Chapter Thirteen #2
For some reason, I also leave out every fucking detail about Georgia and her addicting freckles and wildfire attitude. The idea of telling them any singular snippet about her twists my gut and makes me irrationally angry.
“Holy shit,” Wilder breathes, throat bobbing.
“That’s... not what I thought you were gonna say.
I figured a condom broke at some point, and a chick accused you of being Daddy.
But your bitch ex writing you into her will?
” He whistles low and tips his head back.
“A baby instead of money is a wild thing to inherit. You win, man. That’s a whole new tier of fuckery. ”
Swallowing hard, I shoot him a look. “You can’t call her that anymore.”
“Why?” he whines. “It’s true.”
“Because we don’t speak ill of the dead. It’s disrespectful.” Griff smacks him on the back of the head and turns to stare at me for a long, tense moment. Finally, he exhales and runs a hand down his beard. “So what’s the plan?”
“Plan?”
“Whatever it is, we’ve got you,” Wilder adds, winking at me. “Don’t think we can stay here though, bud. You don’t even have a couch.”
“I burned it.”
He bobs his head. “Nice. Well, your bed’s too small, so—”
“We’ll find a hotel.” Griffin sighs. “Doesn’t matter. Point is, we’re here, and you’re stuck with us. So, tell us what you need, and it’ll get done.” His expression is somber, steady, and so damn honest it almost hurts. “You’re not alone, Archer.”
My eyes blur, and I have to look away before I embarrass myself by sobbing in front of my friends.
I drop my face into my hands, breathing through the sudden rush of relief.
I feel a hand squeeze my good shoulder, and know it’s Griff.
He offers me silent support to work through my shit, like always.
Even thousands of miles away, my team’s never stopped being there for me.
Makes me realize how shitty of a friend I’ve been, and I make a silent vow to do better.
“Not to interrupt what I’m sure is a much deserved menty-B,” Wilder says, “but when’s the last time you slept?”
I look up just as Griff sniffs the air, nose wrinkling. “Or showered?”
“Fuck off.” I glare at both of them, happy for a mood shift. “I’ve been busy.” I inhale deeply and grimace. “And I showered this morning before the hospital.”
After that, I passed the hell out.
I’d be lying if I said the drives back and forth to Rydell every day weren’t getting to me. But every time I feel sorry for myself, I think of how much Aurora has lost, and the fact that she spends most of her days alone in a hospital room. Sobers me every time.
“Busy spiraling,” Wilder says, deadpan.
I flip him off and take another long sip of water, which does absolutely nothing for my sanity.
“How many more weeks do you have to pull this off?” Griffin asks, flicking through his phone. “Three?”
I jerk a nod and run my fingers through my beard. “Bit less than now.”
“And you have to move, right? You said the judge ordered it?”
“Yeah, I need a new place. I’ve been looking and can’t find a damn thing.
” I must have contacted fifty prospects—apartments, rentals, fuck, I even called a realtor about buying, but it would take a hell of a longer than three weeks.
“It doesn’t help that part of the judge’s orders were that I have to stay in Summit County. ”
Summit County’s big, but a lot of it’s rural. It only covers Wildwood, Heart Springs, Langley—a bigger town about fifteen miles south—and Serenity Falls, way out past the lake. The rest is all unincorporated land.
Anxiety creeps in as my mind spirals.
“I’m also ready to put in my notice with Iron Shield. I’ve got plenty to live off, but I’m not sure a new landlord would take me, freshly unemployed and all.”
“Do it,” Griff says, surprising me.
“The fuck?” Wilder runs a hand through his hair and tugs. “Look, I know we hate working for King Asshole, but we already live in three different states.” He pouts. “If we don’t work together, we’ll never talk.”
“That’s sweet and all…” I start, lip twitching. “But I don’t think I have a choice, man. And I can’t exactly move anywhere else.”
“I know,” he grumbles. “But—”
“But we can,” Griff cuts in.
Wilder’s head snaps toward him, and my eyes go wide.
Griff just shrugs one thick, tattooed shoulder. “What? Neither of us are exactly tied down,” he says, gesturing between himself and Wilder.
I tilt my head, taking his measure. Griffin—thirty-eight, freshly single—is Tennessee through and through.
He loves being close to his siblings, but they’re all married now, busy raising kids of their own.
And from what he shared on the drive over, his mama met some guy last year and spends most of her time traveling.
Other than Iron Shield, he doesn’t have much holding him there.
The idea of my two best friends living near me, especially with the big-ass life changes I’m facing, is...
My breath rushes out, and this time when I smile, I mean it. “Think you’d both like it here. Boring as hell, not much for jobs with the economy the way it is, but... it’s nice.”
Griff bobs his head, eyes distant like he’s really thinking it through.
“Anything’s better than where I’m at now,” he says, flicking a look at Wilder. “And I’d bet the same goes for you too, Reed.”
Wilder’s jaw ticks, and he looks away, staring off into nothing.
He’s the youngest of the three of us—only twenty-five.
Grew up in Southern California, in a rough neighborhood.
The second he turned eighteen, he bolted, getting out from under an alcoholic dad.
He ran as far and fast as he could and wound up in a desert halfway across the world, stationed on base with us.
A year later, we were in a Ranger squad with Griff as our sergeant.
The accident that sent the three of us home also killed the fourth member of our squad, Rubin Drake. He was a damn good Ranger, an even better man. But out of all of us, he was the closest to Wilder.
The fifth member, Billy West, was the new guy—he’d only been with us a month before the IED hit. Rubin didn’t make it, and the rest of us were done for, medically or otherwise. Billy was the only one who walked away unscathed. Last I heard, he made sergeant himself.
It was one of the hardest days of my life. Terrifying, unexpected, and world-shifting. I’ll never be the man I was before that day. None of us will. We all grieve the losses we’ve suffered in the military, but some scars never heal. Rubin’s death is one of them, especially for Wild.
He went straight back to California, partly because he needed somewhere for the hospital to release him, but mostly, I think, to punish himself for not doing more.
It’s something we all feel.
But he hates it there. Hates being near his old man.
Hates the city and the memories that come with it.
Honestly, I think the only thing keeping him sane is Iron Shield.
He takes more jobs away than Griff and I combined, spends all his time traveling, chasing danger, trying to save as many people as he can.
My eyes flick between the two of them, and I catch Griff’s gaze. He’s thinking the same things as me, it’s written all over his face. His jaw twitches, fists clenched, as he watches Wilder disappear before us.
“It’s not a bad idea,” I murmur, surprising myself. “Don’t know where you’ll live—” I break off, a chuckle slipping out as I circle my finger around, gesturing to my apartment. “Actually, rumor has it, a studio’s about to open up.”
Griff barks a laugh, and just like I hoped, it pulls Wilder back in. He grins, tilting his head side to side. “Nah. I’ll shack up with Mrs. W. Griff can take this shithole. He needs the space for all his beard products.”
“Fuck this cockroach motel.” Sarge scoffs, but he’s smiling. “I’ll move in with Kade.”
“Who’s homeless,” I deadpan. “And also, the one who actually needs a new place.”
“But are you?” Griff says. “Way I remember it, you’ve got a house waiting for you, Archer. Paid for, on land in your name.”
My heart stutters, skips, then tries to beat right out of my chest. “No.”
Undeterred, he cocks a brow. “No?”
“I can’t.” I swallow hard and shake my head.
“Why the hell not?” Wilder snaps, sharper than I’ve heard in a long time.
Our eyes meet, and I’m honestly shocked at the anger there.
“You have a home, Kade. A damn good one. A family who loves you—even when you’re a pain in the ass.
They never stopped, no matter how much you try to push them away.
And that house? You built it yourself, with your best friend at your side. ”
“Wild—” I breathe, pulse racing.
He just shakes his head. “Nah, man. Enough’s enough. We all have demons.” He points right at me, voice dropping. “But you’ve got a little girl waiting on you. She has no one else. Get over the ugly in your soul and move forward. Stop punishing yourself for sins you didn’t commit.”
“You’re one to talk,” slips out before I can stop it.
He snorts. “I know. I’m just as fucked up as both of you, and I don’t have room to say shit. But the difference is, I’ve got no one waiting for me to heal. You do.” He looks at Griff. “Both of you do.”
“Not anymore,” Griffin grumbles, rolling his eyes. “That story’s dead and gone. Ain’t coming back.”
“It could,” Wild says softly. “If you wanted it to.”
“I don’t.” Griff’s cheeks flush, eyes a little bleary, but he blinks it away and deflates. “We’re getting off track—and we’re all way too sober for this shit. Fact is, Wild’s right. You’ve got a house ready and waiting, Kade. Stop pussy-footing around, and take it.”
“A dream house,” Wilder emphasizes. “What is it? Four bedrooms?”
“Six.”
His eyes go wide. “ Big dreams then?”
“You know I’ve always wanted a big family.”
“Daddy Kade’s got a breeding kink,” he sing-songs. “Gonna knock some sweet cowgirl up, keep her barefoot and pregnant while he starts his own—” His brows pucker. “What’s the farmer version of a basketball team or band?”
Griff snorts. “A 4-H club.”
Reed nods, clearly cheered up at my expense. “Maybe that’s what you do for work.”
“4-H?” I cock a brow. “Pretty sure that’s volunteer.”
“Nope.” He cackles. “Start a daycare.”
Griffin snaps his fingers, head bobbing. “Stud service.”
“You two are idiots.”
“We’re just giving you shit,” Wilder says, his voice softening. “We know you always wanted a big family like the one you grew up with.”
“Somewhere along the way, those dreams just got lost,” Griffin adds.
My cheeks burn at the honesty, the rawness of it all. “I don’t even know where to start to get them back.”
He knocks his knuckles against mine. “One step at a time, brother. Just like in the Rangers—you face the tough shit one step at a time, and never alone.”
I rake a hand through my hair, my mind spinning.
Could I really do it?
They’re right—the house my dad and I built on Archer land was more than halfway done when I joined the military. I haven’t seen it in years, but with a lot of help, maybe I could pull it off. And if worst comes to worst, there are other houses on the farm.
I just have to get over my demons long enough to face the memories living in them.
Before I can say anything else, a text vibrates my phone across the table. The new social worker's name flashes, and my throat constricts.
Every thought, every emotion, narrows to a single pinpoint of dread.
Ethel Sorrenson: Hey. Sorry I’m not calling, but I’m in a meeting and wanted to update you. I just got word that Aurora’s being released into the custody of the temporary foster family within the hour.
My vision blurs, and it takes everything I have to breathe through the panic clawing at my chest. I knew this was coming—the nurses have been warning me all week.
Aurora’s better now, which is good. But it also means she’ll be with a new family, in a house with a fancy crib and a beautiful room just for her.
Not with me.
My fingers mash at the screen, and I’m surprised by the slight tremble.
Me: Can I still see her?
Ethel Sorrenson: I’m sorry, Mr. Archer, but no. It’s part of the Summit County DCFS rules. Once she’s placed, you won’t be able to see her again until the hearing, assuming it goes in your favor.
I see what she’s not saying. I need to get my shit together and fast.
And just like that, everything crashes in. The walls I’ve built between myself and Honey Bea Farm. The pain I’ve drowned in whiskey and tried to choke down. The ghosts I’ve ignored for too damn long.
None of it matters anymore.
Something bigger than me is at stake. Something more precious and innocent.
Peace, or maybe clarity, settles over me, edged with a new kind of resolve.
The guys are right. I have a place waiting for me. All I have to do is go home and claim it.