Chapter 19
I should have left her be, I could have shouted at her, or sent her out of my room in disgrace.
I should have done anything other than what I actually did.
I’ve been so restrained. I’ve held myself back to the point of choking on my suffering. Now I’m here with the taste of Maisie Wildman’s first ever orgasm on my lips, and more frustration than I can stand, rooted in my soul.
I head straight for Grandpa’s garage, it’s the last place anyone will ever expect to find me. And right now, I need to be alone.
I don’t know when the last time someone came in here was, but I can tell from the dust and cobwebs covering the sheets on his vintage bikes, that it’s been a while.
I look up at the rafter where I found him swinging, when I was nineteen years old, and my stomach rolls. That’s how long it’s been since I came in here, and I’m not afraid to admit it’s because what I saw scared me.
I’ve seen some horrific things, I’ve done ‘em too, but seeing that a man like my grandpa had given up on living was, by far, the worst of ‘em.
He was the strongest man I ever knew, built like a mountain and smart as they make ‘em. There wasn’t a single person in Fork River who didn’t respect him.
Men wanted to wear his brand. They wanted to prove to him that they were worthy of the honor, and they wanted to be a part of the dynasty our family built over the years.
Finding him that day, made me realize that there ain’t no one in this world that’s indestructible.
I thought nothing would ever scare me more than that. Even losing Bree didn’t frighten me; it hurt like hell and made me fucking angry at myself, but not scared.
Yet the girl lying on my bed right now, with all that desire and hope in her eyes, petrifies me.
I want to scream, and I want to run, but I got nowhere to run to.
So instead, I throw my fist at the beam in front of me.
I hit it again and again, until my knuckles split open and my blood stains the wood.
The pain comes, but it ain’t enough. The frustration’s still there, and I have to admit to myself that, for as long as she’s here, it ain’t going away.
I’ve never wanted anything the way I do her. My head can’t understand it, and my body can’t endure it. What I just let happen was bad for both of us. It’s becoming harder and harder to control myself around her, and I know all this only leads to one outcome.
Fucking heartbreak.
There’s no such thing as a perfect life.
It’s impossible to have it all; my grandfather and my pops proved that.
For this family to keep this ranch and regain its respect, it has to be run by someone who has no other commitments.
This ranch has to be the love of your life, someone has to make the sacrifice, and I decided thirteen years ago when I found my grandpa in here, that I’d be the one to make it.
I just didn't realize then, that sacrifice would have to be her.
“Been a long time since anyone’s come in here,” I spin around when the door creaks open and wipe my bloody hand under my nose when I realize it’s Mitch.
“I’m good, just needed some time alone.” I stare down at the mess of my fists and try to breathe myself calm.
“It’s the girl, ain’t it?” he croaks, taking a seat on one of the dried-out hay bales and lifting off his hat,
“Yeah, it’s her.” I figure it’s pointless lying to him, the man practically raised me, and he knows me better than my own brothers.
“She likes you, too, and she sure is pretty. I reckon you could convince her to stay.” He dangles his hands between his knees and talks as if that’s the fucking problem, here.
“That’s the last thing I wanna do.” I let out a bitter laugh, as I pace the ground in front of him and try to get my head straight. “She needs to leave and go to college, and the further she can get from here the better.”
“Do you mean the further she gets from here, or from you?” he questions, and when I stop pacing and stare him down, I can’t deny that a part of that’s true.
“You’ve been here long enough, Mitch. You’ve watched every Carson man in the last decade, who’s tried to run this ranch, fail. We can’t have it all.”
“Now, who says that?” He’s sniggering at me now, the way he always does when he’s gonna say something clever.
“History says it, Mitch. Grandma left Grandpa. Mom left Pops. She’d leave me. When she’s back in L.A., things can just go back to how they were before. We stick to the plan.”
Mitch laughs at me, and my eyes scold him with malice because I need to fucking know what he finds so amusing.
“What’s funny?” I ask.
“You actin’ like that ain’t gonna hurt,” he chuckles.
“I never said it wasn’t gonna hurt, but I’m countin’ on the hope that not having to see her every day makes my life a lot easier, than it is now.”
“And who says she has to leave?”
“You going senile? Did you not hear what I just said?”
“What I heard was bullshit. What I heard was you, comparing yourself to two other men. Yeah, your grandpa loved your grandma, and he lost her. He lost her because he fucked it up. Your father loved your mom, and we don’t know what the hell went wrong with that, but knowing him, he probably fucked that up the way he did this place.
What you’re forgetting, Garrett, is that neither of those men are you .
You see the real value in things, and you see the value in people. ”
He pulls open his shirt and shows the ‘CR’ that’s branded on his chest.
“You think I still wear this for him?” His eyes shoot up to the rafter, where Grandpa hung himself.
“You think I stick around for a man who’s dead?” he questions.
“I’m here for you . I believe in you . Don’t be held back by history, son. Get out there and write your own.” He stands up and buttons his shirt back up, then without waiting for a response, places his hat back on his head and heads out the door.