Crossroads

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The hoppy brew slid down my tongue, and I swallowed, doing my best to hide in the shadows. It was where I needed to be, because if I stepped foot into that light once again, I’d catch the attention of others. I was done doing that. I didn’t need the light of whatever harpy needed to stare at me.

I liked my brother’s brewery. Hell, it was one of my favorite places to be. It was slightly out of the way, though sometimes a little too people-y for me. I much preferred my cabin in the woods. It took a four-wheel-drive truck to traverse the mountain roads, so I rarely had to deal with strangers. But the brewery wasn’t that bad. After all, they needed to be near some form of civilization to actually get customers in for events like this.

Callum made damn fine beer, and with the way that he was practically beaming over at Felicity, he looked like a completely different man.

I ran a hand over my chest and took another sip of my beer. I knew that look. I knew it happened when you found that one person who was everything for you, and you knew that no matter what occurred or came at you, you would weather through it because you would have each other. And you’d face the future, waiting for whatever happened next.

But what happened when that person wasn’t there anymore? What happened when the weathering took its toll and brought them along with it?

I downed the rest of the beer, put the bottle on one of the side tables, and reached for another one. I could have two, along with some water, and be fine to drive. But I wasn’t sure I could handle this many people for long.

It might have been an event to celebrate Felicity and Callum making a go of it and finally being healthy after all the shit that had come at them recently, and while I knew nearly every single person in this building, it was still too much.

And how much of a wimp and a dick did that make me?

Disgusted with myself, I popped the top on the other beer bottle and took a big gulp.

I was a pussy, and everyone knew it.

Although what was that saying? Why was weakness considered being a pussy? Because a pussy could take a pounding, and a dick was way too sensitive.

My lips twitched at the memory of the first time I had heard those words. The way she had practically growled them at me, leaving both of us in tears, laughing far too hard.

It bothered me that I couldn’t get her off my mind. And it bothered me that she wasn’t constantly there. But sometimes I had to close my eyes and drift off, letting those memories come back so I could still see her face. Still see their faces. Smiling up at me. Even when Callum had said it was just gas.

I knew when my kids smiled at me. A dad always knew.

I took another swig, wishing it were something a little harder. Why couldn’t Callum distill something other than just beer? Then again, I’d probably end up like the old man, pickled and bitter and the murderer everybody thought I was.

I cursed under my breath, set the bottle down, and reached for my water. If I were going to go down that path, I needed more water. No good could come from the M-word.

Callum and Felicity laughed behind the bar, pulling drafts for family members as they milled about, and more town folk drifted along, some of them still judging. After all, the age gap between the two wasn’t that small. In fact, the significance of it might’ve made other people raise their brows as much as they were. But our family was no stranger to being the talk of the town or doing some shit that made people sneer.

My sister Briar was getting married after she had gotten pregnant. Well, that had just been the tip of the iceberg. My own twin died in a fiery crash, and some still mumbled under their breath that it could have been drugs.

Stupid fucking people. Malcolm hadn’t died of drugs, at least not on his end.

I rubbed my hand over my beard, wondering what I looked like underneath. After all, that’s what Malcolm would look like. He always liked to be clean-shaven. And perhaps I’d been somewhat the same. She’d liked me with a beard and without.

But she was gone. And I was too tired to care about anyone else. I’d be the selfish asshole that people thought I was.

I ran my hand over my nose ring, twisting the hoop slightly. I always did that when I needed to get out of a certain situation, and needed space. Teagan usually called me on it, but she was too busy laughing at something Finnian and Sterling were saying. Each of the twins had one of Finnian’s girls on their hips, bouncing them around and making the girls giggle.

It was like a cut straight to the heart. Bile coated my tongue.

I loved my nieces. All three of them. And when the rest of my siblings began to have kids, I would love them too.

But seeing them hurt.

Because my kids were supposed to be here. My kids were supposed to be alive. And laughing and joking and giggling. My eldest was supposed to be the oldest cousin. Watching over Briar and Finnian’s kids. And the baby wouldn’t be a baby anymore.

I blinked away tears, pissed off that I had let my mind go down that path. I needed to wall it up. To force myself to just breathe, because if I didn’t, I would hurt those kids.

And I refused to do that.

“Wait. I know you.” A stranger blinked at me, her bright red hair flowing around her face as she leaned into one of the townspeople that I couldn’t name.

“Hmm?” I said, not bothering to do anything.

“Wait, you’re not him. Because he’s dead, right? That drummer of that one band. But no, I know you.” She snapped her fingers. “Oh, you’re that guy. Who they thought killed his wife and kids? But they ended up being wrong. Right?”

The room went silent as the drunk girl teetered on her heels.

“Sorry, man,” the nameless townsperson muttered, and I set my water down as ice shivered down my spine. It was better than the flames that had once licked there. The scars on my body twitched, a stamped memory of my failures.

“What the fuck, man?” Sterling whispered as he tugged the guy away, hopefully taking the girl with them.

And now here I was, the center of fucking attention, and all I wanted to do was get out of here. Why did people have to fucking be here?

“Bodhi,” Teagan said as she came forward, hand outstretched.

I shook my head, drained my water, and turned on my heels. I knew where the back exit was. Hell, I always knew where the exits were.

I didn’t need their pitying stares or their judgments. Because nearly every fucking person in that room who was not related to me by blood or by heart had believed. They called me a murderer. They called me by my father’s name.

And they hadn’t even for a second thought that maybe somebody else had done it.

I bumped into a hard wall of muscle as I turned the corner and looked into Thatcher’s eyes. We were the same height, same build, and while Thatcher had a few scars, mine covered most of what was unseen beneath my clothes.

“Bodhi, let me walk you to your truck.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine. I only had one beer and a couple of sips of another. I did my peopling.” I paused, a sourness filling my mouth. “Just let the others know I’m fine. Okay?”

“I’m not going to lie to them.”

“Then tell them I’m shitty. I don’t care. Your kids are in there. I know your parents brought them, so go hang out with them. You don’t have enough time with your kids, Thatcher.”

My friend winced but gave me a tight nod. After all, we used to be closer. Until he hadn’t been fast enough to save my family. Just like I hadn’t been.

Footsteps sounded behind me, and I knew exactly who they belonged to.

“Bodhi, son.”

I just shook my head and stomped my way out the back exit.

Mr. Carter, Felicity’s dad and the former fire captain, gave an audible sigh as Thatcher, the current fire captain, called after me.

But I ignored them, jumped into my truck, and headed up the mountain road where I’d find my solace.

The home I’d raised my babies in, that I’d made love to my wife in, no longer stood, but on another lot over, I’d built another cabin for myself. It wasn’t large, but there was a place to sleep and a place to eat. And the barn in the back was immense enough that I could do all of my work and store it. I had bought enough acreage, people wouldn’t bother me. I could keep my bees and just breathe the mountain air without having to deal with people. There were a couple of other small cabins on the property, ones that I didn’t use. But I guess if I ever felt like having company, they could stay there. My lips twitched. That wouldn’t be happening.

I rolled down the windows and let the mountain air fill the truck cabin.

It was summer now, with the heat of a Colorado sunny day doing its thing. Though when we were this far up in the mountains, summer wasn’t exactly the same as it was down in the Mile High City.

But my bees were happy, even though keeping bees at this altitude was a technique all on its own, but I was learning.

And it was something I could do without dealing with people. It was really the best of all worlds.

I pulled into my driveway and frowned as I spotted a light off in the distance.

“What the fuck?” I mumbled under my breath.

There was a light on in the closest cabin to my place. Who the hell was squatting on my property?

I growled, jumped out of my truck, and went into my barn. I had a gun, but I wasn’t going to use it. Instead, I pulled out my axe and figured I’d scare the teenager or whoever was using my cabin as a place to hook up. That had to be it. After all, the person who used to try to squat on my property was dead. And I didn’t even miss the old man.

Hands fisted, I stomped my way toward the cabin. Without another word, I banged on the door, growling, “Whoever the fuck you are, get off my property.”

No answer. I banged again and reached for the door handle. Unlocked. What a fucking idiot.

I slammed open the door, axe in hand, and blinked as the woman in front of me screamed bloody murder. She held up a bat, eyes wide, and when she finally quit screaming, she bared her teeth.

“A fucking axe murderer? Could you be any more cliché in the mountains?”

“Kiera?” I asked, aghast.

The light from the fire she had set, even in the summer heat, not only filled the room but glinted off her septum ring and her brow ring. She was covered in tattoos, from what skin she showed, and her eyes were swollen. So damn swollen, that I was afraid she’d not only been crying, but someone had hit her.

“What the hell are you doing here, Kiera?”

“So glad that you remembered my name.” She dropped the bat, her chest heaving. “If you could maybe let go of the axe, that would be wonderful. Because you’re starting to scare me.”

I looked at the axe in my hand and let it fall to my side, careful of the blade. “You didn’t answer my question. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Teagan said I could stay. I just need a moment. Can you let me stay?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears.

I didn’t know Kiera well, but I’d never seen her cry. Not once.

And I had no idea why a world-famous, Grammy Award-winning artist and drummer in one of the biggest rock bands in the world would be hiding in my cabin.

Yet all I could think, even with the fear on her face, was that she had taken my dead twin’s place in the band.

And if my brother were alive, she wouldn’t be here.

And I had no idea what the fuck I was supposed to do with that.

“Bodhi? Can I stay?”

And with no other good answer to that, I shook my head and sighed.

“Fine. But you want to tell me why you have that bruise?” I asked, my voice cutting.

And that’s when Kiera West, the one woman who made my dick twitch after all these years, burst into tears.

What a great way to end this day from hell.