Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
His head snaps up, that curious look in his eyes. “What about you?”
“This isn’t about me.”
“We’re all brothers.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Just talk to Morgan.”
It surprises me when Rhett nods. I can’t say if that means he’ll actually do it, but I hope so.
Ask him if you can all do something together. You should all be together.
It’s more important for them, El, and you know it.
No. You’re important too.
And then, for some reason, I think about Archer. He would say the same. What is it with people in my life telling me stuff like that all of a sudden? Sure, one of them isn’t even alive and a lie I tell myself because I don’t know how to handle life without her, but still.
“Maybe we could all…do something. They’ll come over to see my dogs sometime. You could come too.” My stomach twists, the urge to pull back into myself, to take the words back and walk out the door tugging on me.
“Morgan hates me, even if he’s trying to act like he doesn’t. You’ve never wanted anything to do with me. You don’t have to pretend otherwise.”
Rhett stands and tries to walk past me, but I reach out and grab his arm. His words repeat through my head, creating a picture I’ve never seen before, one that’s not a Rhett I’ve ever imagined, yet more similar than I would have thought. Coming from someone else…it hurts to have them think of themselves that way. “You sound like me,” I say softly.
“What?”
We all sound like this, don’t we? All three of us have so much fucking anger, so much resentment at ourselves and each other, and none of us feel like we deserve anything more. Morgan is learning now because of Dusty, but Rhett and I, we’re still lost, kept afloat by a lifetime of a man breaking us down until we can’t help but hate ourselves and everything around us. How did I not see it before? I never thought I had anything in common with Rhett—Morgan either, but Rhett the least. In this moment, I realize I do. We’re tied together in our trauma, and it’s shaped many of our pieces to be the same.
“He’s fucked us up so much, Rhett.” It’s more than Gregory for me, of course, because it’s my fault Ella died, but the rest of it, it’s all on the man who was supposed to love us but never cared about anyone but himself. And I’m not sure if I deserve this, don’t know if I should be trying to…whatever the fuck this is I’m trying to do, but I don’t think I can stop myself.
“He did,” Rhett answers, not pulling out of my hold. Except for that night at the jail, it’s the first time he hasn’t automatically defended Gregory.
“You should meet the dogs.”
“Me, you, Dusty, and Morgan? That sounds like an accident waiting to happen.”
“Archer will be there too.”
He gives me that studying expression he’s so good at. He’s often the smartest person in a room, and he can make you feel like an experiment he’s trying to work out. This one I know is about Archer—take one mentally scarred man, and another who is probably the best damn person to ever live, and…
“When?”
“I don’t know yet.” I’m not sure how ready I am to do it ASAP, but it needs to be done.
“Sure, East. I’ll come,” he says softly before stepping away. This time, I let him.
This was enough for me today. My hands are shaking, heart beating too fast, emotions short-circuiting my brain. “I’ll let you know when,” I tell him, then walk out without another word.
The second I’m back in my truck, I pull a piece of paper from the glove box and begin folding a butterfly. As soon as it’s done, I fold another and another until I’ve been sitting there for who knows how long and I have a passenger seat full of butterflies. But it’s not enough, never enough.
My chest is heavy like there’s a weight on it. I want to go to a bar, go out and get drunk or cause trouble because it’s easier than feeling things. Want to drive too fast and dangerous for the rush. Risk myself because there’s no reason not to. Why shouldn’t I just be the fuckup everyone wants me to be rather than sitting here, trying to fix shit with my brothers and…Archer. I don’t want to disappoint him. Don’t want to give him a reason to not be friends with me anymore. Maybe he won’t walk away. Maybe if I can do the right thing, I won’t lose him.
Instead of going to the bar, I call him.
“Hey. You never just call. Is everything—”
“I want you.” I shake my head. “Shit. I’m sorry. You might be busy…at work or whatever and…I shouldn’t have called.” Yesterday he visited his sister after work, so maybe he’s doing that again.