Since You've Been Gone (Welcome to Paradise #4)
Elle Kennedy
Chapter One
“A month? Are you kidding me, bro? Where did you say you were?”
Austin Bishop gritted his teeth and repeated himself for the third time. “Western Illinois, heading for the Iowa border.”
On the other end of the line, his older brother cursed in annoyance. “You can make the drive to Colorado in a few days, Austin. Are you seriously telling me it’s going to take you a month to snap some pictures of a few small towns?”
No, probably not.
“Yes, definitely,” he lied, flicking the turn signal of his SUV and changing lanes.
He zoomed past a slow-moving SUV then steered back into the right lane of the freeway. A sign up ahead informed him that the next service station was in two miles. Thank God. He was dying for a coffee.
“Let me get this straight—you’d rather drive around the Midwest than come home for your own mother’s fiftieth birthday party.” His brother sounded incensed now.
“It’s not a matter of would I rather,” he muttered in response. “This is my job, Nate. I can’t just tell the magazine to fuck off. I agreed to this commission and I have no choice but to follow through on it.”
He was lying again, and he hoped Nate’s big-brother psychic powers didn’t kick in to call him on the bullshit. Truth was, he’d been doing his damnedest this past year to stay away from Paradise, the scenic mountain town where he was born and raised. That meant taking assignment after assignment, even ones he wasn’t particularly passionate about. Despite some opinions to the contrary, photography wasn’t just about taking “pretty pictures”, but there was no doubt that his recent work had been less about passion and more about avoidance.
This latest job—snapping shots of small-town Main Streets—was definitely not his cup of tea. He preferred grittier subject matter, like the spread he’d done last year when he’d spent a month in the Middle East capturing the violent riots that had broken out on the streets of Baghdad. That particular spread, in fact, was responsible for the piece of paper currently taking residence in his duffel, the one listing him as a finalist for a Pulitzer. He hadn’t won the acclaimed prize, nor had he attended the festivities luncheon, but just being selected as one of the two runner-ups had been a shining moment in his career. Only twenty-five, and already on his way to winning a Pulitzer. Hot damn.
He hadn’t told his family about it, though. Although he’d come home a handful of times over this past year for special occasions, he’d barely said a word to his mother or brothers during the visits. The realization brought a pang of guilt, but at the moment, he didn’t have it in him to try to bridge that distance he’d created.
And he couldn’t bring himself to rush home just because his big brother commanded it.
“Look, I know you’re pissed,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll try to finish this assignment as fast as I can, but I can’t make any promises, Nate.”
“Fine. Whatever. Just call when you know your exact ETA.”
Click.
Nate had hung up.
Austin’s brows shot up in surprise. His older brother never hung up on people, which told him that Nate was not just pissed but absolutely furious.
He couldn’t say he blamed him, but again, Austin had no intention of rushing home. That last visit to Paradise had taken a lot out of him, so much so that he’d pretty much sprinted right out of town and hadn’t had any contact with his family for three months.
Family.
The word lingered in his head like a bad odor. His father, Henry Bishop, had been a carousing drunk and a shitty dad, so shitty that his sons had banded together and vowed never to be like the man who’d sired them. For as long as he could remember, Austin had considered his older brothers his best friends and role models. As the youngest, he’d worshipped Nate, Owen and Jake.
And his mom. Lord, he’d worshipped her too. Out of all the boys, Austin had been the mama’s boy, the one who ran to Della when he got hurt or when he got in trouble at school or when his big brothers were picking on him.
But those days were long gone. Which was usually what happened when you discovered that the person you trusted most in the world had been lying to you your entire life.
Sighing again, Austin tossed his iPhone in the cup holder and sped off the highway ramp. Twenty minutes later, he’d filled up the gas tank, ordered an extra large coffee from a Mickey D’s drive-thru, and was back on the road.
Main Streets of the Midwest. Christ. What a cheesy, flowery subject, and one he didn’t have much interest in, but hey, he’d take pictures of his own ass if it meant avoiding Paradise just a little while longer.