Prologue
KARA
ONE WEEK EARLIER
“I’m fine. The doors are locked, the alarm is set, and I promise the softball bat is right next to me.” I only got off the phone with our parents moments ago, after reiterating the same sequence of events to my dad. Now, I’m doing the same to my brother. He has enough to worry about; he doesn’t need to add me moving out on my own. It’s been years since the accident, and while I understand his concern, sometimes you have to let the past live in the past, where it belongs.
The last surgery on my leg was the final in my healing process. It also meant more physical therapy, and I’ve had so much of that in the past seven years I could be considered a professional at this point. At least this time, my limp isn’t nearly as noticeable, and I don’t have to use a cane anymore. The car accident caused a lot of devastation and trauma. We prevailed, and I saywebecause if it weren’t for my family rallying together, it could have been a lot worse.
That night, my niece lost her mother on the same day she was born, and my brother became a single father, which he would have been regardless. Colt and Brooke were not destined to live in harmony; they were much better friends than lovers. It still hit us all hard to know Nellie would have to live a life without hermother. I went into surgery immediately, the hits kept hitting, and it wasn’t until this final one that I said enough is enough. There was a chance this last one wouldn’t help my pronounced limp and a cane would still be necessary, conquering stairs would be excruciatingly hard, and by the end of the day, the only thing I could do was sit on my ass.
“Good. I’m not apologizing for worrying. It’s what older brothers do. Plus, you sprung this on us at the last minute. I barely had time to rally the guys to help move you, let alone have Jude set up the security system.” I roll my eyes. Colt’s friends group includes like fifteen guys, so moving my meager belongings took roughly three hours. I’d grumbled to my mom over how my older brother seems to have friends coming out of the woodwork, whereas my best friends are my mom and Nellie, who’s my niece, and now that Colt has Sable in his life, well, she’s definitely one of us, too.
“And I’m thankful, please don’t doubt that,” I say on a tired yawn. I’m so exhausted after unpacking and putting things in their respective places that my talking is putting me to sleep. Plus, I have a weighted eye mask that I can’t wait to put on and sleep for a solid twelve hours before my work week starts.
“I know you are. Even if you weren’t, I’d have done it anyway. Alright, get some rest. I’ll text you tomorrow to see how your first night went. Love you, kiddo.” I roll my eyes. We’re only six years apart, but that still makes me younger than him.
“Good night, old man. I love you, too. Try not to worry too much. I hear it causes gray hair and fine lines.” Colt grumbles when I bring up the bone of contention.
“You’ll pay for that, mark my words. The next time you’re near a pool, you'd better be on your A-game.”
“Be nice to Auntie Kara!” I hear my niece say in the background. I glance at the clock and realize I’m in bed before eight at night. Nellie is still awake, yet here I am, showered, inbed, and about to put on the weighted eye mask she gave me as a moving present well before my seven-year-old niece's bedtime.
“Yeah, you tell him, Nellie girl. Okay, guys, I love you, but I really need some sleep if I don’t want to be a zombie tomorrow for work.” My job isn’t anything inspiring or glamorous, to say the least. It pays the bills, and they allow me to use my time off whenever necessary. And, boy, has it been used as much as possible the past few years. Honestly, now that I’m locked into my apartment after the whole ordeal of verifying my income and coming up with deposits for the small two-bedroom place where I currently rest my head, plus power and water, I’m not sure if I could find another job.
The problem: I wouldn’t even know what to look for. It’s not like I have a career in mind, and I’m pretty sure my crafting hobbies aren’t going to pay the bills without hustling while working a job, too. Damn, if only I’d listened to my parents and brother.
“Kara, you good? You went quiet on me.” I’m mulling over whether I should bring this up or not. I guess it doesn’t hurt to try.
“Yeah, um… I know you have someone coming in a couple of times a week to do the books for Barlow’s. Do you think maybe if she decides to quit, I can take over from her?” Colt bought the auto repair shop from our parents before Nellie was born, and since then, it’s only become more successful.
“Thank Christ, Kara. Only been wanting you to come to work for me for years now. When can you start?” This is why I’ve held off as long as I have—I didn’t want someone to lose their job.
“Well, I mean, I don’t want to take someone’s bread and butter. Plus, I’d have to turn in my two weeks’ notice.” For someone who was ready to pass out a moment ago, I sure did a one-eighty mighty fast. Which only means one thing: sleep isn’t going to come easy once this phone call is over.
“Cool. You’ll start in two weeks. Maybe the office won’t be such a shit show, and I won’t have to deal with ordering parts.” And just like that, there’s no going backsies.
“Alright, we’ll talk more tomorrow,” I say on another yawn.
“Love you, Aunt Kara Bear!” Nellie says so loudly, I wince. This is what I get for not putting my phone on speaker.
“I love you, too. See you tomorrow.”
“Later. Call me. Seriously, it doesn’t matter the time, I’m there,” Colt reiterates nearly verbatim what our dad said.
“I will. Hopefully, it won’t come to that, though.” I plug my phone into the charger that I’ll place on my nightstand once we hang up.
“Same. Night.”
“Good night, big brother.” We hang up, I double-check my alarm is set, turn off my bedside light, grab the remote, and make sure my fan is on high to drown out any of the noises I might hear through the night.
It doesn’t matter the weather, cold or hot, the air conditioner blasting, or the heater on, I need the moving air and the noise. The television is awesome, but I more or less get sucked into what’s playing, then sleep never comes. Once I have everything ready, I put on my weighted eye mask, sink into my mattress, and hope that slumber takes hold.
I replay everything that’s happened the past couple of days—all of the planning, preparing, and then working tirelessly to make everything the way I want it. My type-A entered the chat, making resting impossible anytime I saw a box that needed to be unpacked, and when my groceries were delivered, I dealt with it all over again, this time by myself, since everyone had left for the evening. When I sent Mom a text with the mountains of bags, she laughed, and Dad went into overprotective mode, a lot like Colt did tonight. I held him off, barely, and worked my way through the mess.
My eyes slowly become heavy. The crisp, cool sheets, the thick and plush patchwork quilt that my mom handed down to me as an heirloom from my grandmother and the noise of the whirring fan lull me to sleep. I roll over onto my side and put my hands in a prayer pose, letting out another yawn, when a loud, shrilling voice makes me sit up straight.
I rip the eye mask off my face. “What the hell was that?” I flip the light on and look every which way, ready to figure out why I would hear people in my room. I adjust to the brightness, feeling like I’m losing it, when it happens again.
