Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
“Nana’s an angel now,” Blake said. “Right, Daddy?”
“That’s right, baby.” He tried to smile for her, but the grief was plain as day.
I was done here. I didn’t wanna witness his mourning period. I returned to Tariq and the others. But I kinda kept Joel in my periphery, unable to help it. Not much had changed since last year. Blake’s birthday was in August, so I supposed I’d have to see Joel then too.
We were equally tall at six-three, but I guessed I was a little stockier than him these days. I worked in an office most of the time; he was a sniper with the Coast Guard. I took long walks to the fridge; he ran ten miles every day.
I couldn’t fucking do cardio anymore. I lifted weights four days a week, and I would have plenty of yardwork now that I had my own house. That had to be enough.
Back in the day, though… Before scars from bullets and blades, before countless fractures, before my PMC years, even before my brief stint in the Navy—could I go back to that?
Right on cue, I heard my old man’s gruff voice in my head.
The only people who wanna go back in time are those who don’t like the look of their future.
2000
I pulled up to the curb outside Hayward’s residence, and I honked twice before I climbed out of the truck. It was hot as balls today. Nobody was outside on the street, except for Mrs. Milton two doors down. She sat on her porch as usual, with her binoculars, keeping us safe from drug dealers.
I shook my head to myself and leaned back against the passenger side door. The houses here weren’t much smaller than ours a neighborhood over. Chain link fences instead of white picket, though. Bars on the downstairs windows.
It didn’t take many seconds before Mrs. Hayward opened the door and squinted due to the bright sun. “I’ll be damned. Elliott! You’re home!”
I grinned and offered a two-finger wave. “Hey, Mrs. Hayward.”
She hollered back into the house. “Piper! Your brother’s here!” She promptly turned back to me. “You wanna come inside for some lemonade, sugar? I wanna hear all about the Navy.”
“Next time,” I promised. “My buddies and I are goin’ surfing.”
“Of course—this weather…? Whew.” She fanned her face, always a bit theatrical and a whole lot jovial.
A beat later, Piper came running out of the house with a big grin. “Oh my gosh, they juiced you up during deployment!”
I laughed.
She opened the gate, and then she ran into my arms.
It was good to be home. Ma had already filled me with food, and Pop had shaken my hand and said he was proud of me.
“Sorry I missed your graduation.” I gave Piper a squeeze, then let her go.
“You didn’t miss anything besides boring speeches,” she assured. Fucked up to think she was eighteen now. And heading for college in the fall.
I caught movement in my periphery and looked up, finding Joel next to his mom on the stoop. What the fuck? I’d been gone a year. Last time I’d seen him, he’d been lanky as fuck. A bit shorter too. Late bloomer much?
“Hey, Elliott.” He gave me a chin-nod and scratched his bicep absently.
“Hey.” I nodded back.
My sister’s best friend was hot as fuck, all of a sudden. How had that happened?
Chapter Two
The very second Joel said goodbye to Blake and left the house, I felt my whole body relax. The fantastic start to the weekend could continue. I was hearing the music, and everyone having a good time again. The danger had passed.
The sun was setting on the other side of the house.
I ordered the guys to take a break from carrying in moving boxes and furniture.
“You’re so sweaty, Uncle Ellie!” Blake laughed.
“Wanna come gimme a big hug?” I grinned.
“No!” She squealed and ran toward the pool again.
Crew and Toby had done the heaviest lifting, so they threw themselves into the pool too. Ortega wasn’t far behind. Piper and Madison were already there.
River and Shay dragged the loungers back to the pool area and collapsed in them.
I was half tempted to cool off in the water as well, but sitting down at a table with a spread prepared by Marisa always came first. Tariq and Gray had the same idea when they saw the snacks. Olives—the good ones from a deli—marinated artichokes, nachos, guacamole, several kinds of cold cuts, among them my favorite, black pepper dry salami, salted olive oil, and bread.
“Marisa, when’re you leavin’ Ortega for me?” I sat down and snatched up one of those green Nocellara olives I loved so much.
“Ay!” Ortega exclaimed from the pool. “You watch your mouth, boss!”
I puckered my lips at him.
Marisa laughed.
“This right here—this is my crack.” Tariq made himself a plate.
“Amen.” Gray followed suit. “Darius! There’s crack on the patio! Come on! You can wrestle with the kitchen table later!”