I gunned the engine, and gravel spit under my tires as I took my turn. I glanced back, and the barn was now nothing more than a dark blur. By the time I pulled into my driveway, the cold had settled into my bones. My face was numb, my fingers were stiff, and I was looking forward to a hot shower.
I parked by the garage, and as I removed my helmet, I looked up at my house and sighed. I loved the place. I really did, but on nights like this, I wished I’d bought a place that didn’t need so much work. I told myself it had good bones. That’s what sold me on it.
It was weathered, but solid. It felt familiar in some way, and I knew it had to be mine. I’d managed to get the outside paintedbefore the weather turned, but the inside was a different matter altogether. I pushed through the front door, and the hinges gave me their usual welcoming moan.
The entryway still looked like a construction zone. There were drywall mud buckets and flooring stacked high, and they taunted me as I tossed my keys on the counter and headed toward the fridge. I would get to them. I’d get to the new flooring and paint, too. I just hadn’t gotten around to it.
It seemed like every time I made plans to work on the house, something would come up. It could be anything. Club business, helping one of the brothers, or a shift at the Vault. It didn’t take much to deter me. I was beginning to think it was time to call in reinforcements, but this was my place.
I wanted to be the one who brought her back to life, even if it meant doing it day by day, piece by piece. It wasn’t like it was going anywhere, and neither was I.
I took my shower, and when I got out, my old man was still weighing on my mind. So, after I threw on some clothes, I grabbed my phone and sent him a message:
Me:
Hey, Pop.
Just checking in. You doing okay? Need anything?
Doubting he’d answer,I tossed my phone on the counter and started for the kitchen to grab something to eat. I’d only taken a few steps when I heard my phone chime with a text. I turned back and picked up my phone, and to my surprise, he’d actually replied.
I opened it and got a hell of a shock when I read:
Pop:
Making it. Don’t need anything.
Don’t know if you know, but your brother’s back in town.
He asked about you.
Me:
What did he want to know?
How long’s he staying?
Is he there with you?
I stoodthere waiting for answers, but none came. Just like that, Dad had gone off the radar, leaving me wondering what the hell Davis was doing back in town. I knew one thing for certain. It couldn’t be good.
2
PRESLEY
I’d always considered myself to be reasonably smart.
I made good grades in school, worked hard, and minded my own business. I had a steady job, loyal friends, and a small apartment that was all my own. I didn’t smoke and only drank on special occasions, excluding those glasses of wine I’d down after a bad day. Those don’t really count.
I wasn’t one to run my mouth or cause trouble of any kind. I was a good girl who followed the rules. I would even go so far as to cross the street to avoid anyone who simply looked like trouble. It wasn’t because I thought I was better than them. It was because I was afraid.
Afraid I would disappoint my parents.
Afraid I would get distracted.
Most of all, I was afraid I would like it. The thrill, the danger, and even the drama. So, I avoided it at all costs.
And yet, here I was, staring straight into the eyes of the biggest troublemaker I’d ever had the misfortune of knowing.
