The Rowdy Ones (The Wild, #5)

Chapter One

I feel like I’m escaping a prison.

The bars enclosing me in are those of my mother. Tight, unbreakable, admittedly safe. Tension and anxiety claw at me as I consider what it’ll mean leaving them of my own accord.

No hovering.

No treating me like a little girl.

No walking around on tiptoes around me.

I’ll be in a different world to me and on my own. Well, not completely alone.

“The second you feel uncomfortable,” Mom whispers against my hair, hot tears soaking my scalp, “you have them take you and Rowdy back home. Promise me, Dez.”

I nod and keep my voice even despite the emotion clogging my throat. “I promise, Mom.”

The cold winter wind whips at us, threatening with more snow coming our way, but we remain steadfast and unmoving.

Despite the chill, her warmth surrounds and protects me.

She strokes my back and whispers more comforting assurances, her forever peachy scent enveloping me.

How easy it would be to change my mind, choose to stay home instead. Maybe things will get better.

Or they could get worse.

I could actually succeed if it comes to that again.

The throbbing regret in my gut is more nagging than the gnawing pain in my wrist. Taking Dad’s razor to my flesh felt like the out I ached for and needed. Life was too much. Dark and full of despair. It wasn’t until I’d dug the sharp blade through my tender flesh that I realized my mistake.

I didn’t mean to.

Okay, so I meant to.

I just didn’t think it through before I did it. Thankfully, I was almost immediately found and my family did what they always do. They took care of it.

And now I’m going away to live with Uncle Atticus and Aunt Eve. They’re not really my aunt and uncle, but we all pretend anyway.

“Devon,” Dad rumbles from behind us. “They’re ready to go.”

As if there’s a threat in his voice to rip me away from her, the vise around me tightens.

Mom’s sobs intensify. I’m no longer able to hold back my tears.

I cry quietly, hating that I’m the reason she’s so upset.

My pain and suffering were supposed to be mine only.

I never meant to share them with everyone in my entire family.

It makes me feel like a cruel monster, lashing unnecessary whips of heartache against the backs of the ones I love most.

This is why I have to go.

I need a fresh start.

Mom releases me only when Dad physically wrenches us apart. I stagger backward, needing the space between us, only to bump into a firm body. As soon as a whiff of smoke and pine infiltrates my senses, I know it’s my brother Rowdy.

Strange how I can tell everyone apart on scent alone. I suppose being nearly blind will hone those other four senses.

“Ready?” he asks, steadying me by holding on to my shoulders gently.

I nod jerkily and allow him to lead me away from my mother, who’s turned hysterical. Rowdy’s massive palm settles on the middle of my back and he guides me to Wild’s truck. It’s unusually hot and warms my cold, numb back.

“Want to sit up front with Wild?”

“No,” I rush out.

Wild scoffs, feigning offense. “I don’t stink that bad, little Dezzy.”

I force out a small laugh, but he’s not telling the truth.

Wild smells strong. He wears cologne and I hate it.

Once, he brought my brothers each a bottle of what he wears.

I convinced Kota to steal it from them and bury the haul in the yard.

They were pissed, but at least I didn’t have to deal with it for however long a bottle would last.

Rowdy opens the door behind the passenger side for me.

I let out a squeak of surprise when he grabs my waist and hoists me up into the tall truck without warning.

He slides on my seat belt for me, making me feel like a child.

Heat burns my cheeks, but I bite my tongue.

I’m done causing problems for my family.

Making a fuss will only stress him out more.

I reach until I find my backpack sitting in the center of the bench seat and rummage through it for my blanket.

Within minutes, we’re rolling away from our homestead and on our way to society and people.

Wild, from the driver’s side of his truck, thrums the steering wheel and sings along to songs I’ve never heard before.

I’m thankful for the distraction. It means Rowdy won’t be able to silently worry over me.

Wild keeps engaging him in conversation about “how fucking awesome it is” that they can hang out.

I lean my head against the cool window and rub my fuzzy blanket between my thumb and fingers on my uninjured side. Without Rowdy’s wolf, Spirit, I don’t have the usual comfort she brings. The blanket soothes me, though, and takes my mind off the painful stuff brewing inside me.

Another pang of guilt ripples through me. Rowdy is here, away from his beloved pet, to look after me. In a way, I’m grateful to have my brother’s shadow looming over me. I’m also unsure if I even want that. What’s a prison escape if the warden comes with you?

Ugh.

He’s not your warden, Dez. You’re being dramatic.

In my family, the drama belongs mainly to Raegan and Kota. They are loud, mean, and constantly picking at everyone, but mostly each other. I’ve learned to keep my drama to internal ramblings. No need to burden my parents with more chaos.

And yet you went beyond self-harm. You tried to end it all.

Hot tears sting my eyes and I quickly blink them away.

In the back seat, neither Wild or Rowdy can see me if I cry, but I know my brother will sense it.

He worries to the point of smothering me with it.

I’d rather sit quietly—aside from Wild’s off-key singing—and not be grilled about how I’m feeling.

“Just stick with me,” Wild says over the music to Rowdy. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you.”

He.

A sudden pang of sickness curdles my gut. Rowdy, because of me, will be forced to face his demon, Evan. Wild’s cousin isn’t an actual demon, but he’s not a good person either. He was responsible for leading Rowdy down an awfully dark path. It nearly killed my brother.

And he’ll be around him again soon.

What if Evan gets inside Rowdy’s head? Will my brother get hooked on drugs again? This time, will it actually take his life?

“I don’t feel so well,” I blurt out, clutching my stomach.

Wild grunts from up front. “Car sickness. Get her a Dramamine pill from the glovebox. There’s a barf bag in there too.”

My mouth waters in that uncomfortable way like when you’re about to be sick.

Rowdy thrusts something plastic and crinkly at me.

I grab it from his calloused hand and feel around it.

It’s indeed a bag hooked on a plastic ring.

I lean my forehead against the back of Rowdy’s seat and bring the bag to my lips.

I gag a few times but luckily don’t throw up.

The window slides down a bit and icy cold air swirls inside the truck.

Not only does it chase away Wild’s godawful cologne, it also cools off my overheating body.

It does wonders for the nausea. When it finally passes, I shakily reach a hand toward the front seat.

Rowdy places a pill in my palm and curls my fingers to close my fist so I don’t lose it.

I choke it down. Then he hands me a water bottle to wash away the acrid taste.

“Try to sleep,” Rowdy instructs. “It’ll be hours before we get there.”

Easier said than done.

My mind continually obsesses over everything. Mostly, I’m overwhelmed by stealing my family’s joy, by the chaotic pain that weighs me down. Sleeping isn’t something I do easily. And when I finally do, it’s rigged with explosive nightmares that threaten to end me.

When I dream, it’s the only time I see.

I find it strangely fascinating that when I’m dreaming, I see my mom and dad clearly, from a young child’s point of view.

Though not in color, I see details like the defined curves of each blackberry in a bowl or the wiry hairs of my dad’s beard.

My memories of a time before my vision deteriorated so badly are crisp and wonderful.

It’s my imagination that’s cruel.

Somehow, instead of giving me wonderful dreams of good times, it takes the clear details but fills them in with the monsters. Even though I couldn’t see the details of those people who took and hurt us, they become sharp and terrifying in my nightmares.

Who would willingly want to walk into such a traumatic dreamland?

The bumping of the truck is no longer making me sick to my stomach. Surprisingly, it’s relaxing me. My eyelids droop and I slouch in my seat.

“Does that pill make you sleepy?” I murmur, interrupting Wild’s animated story.

Wild snorts with laughter. “Hell yeah. The twins get carsick, and Mom gives them that shit. Knocks them out every time. Peace and fucking quiet for a few hours.”

I bristle at the thought of being given a pill to make me sleep as though I’m an unruly child. But I’m too tired to argue with him. For once, I give in to the exhaustion, hoping and praying I don’t slip into a nightmare.

I’m not sure how long I sleep, but I wake with a jolt. My cheeks are streaked with tears. Did I cry out in my sleep? With how fast my heart is racing and how quiet the guys are, something tells me I did.

That’s not humiliating or anything.

“Almost there,” Wild says, voice tight. “Mom is going to be so happy to see you.”

My chest tightens. At least I’ll have Aunt Eve. Leaving my mother was hard, but Eve is protective and fierce. If I struggle, I know she’ll step in like my mom would. It’s a small comfort I’m grateful for.

I’ve been to town once before, as a young girl, but I don’t remember much. We went to get my eyes checked for glasses like Ronan got, but apparently, my eyes couldn’t be corrected with them. All I know is Mom was upset, but Dad made it all better with ice cream.

It’s weird to think I’ll be able to have ice cream now whenever I want. We usually have to wait until Wild or his family bring some back in their RV. And because my family is huge and love their sweets, it never lasts long.

“It’s going to be okay,” Wild mutters to Rowdy. “I can tell you’re tense as fuck over there. Relax, man.”

The guilt clouds around me once more, suffocating me worse than Wild’s cologne ever could. With each passing mile, Rowdy is inching closer to a place I’m sure he never hoped to ever return to. I wish he’d just stayed back with our family.

But then you’d feel all alone.

I’m close with all of my siblings, but there’s a different sort of bond I have with Rowdy. He was my safe space when I needed it most. It was him who rescued me from those terrible people and carried me to safety. In a way, I feel like I owe him a debt I’ll never be able to return.

Maybe one day I can help him instead.

Maybe that day is coming in quicker than I ever thought it would.

“Home sweet home,” Wild announces, hands pattering the steering wheel. “I bet Mom cooked something good for dinner. I’m starving.”

The vehicle slows to a stop and then he shuts it off. I fumble for the door handle, but someone opens it before I get the chance. A large, calloused hand takes mine and squeezes it gently. Rowdy.

“Ready?”

Nope. Not even a little bit.

But I nod anyway.

Here’s to a new beginning.