Chapter Four
He smelled the same. That was always the thought that owned Sterling the most every time he touched Buck.
His sexy scent lived in Sterling’s heart and brought out every ounce of nostalgia when he smelled it.
Every day, Sterling just sank deeper into confused despair.
He didn’t understand anything anymore. All he had ever known was he loved Buck with every breath he took.
Sterling didn’t know how to let it go even as he recognized their toxic love was killing him.
He paced his house. Why had he thought coming home would soothe him?
Mostly, he had thought he would feel safe here, if not welcomed.
Sterling didn’t feel safe anymore anywhere.
Every noise made him jump. He couldn’t sleep.
Images rolled through his mind that made his stomach churn.
Being here wasn’t helping anything. All he saw were the days his family pretended he didn’t exist. Tip had built him this house on the ranch to give him a place to escape their mom.
But then he had gone right back to his life as this huge soccer player, traveling all over the place.
Sterling had lost himself in his horses and Buck back then.
Now neither of those things belonged to him anymore.
Truth be told, they hadn’t been his back then either.
Sterling stopped in the center of his living room.
The moonlight coming through the windows cast enough light to illuminate the room.
Everything looked cold and unwelcoming. Nothing and nowhere felt like home.
Anger, bitterness, hatred, and fury pulsed inside him, getting bigger by the second.
The way Buck had whispered his love and walked away again kept playing through his mind.
He didn’t know what was wrong with him. Sterling didn’t understand why everyone got their kicks from his pain.
He didn’t want this life. Sterling hadn’t asked for it.
His existence was a huge joke, and the laugh was at his expense.
Without thinking or gathering a plan, Sterling yanked open the coat closet and grabbed a bat from his ball bag.
This time, he paced the house, searching.
He had to cut this thing from his soul that made him so fucking easy to walk on.
He didn’t want to be weak. Sterling didn’t want to live at all anymore.
That revelation sent the helpless rage overboard.
Sterling swung, destroying every trophy he had ever won.
His eyes darted in every direction. What else?
He needed to crush anything and everything that had allowed him to lie to himself.
To pretend he could be special. He was too far gone to think clearly.
Sterling was stuck on self-destruct. He smashed everything, breaking everything until it looked the way he felt.
He caught a quick glimpse of himself in the mirror.
Fuck that. He hated that guy. Glass flew in his face and cut through his skin as his bat smashed into the mirror over and over again, doing nothing to squelch the rage and pain.
Sterling had no idea how long his tirade lasted.
In the end, he was left standing in the center of a home that finally matched him on the inside.
Tears mixed with blood to trail down his face.
He deflated. Sterling was left with nothing but the truth.
He was done. Sterling had officially tried every lifeline to save himself, but the answer was clear now.
He shouldn’t have been born. His existence was unnatural.
Sterling was too weary to go on. He touched his lips.
Buck had kissed him goodbye. It was time to go.
Buck kept one eye out, hoping to spot a flash of strawberry-blond hair.
He ached to look into Sterling’s light green eyes again.
Maybe Buck would never get to touch Sterling again, but the thought of not getting to see him was a weight sitting on his chest. A movement at the edge of his vision had Buck’s head whipping toward the barn door.
Tip strolled inside with his forehead furrowed.
Buck couldn’t decide if the guy was angry or worried.
Either way, Buck had a bad feeling he should make himself scarce.
Tip was Sterling’s big brother. Maybe Sterling had finally taken their issues to him.
That was his right. Unfortunately, this was Buck’s job and home.
Buck almost took a step back when Tip’s long stride brought him Buck’s way. “Have you seen Sterling?”
Oh, no. Buck swiped his sweaty palms on his thighs. “No. Why?”
Tip shook his head. “He was supposed to meet me for breakfast over an hour ago. I’ve tried calling and texting, but he’s ignoring me.”
Fuck. Without a single thought or care for how he looked, Buck darted from the barn.
Tip was right on his heels. “What the fuck, Buck?”
Buck motioned toward the closest farm truck. “Get in.”
His mind raced as Tip barely made it inside the vehicle before Buck was off.
“Seriously, Buck. What’s wrong?”
Buck tried to explain through the panic that choked him.
“He hasn’t been right since he came home.
I thought it was maybe just me. Last night, I overheard him saying he might not return to Miami.
He refused to give a reason. But there was something in his voice.
” Buck shook his head. “I don’t know. He’s just…
not who he used to be,” Buck finished lamely.
He was too panicked to think clearly enough to explain.
“He doesn’t plan to return to—”
Tip’s words died an abrupt death and Buck’s heart dropped to his shoes when Sterling’s front door came into view. The screen door stood wide open, blowing slightly back and forth with the wind. The front door stood just as wide.
Buck barely had the truck in park before he leaped from the vehicle.
He hit the ground running at full speed.
His feet froze so abruptly when he reached the door, he almost fell on his face.
The place looked like a tornado had ripped through.
A baseball bat sat in the center of the destruction.
It might not have stood out if it wasn’t covered in blood.
“Holy shit.”
Since Buck’s throat was nearly swollen shut, he let Tip’s outburst speak for him as well.
Tip rushed through the house and darted from room to room before returning to the living room. “He’s not here, but every single room is trashed. There’s more blood in the bedroom.”
They met and held each other’s stare. Buck knew they were on the same page. Sterling had finally let the demons win.
Tip broke first. He whipped out his phone. “Call everyone. Let’s spread out and search the property.”
Buck nodded along. “You call the police. I’ll try his phone and pray he’ll answer me.”
They gave each other a sharp nod.
Tip stepped outside while Buck dug out his phone. He paced while he pulled up Sterling’s number. “Please don’t be dead. Please fucking answer.” Buck repeated the chant as he hit the call icon.
A ringing sounded in the distance. Buck followed the sound to Sterling’s bedroom.
There was a hell of a lot more blood than Tip had let on.
In the middle of Sterling’s obliterated trophies, Sterling’s phone rang and vibrated across the floor.
Buck went down on his haunches and scooped it from the mess.
The screen was heavily shattered, and Buck’s name flashed through the cracks.
Actually, it said, My Love. Buck disconnected the call.
Sterling’s phone stopped ringing. He sniffed.
The shock slowly melted, and reality struck.
Sterling had really done it. He had gone to the only place Buck couldn’t follow.
Maybe Buck wouldn’t last much longer either.