I did was rear-end his piece-of-shit cruiser.”
A snort sounds from behind the counter, and I glance over to catch my uncle massaging away a smile with the tips of his fingers.Mom, meanwhile, ignores our bickering in favor of inventory.Or checking receipts.Or something else that involves staring intently at the paper in front of her rather than acting as mediator between her children.
“I’ll drive you after I hear what Warner has to say.”Roderick remains his unmovable, focused self, not bothered in the slightest by our sister’s complaining.
“Fine!”She huffs, retrieving her cell phone from her back pocket and using the screen to ignore us.
Isaac leans his head back as if he’s going to take a nap, but I know better.He’s quiet, unassuming, lacking the intimidating factor that is a necessary piece of Roderick’s makeup.But that only allows Isaac to hear and see more than the rest of us do.He passes around town unobtrusively.So, he knows things.
My guess is, he’s wiser than most other seventeen-year-olds.Probably more than most people three times his age too.
