Into the Nothing (Broken Outlaw Series Book 1) (20 page)

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Authors: BT Urruela

Tags: #Broken Outlaw Series, #Book One

BOOK: Into the Nothing (Broken Outlaw Series Book 1)
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“Jesus fucker, say something. I know you’re eating, but shit. Talk between bites or something. You’re making shit awkward now.” Irish’s voice pulls me from my haze as I pop the last of the burger into my mouth and wash it down with a swig of beer. I hadn’t realized it, but I finished my entire burger without a word between us. My mind was too busy lost in the collection of memories. That was a different place in my life—a different me.

“Something on your mind?” he asks.

“Nah, man. More or less just trying to figure out where I go from here.”

“Fort Lewis, no?” He knows just enough about my past to understand I would make it up there someday.

“Eventually… or maybe not. I don’t know, man. I think I’ve just gotta figure some shit out before I take all that on. I’m twenty-seven. I’ve never had a job for longer than six months. I don’t like putting roots down anywhere. Three years in Columbus with you guys—actually settling and getting close to people—that’s rare, man. I’m learning that the hard way in Truman Valley.”

“How do you mean?”

“Just not making too many friends over there.”

“No?”

“Not even close.”

“You fuck the wrong woman?” he asks, knowing my history full well. Women are trouble for me. I spend just enough time with them to get what I need, and when it comes time to get real—to open myself up to another person fully, to give them all of me—I run. And I run fast. Women are my Kryptonite and love is foreign to me.

“Not quite. There is a girl, and the bullshit involves her, but we haven’t fucked or anything like that. I work for her dad. We’ve made out a few times, but that’s it. Nothing serious. This is just a pit stop for me.”

There’s doubt in his eyes. “You sure about that, man?”

“Positive. She’s just got this crazy ex who’s been a fucking pain. Him and two of his bitches.”

“Anything we need to tend to while I’m in town?”

“No, not at all. Best to try and not let it get to me. I’m too old for all this shit. In the old days, we’d handle this how we’ve handled any other situation. But now, I’m just over it. He’s just trying to get under my skin.”

“Is it working?”

“Is it hard to get under my skin?” I ask with an eyebrow raised.

“Well, we did start as enemies.”

“Because you’re a shit-talking Mick.”

“And you’re a sensitive prick,” he says, laughing as he stands. “There’s a real nice strip joint out off Highway Z. A
real
classy place.” He takes a quick glance at his wristwatch. “And with it being one in the afternoon, they’re really going to have their prime ladies up dancing.”

“You mean their fuckin’ D squad.” I laugh, but his face is nothing but serious. “You’re not fucking around, are you?”

He just shakes his head and walks toward his car, a souped-up Camaro that is comically small for a dude pushing 6’4.

Irish motions to the passenger side. “Get the fuck in, you cock.” He lumbers into the driver’s seat and I reluctantly climb in the car after him, noticing for the first time the Purple Heart license plate. It reads one word… IRISH.

 

 

B
randi and I sit cross-legged on my bed, the sun long since set. With a half finished bottle of wine, we’re getting our Netflix and chill on hard. It’s a nice little reminder that the last time I actually “Netflix and chilled” was more than six months ago.

Rowdy’s big head lies on my lap, pulling my thoughts to his daddy and the fact that maybe I’ve been pushing for too much. It’s only been a few short weeks and I know he’ll be leaving one day soon, but I can’t get him out of my head. I just can’t.

I wish he were here. He left nearly twelve hours ago, and I haven’t heard a thing since earlier in the day. The thought of something bad happening to him is unsettling.

“So what the fuck do you think Cody’s gonna do?” Brandi asks. “That shit last night… Xander calling them idiots in front of everyone. That’s not gonna go over well.” Brandi drunkenly twirls her hair as she reminds me of what I already know.

Cody won’t let this go. And I’m scared shitless what he may do. I’ve seen him hurt a lot of people.

“I don’t know. You’ve known him as long as I have.” I pause, contemplating what could come. “He’s going to get him back. He wanted to last night.”

“I saw him follow you guys out! What stopped him?”

“Deputy Johnson drove by. You know he’s not an idiot when it comes to Cody. I just worry about Xander.”

“How are things with you and hot stuff by the way? I guess we’re kissing in public now, huh?” She laughs, but it’s the nervous kind. She knows as well as I do that no one keeps secrets in small towns.

“Yeah, that was unexpected. Right in the middle of the place too.” I grimace, thinking of all the people I knew in there. At the time I couldn’t care less, but now that I’ve had time to process it, I realize things may get weird around here pretty fast.

“Do you think your parents know already?” she asks, finishing off her glass of wine and refilling both of ours with the rest of the bottle.

“I think it’s entirely possible in this damn town.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. Fuck.” I take a swig of my wine and glance at the clock… 11:00 p.m.

Without warning, the sound of wood violently splintering comes from outside.

Both of us jump at the noise, spilling wine on my bed and ourselves. I put the wine glass down and make my way quickly to the back door. Rowdy and Brandi follow close behind.

When I open the door, I can’t believe my eyes. Xander’s truck is positioned a foot into the guesthouse porch, a few of the two-by-fours splitting around the truck frame.

His truck lights are still on and the door is open wide, but he remains seated. He bobs his head slowly to the music on the radio and he’s completely unaware we’re watching him.

Instantly, my mind goes to my parents. They’re both heavy sleepers and are usually dead asleep by ten—at the latest—but the noise was loud enough that it could have woken them. I’m in a near panic as I think of the implications of this. Xander would certainly be thrown out; there’s not a doubt in my mind. My dad lost his brother to a drunk driver, and he’ll never forget it.

I creep through the house, listening for any movement.
Nothing.
I peek around the corner and down the hall. No lights are on. I hear Caleb’s television, blaring as usual, but there doesn’t seem to be any other commotion.

I go back to the kitchen just as Brandi comes through the backdoor with her hands to her mouth.

“Yuck, yuck, yuck. He just threw up. Like bad.” She goes straight to my room without bothering to turn back around. I return to the back door and see Xander in the same position, but completely passed out now. Rowdy is up on his hind legs and licking his face.

My mind rapidly sifts through possible excuses as I try to figure out what the hell to tell my parents. I come up empty. Real fucking empty. Each lie seems more ridiculous than the last.

After shutting Rowdy inside the guesthouse, I cut the truck’s lights and turn the engine off, sneering at Xander’s passed-out ass as I do. I wake him up just enough to support some of his weight and walk him to his door.

“Hey, I’m okay,” he mumbles, pushing me away a bit. His eyes are just slits and looking at nothing in particular.

“Okay, my fucking ass. You’re far from okay. And I swear to God”—I push him to the bed and he sits hard, looking up at me spitefully when he lands—“tomorrow I’m putting a fucking boot in your ass. I cannot
believe
you’d do something like this. I feel fucking sick.”

He still looks at me, but with little understanding. He lies down and closes his eyes, legs still hanging off the bed.

“I’m tired,” he murmurs, his face planted in the mattress.

“Tomorrow morning your ass is mine.” I turn his lights off, leaving him just as he is and hoping his back and neck pain tomorrow is just as bad as his hangover will be. I leave the guesthouse, anger stirring as I see the mess of vomit I’ll have the pleasure of cleaning up.

It’s five something in the damn morning. Mom will be up around seven and Dad even earlier than that, so now is the time to wake up Xander. There’s a lot to go over. I’ve got a bullshit story even the dumbest person on Earth wouldn’t believe, but I’m rolling with it. I’m praying Dad takes into account that I have never lied to him. Not ever. There has to be some stock in that.

Checking out the damage in daylight relieves me just a little. It isn’t as bad as it appeared around midnight, and with the truck already towed, I see only a few of the two-by-fours are split. Regardless, I’m livid.

I find Xander in just about the same position I left him. He snores and twitches violently in his sleep. I storm up to him, and without regard, I shake him. After a few stiff shakes, his eyes go so wide it seems they may pop out at any moment. He bolts upright, his hands blocking his face.

He drops them slowly and scans the room. His sunken, bloodshot eyes finally meet mine.

“What happened last night?” he asks, almost in a whisper. “I think I know, but can you tell me?”

I stand with both hands on my hips, my foot tapping the floor as if I’m a parent disciplining a child. I don’t care.

“Well, what’s the last fucking thing you remember?” My crassness takes him by surprise. I haven’t cursed around him much, but when I’m angry, all bets are off.

“We went out after lunch. Stayed out awhile. And, uh, I…” He rubs his temples firmly, his eyes closed and head shaking. “I remember heading back here. And…and I guess it’s spotty after that.”

All I can do is shake my head. His carelessness is appalling.

“Can I let you in on something, Xander?”

He nods.

“My uncle was killed by a drunk driver a few years back. He had a wife and two daughters. She lost her husband. They lost their dad. Are you understanding what the fuck I’m trying to say?”

He nods again, his eyes as far away from mine as they’ll go.

“I’m so disappointed in you, Xander. And I don’t mean that in a demeaning, act-like-your-parent kind of way. I mean, you’re someone I truly respect and admire, and I was hoping you were better than this.”

He doesn’t say a word, so I continue.

“Do you remember anything else from last night?” I ask, wondering if he even recalls running his damn truck into the porch. With the way I found him, I highly doubt it.

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