Chapter 13
Thirteen
Storm
The taste of bubblegum ice cream lingers on my tongue as I walk up the driveway to my childhood home.
And God, there’s still so much shit that’s fucked up in my life.
But tonight was nice.
No. It was great.
Holly is awesome.
I know it’s because of Poppy, but I also know it’s because of Cedar Hollow.
So yeah, the gossip is annoying and I hate that I could feel stares on me again as I left Sully’s and walked down Main Street, as I turned right and made my way past the Pioneer Museum on Eagle Place, as I then made a left and walked down to the end of Second Street.
Until the Harrison House came into view.
Until I walked up the cracked driveway, finally shielded from those curious stares by the overgrown trees on either side.
The itching between my shoulder blades disappears and I take my first full breath of the last ten minutes.
At least until I open the door and—
Walk straight into chaos.
In the form of an inch of water on the floor and my brother cursing as he runs toward me, a pair of wrenches in his hand.
“What the fuck—?”
But I don’t get to finish the question because I’m jumping out of the way as he rushes out the open door.
“Shit,” I mutter, spinning to go after him and nearly going down on the slippery floorboards.
I right myself, turn to follow my brother, the water already soaking through my shoes and socks, and find Rain nearly at the street, kneeling on the sidewalk. A concrete lid sits to the side of him, and he’s reaching into a hole.
And he’s doing that still cursing.
“Jesus fucking Christ! Motherfucking piece of shit!” He grunts, struggling with something. Then his head flies up, eyes locking with mine. “Come help me already, asshole!”
I glare at him, but I take myself and my wet ass shoes back down the driveway. “What do you want me to do?”
“Grab that wrench.” He grunts again, repositions the other one. “Hold it still.”
I reach in, keep the wrench steady.
He curses again, body straining, and just as I’m about to tell him to let me do it already, his wrench starts turning and I hear a whoosh as the water turns off.
Another curse as he sits back, scrubbing his hands over his face.
And that’s when I process he’s just in a towel.
At least the nosy gazes are likely on him instead of me for a change.
“Why are you almost naked?” I mutter, pulling out the wrench he commanded me to hold, and tossing it beside the other.
“Was in the shower when the pressure disappeared.” He exhales and stands. “Realized the pipe blew about two seconds later. Got the wrenches and considering the amount of water already on the floor, I didn’t exactly have time to find pants.”
I snort.
Then again when he straightens and smirks, waving as he calls out, “Hey, Clover!”
I watch, even in the waning evening sunshine as our shy (but still nosy) neighbor’s cheeks go pink. But to her credit, she waves and calls back, “Hey, Rain.”
“Who’s with you?” my brother shouts, lifting a hand and pointing at the woman sitting next to Clover.
My brows fly up. Who’s the nosy one now?
And also, how doesn’t Rain know who she is?
Doesn’t everyone in Cedar Hollow know everyone and everything about said everyone?
Maybe more’s changed than I realized.
“I’m Riley,” the woman calls before Clover can reply. “Clover’s cousin. I just moved to town to work at the inn.” Then she adds, “So when are you going to trim back those cedars so they stop dropping needles into Clover’s gutters?”
Rain looks at me.
I shrug. As far as I’m concerned, we can chop them all the way down and turn them into firewood…along with the rest of this place.
Rain sighs. Looks back over at the women. “I’ll take care of getting the trees trimmed.”
A pause, the women exchanging a glance before Riley calls, “And the gutters? They’re a fire hazard loaded up with all those needles.”
Rain looks at me again.
And I just shrug again.
I’d pay for it, I guess, but I’m definitely not hauling my ass up on a ladder to clear out someone’s gutters.
Not for a house I don’t want any fucking part of.
Rain sighs again. Then, “I’ll take care of it.”
The women exchange another glance.
“And when exactly will that be?” Riley asks.
Rain grits his teeth together, rolls his eyes heavenward. “By the weekend.”
The girls look at each other, as though deliberating.
Then Clover calls, “That would be great. Thanks, Rain.”
My brother just grunts and starts for the house.
“I like the outfit, by the way,” Riley calls.
Rain’s shoulders tense, but I’m smirking as I follow him into the house. Serves the stubborn bastard right.
If he just burned this place to the ground, all of our problems would be solved.
“Still want to keep the house?” I drawl as I trail him.
He stops on the threshold, glares back over his shoulder at me. “Like I told you at the reading”—which was a whole other brand of fucked-up, thanks Dad—“you don’t have to deal with it. But I’m not selling this place.”
“Then I’ll buy you out.”
“I won’t accept.”
And, just like that, my anger is back.
With Poppy and Holly, I could pretend—
Well, I could pretend this version of me didn’t exist with them.
Or shove it down enough that it stayed buried for a little while.
But five minutes on Harrison property and I want to punch something, want to shout and break shit and hurt people.
“You’re an asshole, you know that?” I grit out.
A shrug. “Takes one to know one.”
I whip toward him, hands lifting, but he just raises his brows and watches me, as though he can see my internal struggle to stop myself from throttling him.
Pain shoots through my jaw, but I resist the urge to punch my asshole of a brother, and march through the entryway, sending water splashing in all directions but not giving a fuck.
He wants to keep the house, he can fucking clean it up.
I grab a beer from the fridge, push out onto the back deck, drinking deeply as I try to think.
But it’s fucking hard with this place pushing in on me from all sides.
The memories.
The cursing and shouting.
The neighbors.
I shove my hands into my pocket, feel a crinkle, and—
“Jesus,” I mutter, pulling out the hundred-dollar bill I gave Poppy the other night.
Stubborn fucking woman.
“Looks like you need this.”
I don’t bother answering. Not that Rain gives a fuck. He completely ignores my ignoring and comes out onto the porch, leans against the railing beside me.
At least he holds out another beer.
I hadn’t even realized I finished mine.
He’s dressed now and has presumably spent the last however long I’ve been out here on the rickety deck—long enough for the sun to fully set and dusk to settle around me—cleaning up the water inside.
But I don’t ask.
Because I don’t care.
I don’t.
So why do I feel like the asshole for not helping?
He sighs, says quietly, “I figured with everything, you’d want to have a home base here.”
I frown. “What are you talking about?”
“With Poppy here,” he murmurs. “And Holly.”
My lungs seize. What the actual fuck? I drop the bottle on the railing with a thunk. “You knew?” I growl. “Are you telling me you fucking knew?”
He knew and he let me stay away?
He knew and he didn’t tell me?
He knew—
“I only came back last year,” he says quietly. “When Dad had the fall.”
A fall I didn’t—don’t—know about.
A fall I don’t give a fuck about.
I don’t.
“When did you find out?” I grit out.
“About Dad?”
“Fuck Dad,” I snap. “When did you find out about Holly?”
He opens his beer, tosses the bottle cap into the darkened yard, and takes a long sip, exhaling heavily. “About two days after I came home.” He looks at me again. “Mostly because this is Cedar Hollow.”
And everyone knows everything about every fucking one.
Christ.
“Who told you?”
He shrugs. “Fuck if I know. I heard a whisper—or a dozen of them, more accurately. Then I asked Poppy.” Another shrug. “It’s not a surprise, you know. Those eyes. The timing of it all.”
“Why didn’t—?” I cut myself off.
Why didn’t he tell me?
Because I wasn’t here.
Because I wouldn’t have talked to him even if he’d tried.
Because I’m a Harrison and assholery runs in my genes.
Rain smirks. “Yeah,” he mutters, “I see that you’re finally putting the pieces together.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you right back.”
I scowl at him, at the sky, at the back yard.
At the trees and the tire swing Rain and I cobbled together one summer.
It’s still hanging from one of the branches, looking significantly worse for wear.
But still there.
Same as the old rusty shed is taking up one corner of the yard and the makeshift hockey net is in the other.
God, I’d spent so many hours out here.
Practicing my shot until I could hit any spot I wanted.
But really, hiding from the shit happening inside.
“What are you going to do about Holly?” he asks.
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Are you going to stick around?” His jaw is hard, a muscle flickering in his cheek. “Or are you going to leave them again?”
My chest goes tight.
Because coming back to Cedar Hollow—and doing it in a more permanent way—is the last fucking thing I want.
But—
“What the fuck do you think?” I growl.
His eyes—different from mine in color, but I hear Poppy’s voice in my head when I see the anger lurking, the pain and rage of the past hidden in their deep blue depths—lock with mine.
“I think it means you need a place to stay.”
He finishes off his beer, pushes away from the railing.
“And that means you might as well help me repair that water line.”