Wind whipped over my heated skin as I stepped off the deck.
Josh. Fucking. Davis.
Josh Davis and Rose Floris.
Engaged.
The rage released in a guttural scream as my fist connected with a tree. Again, again, again, the bark flying into the air with speckles of my own blood.
Josh Davis and Rose Floris.
Another knuckle split open.
Josh Davis and Rose Floris.
When the third knuckle split, I stopped, gripped the trunk and rested my forehead against the cold, wet bark.
I hated myself.
My heart was still racing when I looked over my shoulder and saw Rose’s silhouette in the window. Then, the curtains were yanked closed, and she disappeared.
Good.Go,I thought, because you’re too good for me.
Because I am crazy.
I am fucking crazy.
23
PHOENIX
I’d just stepped off the bottom of Rose’s driveway when two headlights cut through the darkness. I glanced up the hill where her house was barely visible through the rain, then back at the lights.
The truck slowed, the window rolled down. Not one to miss much, my younger brother, Gunner narrowed his eyes.
“What’d you do to your hand?”
I glanced at the blood dripping off my fingertips.
“Fell into a tree.”
He propped his tattooed elbow on the windowsill. He didn’t ask if I was okay. That wasn’t his style. Gunner was the wallflower of the family, the black sheep. Soft-spoken, although you’d lose a tooth for comparing him to anything soft. He was never the life of the party, never the leader of the pack, but he was the type of guy that when he spoke, the world stopped and everyone listened. Not a single person challenged Gunner Steele and got away with it. While I was in the hospital, Gunner had taken my place at the helm and ran the family business and took care of our younger brothers. He did it, did it well, even though I knewhe’d hated every second of it. Gunner was the guy you could count on.
Like I was then.
He grabbed a bag from the backseat, thrust it out the window. “Your ride’s in the back.”
I glanced at the small trailer attached to the truck. A black snout and black hair to match poked out the side.
“Got a blanket on her?”
“Yep.”
I flung the backpack over my shoulder. “Everything in there?”
“Everything you just texted me. Plus tacos and a fifth of Jack.”
The corner of my lip curled up. Yep, you could always count on Gunner Steele.
