Chapter 2
Tobias
“I KNOW. I know. You’ve gotta pee.” I stumble out of my bedroom and down the steps, trying not to bust my ass as Copper races down in front of me. She reaches the first floor of the house we share and dances in circles, like I need reminding she’s got business to take care of outside.
And if I don’t get her there fast enough, she has no problem filing her paperwork on the rug.
Scrubbing at my burning eyes I follow behind the toy poodle who treats me like her servant as she races for the back door, claws scrambling against the hardwood.
I whip it open as soon as we reach it, not wanting her to suffer any longer for my own actions.
We should have gotten out of bed way before now, but I stayed up too late working on the armored car prototype currently occupying my garage.
Then possibly had a little too much whiskey, hoping it would help me sleep. I guess I was right, but at the cost of my throbbing head.
And possibly Copper’s bladder.
Because the second the door is open, Copper races out like she’s on fire. Cold air whips against my bare skin, bringing along rain so cold it feels like ice, making me suck in a sharp breath.
“Fucking hell.” I keep my eyes on where my dog is currently squatted at the base of the stairs leading to the deck, as I reach for the blanket draped over the back of my sofa.
It’s cold as hell standing here with the door open, but I can’t leave Copper on her own.
There’s too many animals roaming around the mountains in search of an easy meal.
And while I know her well enough to assume she probably tastes like piss and vinegar, anything else will see her as the tasty morsel they’ve been hunting for.
I do my best to wrap up in the fuzzy covering as Copper wanders around sniffing, in search of the perfect spot to make a deposit.
The blanket is soft and hides a decent amount of my mostly naked form, but the air cuts right through the fibers, making it way less effective at keeping me warm than the flannel shirt and jeans I wish I’d pulled on before coming down.
Really wish I’d pulled on, because before instead of squatting to take a dump, my damn dog takes off like a bat out of hell, racing out of sight.
And I can’t let her out of my sight. Copper is tiny and not made for the wilderness. She might be a hellion, but she’s also depressingly important to me. The only link I have to the happiest time of my life.
Also the biggest mistake I ever made, but I try not to dwell on that part. Usually unsuccessfully.
“Goddammit, Copper.” Like the eternal dumbass I am, I run out into the pelting rain wearing nothing but boxer briefs and the fluffy blanket, cussing my head off as my feet skid across the slick deck.
The skin of my soles burns from the cold as I hop down the steps and across the grass, chasing after the dog who’s done her damnedest to make me suffer for my sins.
For the shortsightedness that led to both of us being left behind.
Not that Copper’s abandonment was complete. I could have let her go, but then where would that leave me?
Totally fucking alone. And I think that might have sent me off the deep end. Especially since the woman who could have been here with me and Copper—if I wasn’t a total jackass—is out in California living her best life with some prick who owns a winery and drives a stock Mercedes.
How fucking cliche.
I barely catch a glimpse of Copper’s fuzzy ass as I round the back corner of my house. “I swear to God, Copper. I’m throwing away every one of your fuck pillows if you don’t get your ass back here right now.”
I must be moving too fast for the current yard conditions, because when I try to make the next turn, my feet start to slide, forcing me to fling both arms out in an attempt to keep my balance.
My flailing causes me to let go of the blanket serving as my only protection against the elements and the wind rips it away, leaving me standing barefoot in my underwear, soaked from head to toe.
Watching my ex-girlfriend’s horny poodle hump one of the ornamental rocks stationed around the flower beds flanking my front porch.
“You’re no better than your Uncle Tucker.” I stomp over to collect the heathen who shares my bed, holding her wet, furry body at arm’s length as I carry her inside to dry her off.
And give her a treat because who am I kidding? I’m as much her bitch as that damn rock.
I’ve only got her half-wiped down before someone starts banging on my door, making me wince as one hand flies to my temple.
“Fuck me.” Each hit resonates inside my skull, as I skid to the entryway on my still-wet feet.
The number of people who would be here is limited, so I’m not worried about my current state as I fling open the door, primarily focused on making sure they don’t fucking knock again.
I stare out at my mother, dumbfounded because she looks even worse than I do. “What the hell happened to you?”
My mother is always perfectly put together. Her hair, her clothes, her makeup. Even her muck boots are always pristine. She’s built an empire on making perfection look easy and attainable.
If only her adoring fans could see her now. Mud is splattered on her face. Her blonde hair is stringy and wet from the rain. And the normally sparkling smile she sports nearly twenty-four-seven has been replaced by a deep frown.
Or maybe that’s a scowl.
“What the hell happened to me?” She waves both hands in my general direction. “What the hell happened to you?”
That is a long fucking story. One she knows well, and I don’t really feel like rehashing it right now.
So I decide to keep my answer pretty general. “I was up late last night installing a new type of bulletproof windshield in one of our test cars.” It didn’t technically need to be done last night, but what the fuck else do I have to do? Sit around my house like a fucking lump?
No fucking thanks. My liver’s barely hanging on as it is. Any more time staring at the walls would likely do it in.
My mother’s brows slowly climb her forehead as she stares at me like I’ve just said the dumbest thing she’s ever heard.
“What?” I don’t know why she’s shocked. All I do is work. Hearing I worked late last night shouldn’t come as a surprise.
But it clearly is, because the shocked expression on my mother’s face only gets worse. “Do you not remember what today is?”
It takes my brain a second to catch up. A second for everything to fall in line.
“Oh shit.” If this was a normal day, I would have been at work right now. Maybe wouldn’t have had as much to drink last night.
Possibly.
“Yeah, oh shit.” My mother shakes her head, like I’m the biggest disappointment in her life, which might actually be the case.
“You were supposed to be at my house over an hour ago, and instead you’re here.
” She waves one gloved hand at my underwear clad form.
“Doing God only knows what.” Her eyes narrow. “Or God only knows who.”
That’s a little offensive. I’m not chasing down every piece of ass I can get like Tucker. I’m not interested in just any piece of ass and she knows that. Possibly better than anyone.
“I was fucking sleeping.” I rake a hand through my overgrown hair as I turn away. “I had a rough night.”
“And it’s your own fault.” My mother follows me into the house, not even bothering to take off her muddy boots—a pretty good indication of how pissed she is at me.
“You had a rough night because you drank too much and now you’re hung over.
” When I stop and face her, she looks me over, nose wrinkling. “I can still smell it on you.”
I vaguely remember missing my mouth at one point last night, and bring a hand up to rub across the patch of my chest that caught the spill. My skin is sticky and the hair growing out of it is a little stiffer than normal. So I’d say it’s highly likely I do smell exactly like whiskey.
And guilt. Not sure which one stinks worse.
“I’ll take a shower and get ready.” I feel bad. I love my mom. She busted her ass to build a great life for all of us. Showed me how important it is to work hard. What it’s like to be loved unconditionally.
She would do anything for me and my brothers.
And I made her think I can’t even fucking wake up before one in the afternoon on Thanksgiving Day for her.
Guess I’m an even bigger piece of shit than I realized.
“It’s too late now. That ship has sailed.” My mom props both hands on her hips as she focuses on me in a weirdly intense way. “But you should still take a shower. It’s time to start getting your shit together.”
I huff out a bitter laugh. “Yeah. I’ll get right on that.”
I don’t know if there is any getting my shit together. Like she said, that ship has sailed.
Straight to California. It’s gone. Someone smarter than me docked it and locked it down.
A slow smile works on my mother’s face. “I have faith in you.” She crouches down, giving Copper a little pat. “I’m sure you can figure it all out.”
I watch her walk back out my front door into the rain where her UTV is waiting with Gunnar in the passenger’s seat, looking a little bedraggled himself. I wave as she pulls away, the guilt in my gut gnawing harder.
The woman has way more faith in me than I do.
Because I’m not sure I can figure this out. I’ve tried for the better part of the decade and always end up circling back to the same place.
An empty house and a lonely life.