Chapter 15
Fifteen
Storm
“Higher,” Rain orders.
I grunt and heft the beam higher.
“Higher,” Rain says.
My arms are burning—and fuck, even my trainer at the Hawks isn’t this cruel. I shove the heavy ass chunk of wood up another inch and his drill starts whirring.
Thankfully it’s not too much longer before he tells me I can let go.
I step down from the ladder, roll my aching shoulders, and look around the space.
Objectively, it looks worse.
A whole fucking lot worse.
In just a matter of a day, most of the drywall has been pulled off the walls.
The floor is torn up. The kitchen is demolished, and we’re surviving with only a fridge and microwave in the garage.
Which means we’ll be surviving by grilling meat and drinking beer and eating at the diner and Molly’s Bakery for the foreseeable future.
At least I’m getting my meal plan’s protein in.
But I will definitely need some variety.
Or something green.
Maybe I’ll get a salad at Molly’s this afternoon.
Except…the muffins.
How can I possibly choose a salad over those peaches and cream muffins? Or their rosemary and cheddar topped focaccia?
Or their apple and brie grilled cheese with fig jam and homemade kettle chips?
My stomach rumbles and I look, see that it’s well past lunch.
We’ve been so focused on destruction—ha, if that isn’t a Harrison Classic through and through—that we haven’t paid attention to the time.
“I need to eat.”
“Got some steaks in the fridge I can grill up,” Rain says.
The only thing that’s new on this entire fucking property is the grill.
And perfectly fucking clean.
But—
“I think my arteries need a break from red meat.”
Aside from the pasta I made with Holly the other day, I feel like it’s all I’ve eaten since I came back to Cedar Hollow.
He shrugs. “The diner then?”
“The diner doesn’t exactly scream good for my heart health, man. I’ve got to play hockey in a couple of months. I need to eat something that’s not made of butter.”
Another shrug. “Butter’s delicious.” His lips twitch as he sets the drill down then brushes his hands on his jeans. “But Molly’s it is.” That twitch grows into a full-blown smirk. “You can get something green and with plenty of fiber. And I can get my fill of butter.”
“And your premature heart attack.”
“Nah, Harrisons grow old mostly just to be ornery. I’m no different.”
I snort. “We’re going to Molly’s. And we’re getting salads,” I say, mostly just to be ornery myself.
Of course, with all that orneriness, I’ve now somehow invited my brother to lunch with me.
Fuck.
Not that me telling him to fuck off and leave me alone would have kept him away from Molly’s in the first place.
He’d just let me stomp off. Then show up at the restaurant and sit down across from me, knowing I don’t want any more gossip so I would glare at him but wouldn’t put up a fuss.
Fucking brothers.
“Works for me,” he says with another shrug. “Let me just change my shirt.”
I glance down at myself as he walks away, realize that’s a good idea and head to my bedroom to do the same.
Something that’s made safer because of the beam we just replaced.
A.K.A. we’re no longer at risk of falling through the floor just by walking upstairs.
The walls up here are still covered in stained drywall, the carpet musty and marred with years of unclean shoes and feet. There are dents from fists and feet—mostly my father’s—and a single picture of the four of us.
Right before Mom died.
In an instant, the tension is back, the memories threatening to lurch forward and nip at my heels.
“Move it, kid,” Rain shouts. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re all of five years older than me,” I shout back, getting myself moving and turning for my room.
“Five years is a lot of years.” He steps into the hall, pulling a clean shirt over his head. “As you used to tell me all the time.”
I did tell him that.
Too many fucking times.
Before he left.
That tension between my shoulder blades ratchets even tighter and I grind my teeth together, pain shooting through my jaw, down my neck, making that spot at the top of my back ache. The one that’s been in a near-constant state of strain since Joey decided that she wanted Damon and not—
No.
Being back in Cedar Hollow. In this house. The fucking memories…
It’s already too much.
I don’t need to get sucked back into the vortex of the fucked-up mess that was my time with the Sierra.
My family.
Then…not.
“Dude!” Rain shouts, making me jump. “I’m hungry. Let’s go already.”
I shake myself, shove my feelings away—no, I shove them down until they can’t be shoved down any longer…and then, when they threaten to escape, I shove them down even deeper.
I could punch something.
Or someone.
That helps.
Promise.
But I’m not on the ice, and fighting with Rain won’t just get me five minutes in the box.
It’ll also delay Molly’s.
I ignore the letter on my dresser—the same way I’ve been ignoring it for the last week—grab the first tee I lay my hands on, say fuck-all to changing my jeans, then meet my brother downstairs.
We walk along the driveway.
“Fucking gutters,” he mutters, glaring at the cedars and at Clover’s house.
I smile.
He punches me. “Asshole.”
I punch him back.
(See? That does make me feel better.)
Until he punches me again.
I rub the aching spot on my shoulder. “Jesus,” I grumble. “I’m not the one who wants to keep this fucking place.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles back. “I’ve heard that all before and I don’t have the patience to argue with you right now. Bitch about it after I get one of Molly’s double chocolate chip cookies in my mouth, okay?”
“We’re having salads, remember?” I remind him as we turn up Eagle Place and pass by the Pioneer Museum.
He snorts. “There’s no way we’re going to Molly’s and only eating salads.” He smirks at me. “You can be on your fancy athlete diet if you want. But I’m getting a fucking—”
“Wait!”
We both whip around, and my lungs seize when I see Holly rushing down the sidewalk, her smile wide.
All the rage fades—the anger and hurt and memories—and I start to crouch down, lifting my arms…
And she runs right the fuck by me.
Fuck.
“Rain!” she exclaims as she launches herself at my brother.
I halt mid-crouch then carefully straighten, rubbing my palm over the sharp pain in my chest that threatens to send me to my knees.
Maybe I’m having a heart attack.
Maybe it’ll take me out and finally put me out of my misery.
“Hey, Killer,” Rain says as he hugs Holly tight.
“I’m not a killer,” Holly replies with a frown.
He tugs her ponytail and sets her on her feet. “Did you forget that I saw you on the soccer field last season? Who got all those goals?”
Holly lights up, and there that pain in my chest is again. “You remember?”
“How could I forget?” my brother says, tucking her close to his side. “You were awesome.”
Fuck.
I didn’t know it was possible to hurt this much.
The door holding back those memories buckles, threatens to give way.
Fuck.
I can’t do this.
“Storm.”
I drop my hand to my side, force a neutral expression on my face as I turn to Poppy. “Oh,” I say lamely. “Hey.”
Her expression is far too knowing, those gorgeous green eyes seeing far too much.
So, I react quickly, distracting her before she can transition into pity.
Distracting myself from all that I’m feeling.
“We’re going to Molly’s, wanna come?”