“You were right before, I am in a mood, so don’t fuck with me.”
My brothers and I are going on a seven year familial relationship. How we all met and came together sucks ass in the worst ways possible. We all came from broken lives or damaged homes or no homes at all. We’ve all come a long way, though, and we’ve proven that personal success stories can be real.
North House saved us all. The home—brain child of Cade North, Josh North’s uncle—is a group home for destroyed teens that builds them back up again through rigorous physical, emotional and spiritual training with mixed martial arts.
We all lived there together—and it forged a bond among the seven of us that will never, never be broken.
“Why didn’t you—?”
“Tell her how I feel?” I almost laugh as I finish Talon’s sentence. “Wouldn’t that have been great timing?” I jeer. “I’ll get right on that. ‘Girl I rescued from a murderous drug cartel, sex slavery and death, I know you probably feel drawn to me simply because of the psychological effects of the fact that I saved your life, but I may have developed feelings for you.’ Get fucking real.”
I toss my last dart. “Doesn’t matter anyway—no timing is good. She has her entire life ahead of her. You don’t mess with that. You don’t tell a girl like that how you’re feeling.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Josh asks, calling me on my bullshit.
“You and Liam, you have a rare . . . thing going on. You found the women who are perfect for you—you deserve them.”
“Oh fuck, here comes the self-loathing,” Connor quips unsympathetically.
“You’re wrong. I don’t hate myself,” I correct, barely on the edge of calm. “I just don’t think that kind of relationship is in the cards for me.”
“Because you don’t deserve it?” Talon pushes.
“No, I believe any dumb fuck—like any of you—who gets their shit together is deserving. For me it’s a matter of destiny.”
Everyone falls dead silent.
Back when we were teenagers in North House we were forced to go to group therapy sessions. I never participated. Cade, who was, and still is, a great man and house-parent used to try to get me to let it all out one-on-one with him. I had no desire to.
I was consumed by fury—always raging—raging that I couldn’t right the wrongs, raging that we lost Betty, raging I couldn’t bring Chief back. I had become a dark, violent storm because I had no say in my own life. No control over who died and who didn’t.
I was filled with unending madness because I was all alone in the world.
I was, and still am, the volatile one of the group. The one they really don’t want to mess with. Liam is tough as hell, but he still had Quinn to make his rough edges smoother; Josh had a great life until bullies shattered his world, causing him severe pain and anguish. The rest of the brothers each had something to keep them sane—a sense of humor or just a better disposition than I had.
Don’t get me wrong, death is death and pain is pain, and I’m not thinking any of their pain was less than mine—not at all—we were all dealt a raw hand by the Maker of the Game.
I simply felt like the lone wolf, always on the edge of the pack, left alone to wander the earth for some unknown punishment.
I could never willingly pull a woman I had feelings for into that disastrous emotional mess. No way.
My feelings for Farrington need to be locked in a vault—and the key thrown into the depths of an abyss—so they can’t harm her.
But I can’t do that quite yet, because I’ve never felt this deeply for someone before. And even though it hurts like blistering hell, I want to hold on to it, so I can always remember what it was like. What she was like.
It’s been forty-two hours since I walked away and left her standing there looking at my back. I behaved like such an asshole—I couldn’t even say goodbye.
“Fuck this! Time for a relapse.”
With all my darts in the board, I stalk over to the Keurig and grab the first coffee pod my fingers land on.
“It doesn’t fucking matter, ’cause I’m not the guy who gets to ride off into the sunset with the girl.” I get a quick glimpse of the green and white foil top before I stick the pod into the machine, and not caring what the flavor is, I close the top and hit the button to start brewing. “She might think I’m a fucking hero, but I’m not.”
“You’re more of a classic anti-hero,” Chase puts in, stepping up to take the darts from the board.
“Yeah, you’re like fucking Batman,” Reese says with either sarcasm or awe.
I shoot him a death stare.
“I mean it as the highest fucking compliment, man. Batman is fucking awesome.”
“What smells like pizza?” Chase asks.
“Maybe Adrienne was nice for a change and thought of feeding the team,” Liam says. Adrienne is the girl who works the front of the shop.
Reese and Conner snicker.
“Just call her,” Talon finally says.