Chapter Ten
Maddox
By the time I got back to the mountains where I lived, a hell of a storm was brewing. Wind gusted through the trees, rain flew sideways in the air, and lightning crashed every few minutes.
I pulled up to the gate outside the community, eager to get off the road for good. There was a truck parked to the side of the gate, which was unusual. I figured it meant the steep roads inside had gotten slick from rain, although it was strange to have someone in such an old, beaten vehicle at the pricy gated community.
Rain splattering the visor of my helmet, I remembered how empty the fridge must be in the house after two months of my absence. I hated driving on those steep mountain roads in a rainstorm, but a part of me considered turning around and heading to the closest corner store anyway. I had a carton of eggs and some bacon in my bag for the next morning, but if I stocked up, I’d be able to barricade myself in the house for a few days. I could get back to my welding, take some nice hikes around the property, and enjoy the quiet of living so far from the city.
Then another crash of lightning exploded above me, and my heart skipped a beat when a giant branch fell in the middle of the road, about fifty feet behind me.
Maybe home is the smarter option after all.
I kicked down the stand, then headed over to the gate, typing the security code into the box. When it swung open, I pushed my motorcycle through, closing it carefully behind me. The branch in the road looked substantial, almost like a small tree, and I knew it would take the county at least a couple of days to get up there to clear it. Thinking of my chainsaw waiting in the toolshed, I made a silent promise to tend to it the next day.
Riding my bike slowly up the road, I thought about how good a hot shower would feel and how luxurious the flannel sheets would be after a couple of months on the road. When I had been a kid, the vacation home had seemed just as spoiled as everything else my family owned. I couldn’t think about it without remembering my father’s hypocrisy and all the people he exploited to pay for the property. When he put it in my name after I turned eighteen, I hadn’t even cared about the place. Back then, I was too obsessed with burning my life down to see anything else.
Luckily, over time, I had gotten my head on straight. Just because my parents were awful didn’t mean I had to act out, and just because the house held depressing memories didn’t mean I couldn’t fill it with new ones.
Cruising slowly between the towering trees, I was relieved to have made it this far in the first place. I had always pictured myself dying in a blaze of glory before I turned thirty, and god damn it if I didn’t try. I probably would have gone acting like a tough guy forever, but then I had a run-in with an older barfly at the dive where Declan used to work. The stranger had silver hair, a mean glare, and more scars than I could count. The evening I ran my last job with Declan, me and that gruff barfly had polished off a few pitchers of beer and shared battle stories, comparing close calls and thrilling escapes until I couldn’t see straight.
I told that man some truths I hadn’t even admitted to myself. I told him that I hated the feeling of stealing from my family and that I regretted so many of the choices I had made.
And then he leveled with me. The third pitcher nearing the bottom, he told me about the friend of his who got a life sentence and the sobering moment when he decided to leave the game behind.You keep thieving and running wild for long enough, you forget why you started in the first place, he told me.
And godamn if I hadn’t forgotten. Back when I was an angry teen, I couldn’t tell my father what I really thought, but I could piss him the hell off by dragging the family name through the dirt and embarrassing everyone on the way. Being a black sheep gave me freedom when I couldn’t find any other way to escape the life my father was building for me.
But years later, when I was nearing thirty and still raising hell, those excuses didn’t hold anymore.
I was a different man now, with a different life ahead of me. And as another crash of thunder shattered the evening, I was just glad to have a home to return to.
Turning the last bend, I smiled to see my house. At the top of the hill, it looked like a beacon, shining in the night. I stared at the vision for a solid minute, just smiling to myself while the rain pelted against my leather jacket.
And then I blinked and realized something wasn’t quite right.
Why the hell are the lights on?
