Jackson's Destiny (Sawyer Brothers #2) (2 page)

Chapter Two

Jackson

I hated feeling helpless. I didn’t like the lack of control or the inability to make the hurt go away. But the ache in my chest and the emptiness my father’s death brought upon me were things I knew I would never get over. I felt hollow. I knew my brothers were only trying to help, but I honestly just wanted to be left alone to grieve. I wasn’t used to showing weakness around others, so it was something I definitely didn’t want to share.

I had tried more than a dozen times to enter the barn, but I just couldn’t do it. Every fucking time I tried, the vision of my father lying helpless on the ground came crashing back. Seeing it the first time was crippling enough; the flashbacks felt a hundred times worse.

“Let’s just take a ride,” Noah offered. “We’ll take the path Dad always led us on. Check on the gates, the fence. We’ll just ride, brother.”

His voice wavered when he mentioned our father, and I only shook my head as I looked out over the open land. The sun had begun to set, and the rays of light glistened off the lake in the distance, highlighting it.

“Then let’s just take a walk,” Ryan said.

“I can’t. I just need some time.” I tried to control my irritation, but I was nearing my breaking point. “I know you guys are trying to help, to offer support.” I turned to face my brothers. “But right now, I’m feeling like I’m gonna lose my shit, and when that happens, I just need to be alone.”

Tears were not an option, not now. That was something I needed solitude for.

Noah stepped forward, and I held up my hand. “You can’t fix this, Noah. You can’t give me your words of wisdom and make everything all right. It will never be all right, no matter what you say.”

“We all lost him, Jack,” Ryan said.

“Yeah, and each one of us will deal with it differently. This is me dealing. I need to be alone for a while. Just give me that,” I begged.

Ryan nodded as he placed his hand on Noah’s shoulder. I could see the battle in Noah’s eyes. He didn’t like the idea of leaving me, but Ryan tugged him back, giving him no choice.

“You call. I don’t give a shit what time. You need me, you need us, and you call.” Ryan stared at me until I nodded in agreement.

I turned on my heel and began to walk down the hill in the direction of my place.

Right now, drowning out the ache inside sounded real good. I had a bottle of Johnnie Walker that promised to make my troubles go way, even if it was only for a little while.

***

I woke to a loud, incessant pounding on my front door. Startled from my drunken stupor, I sat up quickly, spilling half a glass of whiskey over my lap. The pounding continued, and I looked down at the crotch of my jeans, which now looked as if I had pissed myself.

“What the fuck?” I mumbled before rubbing my tongue against the roof of my mouth. A nasty-as-hell taste lingered from my night of drinking. The knocking continued as I stumbled over the throw pillows on my couch and staggered across the room before I fell against the wall at the side of my front door. I groaned as I twisted the handle and yanked the door open, shielding my eyes from the sunlight that spilled in.

“What the hell?” I asked, backing up so the awning on my porch would cut out enough of the light for me to get a better view.

“Don’t ‘what the hell’ me,” Noah said, and I squinted as I looked back at my brothers standing on the front porch, looking back with concerned expressions. “We’ve been beating on your door for close to thirty minutes.”

Ryan brushed past me as he walked inside and wrinkled his nose in disgust. “This place smells like ass.”

“Shit, it smells worse than ass, what is that?” Noah asked as he leaned down and picked up an open can with the label hanging half the way off it. Syrupy contents dripped onto the hardwood floor. “Is this dog food?”

I took it from his grasp. “No, asshole, its corn-beef hash.” I twisted the can from side to side, second-guessing myself. I had no memory of even opening it, yet it looked familiar.

“You sure it ain’t dog food?” Noah asked.

I shook my head. “It ain’t dog food, dumbass. It’s hash. I just can’t remember eating it.” I turned back toward the couch and flopped down against the cushions.

Ryan scanned the room before his gaze settled on me. “You get so drunk that you pissed yourself too?”

I let my head fall against the couch and let out a huff. “It’s whiskey. You smartasses made me dump it on myself when you beat on my door.” I looked up just in time to catch the two of them look at one another like I was full of shit. “You don’t believe me, take a whiff.” I grabbed my crotch and smirked up at them.

I was definitely still drunk. Hell, the room was still spinning and they both looked like they were swaying back and forth.

“Ain’t smelling your dick, man, especially since I don’t know where it’s been,” Noah taunted.

He was always trying to get a rise out of me, and on any other day it would work. Today I just didn’t have it in me to care. So I ignored his dig and relaxed my head back against the cushions once more.

“So you ready to go tend to the horses?” Noah asked.

“We got a shipment of feed and the thoroughbred coming in later today. The stall needs to be hosed down and stocked before two,” Ryan reminded me.

“You guys take it,” I said while keeping my eyes closed.

“We’ll help, but you need to lead the way, brother. This show is yours now.” Ryan was not going to let me back out.

The reminder that my father was no longer here hit me deep in the gut. I could run this ranch with my eyes closed. I had been doing it right alongside Dad since I was in junior high. But running the place wasn’t the problem; it was the knowledge I no longer had my father at my side. We’d always started our days out the same, with a cup of coffee on the back deck while discussing the daily chores that would need to be completed.

I swallowed past the burn in my throat. “I can’t,” I confessed. “Not yet.” The emotions filling my chest were threatening to spill over.

“Jack.” Ryan’s voice was hesitant. Of all people he knew where my head was right now. After his wife, Claire, died, he checked out for months, then years. He pushed everyone away, pretending he was okay when on the inside he was falling apart.

I felt the couch dip at my side but refused to look up. “Life will always be different now, feel different,” he said. “It feels like the actions and tasks of everyday life are pointless now. Believe me, I know. We all lost Dad, and it hurts.”

I looked up at him then, and he stopped me before I could respond.

“But you feel it the most out of us three.” His eyes filled with unshed tears, and damn it if my own vision didn’t get cloudy. “You started every day with him. You ended every night together too. You don’t think Noah and I know how close the two of you were? Sometimes it seemed like you two were the same person. Hell, you’d only have to look at each other to know what the other one was thinking. But we have to keep this place going, for Dad.”

He sniffed and took in a calming breath. “This ranch meant the world to him. We have to hold it together. We have to take care of Momma, and we have to take of each other. This is us taking care of you. We won’t walk away and let you fall, Jack.”

As Noah sat down on the other side of me, the first tear spilled over and ran down my cheek. “You can cuss us out, you can fight us, but we’re not letting you do this alone. We stick together.”

I nodded because my throat was burning and I knew words at that moment were impossible.

I let go and for the first time in my life, I cried in front of my brothers. Placing my face in my hands, I let go of the emotions I had hidden over the last few days. I shook with heavy sobs as my brothers sat at my sides, offering the support I didn’t want but knew I had no choice but to accept.

Chapter Three

Bailey

Amber and Olivia ended up spending the night with me, and we gorged ourselves on a ton of baked goods and cried over a few sappy movies. We hid out in my room because Amber’s mom was still lingering around, and I had to keep my distance from her. She had somehow weaseled her way into our lives and was now staying in town. She even kept hinting about taking the spare bedroom upstairs. I knew if she and I were left alone for even five minutes, I might kill her.

Carla and I had a lot of unfinished business, but there was a time and a place for it, and it wasn’t now. With the death of Bill still so fresh on everyone’s mind, a knock-down, drag-out fight between me and Queen Homewrecker wasn’t something anyone needed.

I woke up early this morning as I always do and started the coffee for the bakery. Once Amber stumbled down the stairs, we worked together to get the trays stocked with the items Amber had baked last night.

A few minutes later, we unlocked the doors, and customers wandered in. Most offered their condolences to Amber, and I was thankful Olivia was still sleeping. She didn’t need the constant reminder of her loss, even though I knew it was still very much on her mind.

It was just after ten when I heard Carla’s laughter coming from the back entrance of the bakery. She pushed through the door, and Olivia followed closely behind, a smile gracing her lips.

“Oh, sweetheart, you need to show a little more leg,” Carla babbled. “You are young and adorable, and I would kill to have your legs.”

I was in a sour mood, and even though it may not have been my place to speak up, I did it anyway.

“Olivia, don’t listen to Carla. She has no idea what it means to be a true lady.” The smile fell from Carla’s lips, and her nostrils flared. “No fashion advice, or anything for that matter, means much coming from a tramp like her.”

Thank God our last customer of the morning had already left. Olivia looked between me and Carla as if she had no clue what to do or say. Instead of speaking, she slowly slipped past Carla and walked toward Amber, who stood near the cash register.

Carla squared her shoulders and narrowed her eyes. “That’s classic coming from you. If I remember correctly, you were quite the tramp back in Chicago.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure I never slept with married men. I’m more than positive I didn’t break up a marriage. And I know I didn’t prey on heartbroken men that were mourning the loss of their only son and then throw the fact I’d just nailed her husband in the face of that man’s wife.”

Carla’s face went ashen, and Amber gasped.

“What?” she asked, but I ignored her. Instead I stormed toward the back entrance, grabbing my keys from the table on the way.

Outside, I jumped into my Jeep and sped away as tears rolled down my cheeks.

I had always been able to control my anger until now. So many things from my life were still unsettled, and Carla was one of them. I hated her with a passion that I had to tuck away because of my relationship with Amber. I didn’t want how I felt about her mother to come between the two of us. But as a result, I was now filled with this overwhelming, uncontrollable anger again. It was like the death of Bill and the emotional turmoil it had thrown everyone around me into had brought back the loss of Gabe and in turn the disintegration of the rest of my family.

I drove until I couldn’t see through my tears, then pulled over to the side of the road. Telling myself I was being ridiculous, I yanked my phone out of my back pocket and swiped my finger across the screen. Guilt set in as I saw the number of missed calls from Amber. She and Olivia didn’t need my drama, but God, Carla made me see red.

I scrolled through my contacts and stopped on my mother, hovering my finger over the screen as I mentally prepared for the call.

The moment her solemn voice whispered hello, my chest tightened. “Hey, Mom, how are you?” I asked. I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut tightly.

My mom had once been a vibrant, happy woman, but after my brother’s death, she just gave up on life. My father tried to get her help for the depression she’d fallen into after Gabe’s funeral, but she refused, and finally he just gave up on her. That was when he gave in to Carla’s advances and threw away any hope of mending his marriage.

“I’m fine, Bailey,” she whispered, her voice raspy and weak. “You don’t have to keep checking on me.”

I swallowed past the burning sensation that had begun to rise in my throat. “I just wanted to say hi.”

“You did. Now go back to your life,” she said before hanging up.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I sat in my Jeep, staring through the windshield blankly. I had never faced what my father had done. Instead, I tucked it safely away and pretended it never happened. My father was too worried about his professional image at the time, and I was too saddened by the loss of Gabe to confront him. My family quickly fell apart after that, and I was so terrified of losing Amber that in the end I never told her what her mother had done.

But now that Carla was here and in my face day after day, I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I couldn’t pretend she didn’t screw my father and then gloat about it to people that she knew would tell my mother. When Mom confronted her, Carla had the nerve to tell my mother that she was trying to help him move past his mistakes, as if my mother was one of those so-called mistakes. I’m more than positive his worst mistake was Carla.

My anger wasn’t going away, so I made another irrational decision by calling my father next.

“Bailey,” he greeted absently. I wasn’t surprised. He was so consumed with work that few things meant more to him than his next big account.

“Have you even taken the time to check on her?” The last time my father and I talked, I returned the keys to the BMW he had insisted I drive. Like Amber, I no longer wanted to be the spoiled girl whose absent father thought he could buy her off in exchange for ignoring her.

“I’ve been busy, Bailey,” he said in a clipped tone that only fueled my anger. I was clearly bothering him, but I didn’t give a shit.

“Busy?” I responded in an equally clipped tone. “Doing what? Screwing your secretary or conquering your next big venture? I guess that doesn’t leave much time to check in on the woman you kicked while she was already down.”

“I don’t appreciate your attitude.”

I laughed, shaking my head at his heartless behavior. Two years ago, I never would have thought of speaking to my father like I was now. But my respect for him was long gone.

“Please, will you for one moment think about her?” My lower lip trembled, and I took in a breath, attempting to calm my anger. “We all lost him, Dad. We all wish we would have done more to help him. But he is gone, and I know how much that hurt, but we can’t bring him back. Our family fell apart, and know I’m living in some delusional fantasy by thinking that we will ever be whole again. But if you have even an ounce of compassion left in you, please…”

We were both silent except for the sound of our breathing.

I laid my head back against the seat and allowed the tears to fall without trying to control them.

“Please get her help. Even if you can’t be the one that helps her, find someone that can. You owe her that,” I said just before lowering the phone and ending the call.

I don’t know how much time had passed before the slam of a car door startled me. I looked up into my rearview mirror to see Noah’s patrol car parked just a few feet behind me and Noah approaching me with his hand tucked into the waistband of his jeans.

No matter how I was feeling, the Sawyer boys made my heart race. They had this dominating look about them that made me feel tiny in their presence, and they were too attractive for their own good.

I hit the button to roll down my window just as he stepped up to it. The moment my eyes connected with his, a look of concern washed over his features.

“Hey, Bay, what’s going on?”

I shook my head and averted my eyes immediately. I was a mess, and damn if his concern didn’t bring on more emotions. “Did Amber call you?” I whispered.

“Ryan,” he replied. “But she called him. She’s worried and so are we.”

“I’m fine. I just let Carla get to me,” I assured him, but I knew I didn’t sound too convincing.

Noah opened my door, wrapped his arms around my shoulders, and pulled me into a hug. The smell of his cologne reminded me of Jackson. What the hell was it with these men? Did they all wear the same cologne?

As he spoke to someone on his cell phone, I could hear his words vibrating through his chest. “I need you to come out to Cameron Lane and pick up Bailey’s Jeep.” There was a pause before he spoke again. “I’m taking her to my place so she can have some space. Stop being an ass and come get her Jeep.”

I wondered who he had called, but before I could ask, he was pulling me out of my truck and leading me toward his cruiser.

“Your Jeep will get picked up and brought to my place,” he said. “I’m on duty until ten tonight, so you have some time alone. Stay longer if you need to, but you aren’t driving in your state.”

I looked up at him, wondering where this direct side of Noah had been hiding. I was used to the calm, cool, and collected version.