HUNTER (The Corbin Brothers Book 1) (6 page)

Okay, fine. I was attracted to her. She was attractive. Anyone would find her pleasing to the eye.

And even as I tried to reason away this boner, I knew it was something else. Something more. She’d given up her life indefinitely to help me. There was a lot more to her than just a pretty face. Could there be something there?

“I love you,” she murmured, then jerked awake. “Sorry. Was I talking in my sleep?”

I was wide-eyed and terrified. She’d just told me she loved me. “Just a little bit.”

“I do that sometimes,” she said, and then she flung herself back over without commenting on her sleeping practically on top of me. “So do you, you know.”

She started snoring again, leaving me with a hard-on, a near-heart attack from terror, and a growing dread about what I’d been yammering about in my sleep.

Just like that…detox was done and the real work began.

The rehab was so brutal and so all-consuming that it deserved a music montage—some real “Eye of the Tiger” bullshit. I wasn’t running up flights of stairs and cheering for myself though. I was trailing Hadley around, following her orders, trying to get my balance, build my stamina, and get my life back in order.

“Be honest about your pain,” she said. “I expect great things, but I need to understand what your limitations are now that you’re off the pills.”

Even her mentioning the pills made me shudder. I’d been in and out of consciousness for nearly a week. I had no desire to repeat that experience no matter how much pain the rehab put me through. I’d come out on the other side of it even skinnier than before, unable to hold down any kind of food and precious few liquids. I was sucking down a sports drink—even now—at the direction of Hadley.

“We’re going to start off slow,” she said. “You’re even weaker than when I first got here. But you’re still going to be working hard.”

“Okay.”

“Hunter.”

“Yes.”

“I need you to be committed to this.”

“I’m committed,” I said, even if I felt hesitant about it. I was sober, that was for sure, but I was doubtful about just what kind of impact Hadley was actually going to have on my quality of life. Growing my leg back was out of the question, as was a time machine. Getting back my independence and my sense of normalcy seemed just as preposterous.

Still, I was impressed with the level of Hadley’s commitment. She saw me through the detox, she’d moved in to the house temporarily, and she seemed to have everything in order.

“Okay, then,” she said, though she didn’t look completely convinced or satisfied with my affirmation. “First thing’s first. You’re going to clean Chance’s bedroom from top to bottom, laundry included, and move back into your room upstairs.”

“I thought you said we were starting easy.”

“We could do some calisthenics, if you’d prefer, but I think you’ve vomited enough for one week, don’t you?”

“Fine.”

“We’re behind, anyway, if you’ll remember,” Hadley reasoned, putting her hands on her hips. “You were supposed to do all of this the first day we met.”

It had only been a week, but it seemed like a million years ago…Hadley in the shower, the way my brothers had ganged up on me. I felt like a different person on the other side of that, but I didn’t harbor any illusions that things were going to get better. I was going to get through whatever chores Hadley had in mind for me just to get her out of here so Chance could redirect the money he was spending on her back to the ranch.

We moved back to the bedroom—Hadley had just finished stuffing me with as much breakfast as I could manage—and surveyed the damage. I hadn’t cleaned it since I’d taken it over from Chance, and it was righteously filthy. I’d been stealing clothes from the rest of my brothers to avoid washing my own. I bent down laboriously, using the crutches for balance, and gathered up all of the discarded clothes around the room.

“Two crutches make it easier, doesn’t it?” Hadley asked, munching on an apple. She’d brought me a new pair with less wear and tear than the single crutch I’d been taking my frustrations out on when she’d taken a break during the end of my detox to make the run back into Dallas to get a few things for her extended stay at the ranch.

“I wouldn’t call it easier,” I said. “This still sucks. Why am I even doing this? If we had a housekeeper, I wouldn’t be busting my balls doing all this crap.”

“First of all, your family can’t afford a housekeeper. They’re paying me.” Hadley took another bite of her apple as if she hadn’t just delivered a devastating blow to my ego. “Second of all, do you really want to be waited on like an invalid the rest of your life? Third of all, if you want to at least attempt normalcy again, you’d better figure out how you’re going to do it on one leg.”

“You really need to work on your bedside manner,” I said, sweating already, just from getting all of the laundry into the basket.

“Do you want me to lie to you?”

“No.”

“Then get used to me. I’m blunt, but I won’t blow wind up your skirt.”

“How the hell am I supposed to get this basket to the laundry room?” I asked. “I need both hands to carry it, but I need both hands for the crutches.”

“Make it work, Marine. Find a solution to your problem. That’s all a part of resuming normalcy. You have chores you need to do, things you should be contributing to the ranch to make your brothers’ lives a little bit easier while you’re out of commission. Figure out how to do them within your new boundaries.”

I tried to balance myself on one crutch and carry the basket in one hand, but the damn thing was too heavy, spilling out the clothes I’d worked so hard to put in it in the first place. I cursed a blue streak.

“Be patient with yourself,” Hadley said, watching me. “The person you used to be knew how to do this his way, but the person you are now needs to find a new way. Maybe someday you’ll be strong enough to do it like that, or you’ll be comfortable with a prosthetic leg and won’t rely on the crutches, but right now all of these elements need to come together so you can do your chores.”

I put everything back in the basket and set it on the floor. Using the crutches for balance, I shoved at the basket with my foot, pushing it across the floor a few inches. I scooted closer and did it again.

“Now you’re firing on all cylinders,” Hadley said, smiling at me.

Every chore I completed was some new and unimagined hell. I couldn’t say I’d ever really enjoyed cleaning, but my disability put me at a complete disadvantage. I did the best that I could, changing the laundry from the washer to the dryer, sweeping, mopping, changing the sheets on the bed, scrubbing the bathroom from top to bottom, but I couldn’t help but feel like I wasn’t doing a very good job.

“Can we take a break?” I asked, all of my clean clothes folded and put back in the basket for transportation upstairs.

“Are you in pain?” Hadley asked.

“No, but I’m tired.”

“Tough shit, Marine. Drink your Gatorade and get back to it. We have belongings to move.”

“You really can’t expect me to get that laundry basket all the way upstairs.”

“I do and you will. Plus, you’ll put all of Chance’s clothes and belongings in it and move them back into his room.”

“Jesus.”

“What, are you phoning a friend for help?” Hadley smirked at me. “Good luck with that.”

“You were the one calling for help in the shower,” I muttered.

“That reminds me.” She fished around in some shopping bags that were by her suitcase and dropped several at my feet. “You’re also going to be responsible for making modifications to whichever shower you’re going to be using. Handrail. Grips. Shower caddy.”

“I don’t think I’m going to have the strength.”

“You just want me to help you in the shower again.”

“I wouldn’t say no to that.” I grinned wolfishly at her, and she threw her apple core at me. I only barely kept it from bouncing off of me and to my clean floors.

“After you’re done modifying the showers, you’re going to fix the doorbell.” Hadley continued her laundry list of “rehab” tasks for me to complete. Where was it going to end?

“That thing’s been broken for ages.”

“Uh-huh. It’s a nuisance.”

I rolled my eyes. “What else?”

“I’m so glad you asked.” That made me particularly sorry to have asked. “You’re going to clean the rest of the house, do your brothers’ laundry, sweep the porch, and start dinner for everyone.”

“You know how dirty this house is, don’t you?”

“I am well aware. I live here now, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I’m not the best housekeeper of the family.”

“I don’t care. You’ll do just fine.”

Hadley just didn’t let up. I had to admire her—however grudgingly—for that. She was the toughest person I’d ever met, pushing me beyond my limits, well past when I felt like quitting. I got the laundry basket of my clean clothes up the stairs—after several close calls and near disasters—and dumped them on my unmade bed. Chance was just as big a slob as I was, but I gathered up all his clothes dutifully in the laundry basket to take back downstairs and wash.

“Did you miss being back in your old room?” Hadley asked, looking around. “Has much changed?”

It was strange to sit there and ruminate with her. I hadn’t been back in this bedroom since I’d been a man with two legs, returning to the ranch one last time before going to Afghanistan. Even though Chance had lived in here since I returned, he hadn’t changed anything—right down to the framed photos on the dresser. I colored as I saw Hadley examining them, hoping she would pass over the photo of the blonde, but Hadley was shrewd.

“Ooh,” she crooned. “Who’s this with the glamour shot?”

“Ex-girlfriend,” I said.

“Does she have a name?”

“Eileen.” I made a move to start my perilous trek back downstairs with the basket full of Chance’s things, but Hadley wasn’t through discussing this yet.

“Who broke up with whom?”

“What do you care?”

“Just curious.” Hadley studied me. “She broke up with you.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because you’re still upset about it.” She looked down at the picture, then back at me. “What’d you do to make her break up with you?”

I laughed bitterly. “Lost a leg in a war.”

“Fucking bitch.” Hadley surprised me with her vehemence resurfacing as she snatched the frame from the dresser. “We have a new chore to add to our list.”

“Okay…”

“Come on. We’re going downstairs. Bring the laundry basket. Save yourself a trip.”

Going down the stairs was much more harrowing than going up, but Hadley had piqued my curiosity. She’d tucked the frame under her arm and waited for me at the bottom of the stairs, whistling tunelessly. I ended up sitting on the top step and scooting on my ass all the way down to the first floor, dragging the laundry basket beside me.

“Join me on the porch,” she said, opening the front door grandly.

“Okay.” I felt a little uncertain, pushing out the screen door, wondering what Hadley had up her sleeve.

“I hope you know that Eileen is a piece of shit,” Hadley announced loudly, the heat swamping us both and enveloping us immediately in heavy sweat.

“She just couldn’t really handle it.”

“She’s a piece of shit.”

I swallowed hard. “Okay.”

“Say it. Eileen is a piece of shit.”

“I don’t really want to.”

“Why not?”

I couldn’t say that there were particularly fond memories, though we’d rutted like rabbits. We were young and stupid, and when shit got real, Eileen took off. It wasn’t as if we were married or anything. We were just …

“Hunter! Tell me why you don’t think Eileen is a piece of shit.”

“I guess I can’t blame her is why,” I said finally.

“Why the hell not?”

“Because if I had been able to run away from myself, I would’ve,” I said. “And I did, in a way, with the pills and the drinking.”

“But you’re done running, aren’t you?” Hadley asked, her green eyes boring into mine. “You’re facing the music now, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Hell, yes!”

“Hell, yes.”

“Eileen’s a piece of shit because she left you when you needed support the most,” Hadley said. “Let’s boot her from your life officially, shall we?”

“I mean, she hasn’t contacted me again, if that’s what you mean. And I have no desire to contact her.”

“No. I mean like a purification ritual or something. I’m not saying we should burn sage, but we can at least get this damn portrait out of your house.”

“Okay,” I said, warming up to the idea. If I was going to spend the rest of the day cleaning, I might as well do some really deep cleaning.

“Excellent.” Hadley held the picture frame out. “Balance on both your crutches and dropkick this piece of shit as far as it will fly.”

“I’ll try my best.”

The first attempt was a dud, Hadley withdrawing too soon and me whiffing the dropkick, the frame dropping harmlessly off the porch and into the dust.

“Pathetic,” Hadley said. “Try again. I want to hear glass shatter.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

The second time was the charm, in this case. We timed the action perfectly, and I booted Eileen right in her smiling face, glass raining down across the front yard and gravel driveway, the picture frame skittering to a halt beside Tucker’s parked truck.

“Yes!” Hadley screamed, jumping up and down. “That was exactly what I envisioned! You hit that piece of shit right out of the park.”

Her enthusiasm was catching, and I found myself grinning from ear to ear—especially when picturing my brothers’ priceless reactions when one of them would inevitably stumble upon Eileen’s defaced portrait.

“You’ve made a good start, Marine, but we still have miles to go,” Hadley announced. “Where are we?”