Into the Nothing (Broken Outlaw Series Book 1) (4 page)

Read Into the Nothing (Broken Outlaw Series Book 1) Online

Authors: BT Urruela

Tags: #Broken Outlaw Series, #Book One

BOOK: Into the Nothing (Broken Outlaw Series Book 1)
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“Ma’am, honestly, it could quite possibly be the best spaghetti I’ve ever had,” Xander says as he piles more onto his plate.

My mother smiles a broad, honest smile as she places my brother’s dish in the sink. I’m smiling too because, my god, this man is something else. Based on looks alone—but in a semi-sexy kind of way—I’d think about turning around to avoid him in a dark alley. But to hear him speak… his chivalry and respectfulness is something else. Something I haven’t seen much of in the eligible men around these parts. At least not in the last ten years, which is when I started paying attention.

“She is one
hell
of a cook.” Dad slaps a hand against Mom’s ass as she returns to the table, and I put a hand over my eyes in feigned disgust.

“Get a room!” I yell as Mom sets the beers on the table.

“Oh, don’t give me that shit, young lady. How do you think you got here?” Dad turns his attention to Xander. “Your family must miss you being gone all the time?” he asks.

“Daaaad!” I give him my best what-the-fuck look.

Xander just smiles. “No, really, it’s no problem at all. I’ve met a lot of friends along the way, and I’ve done my share of talking.” He clears his throat, swigs, then continues.

“As for family…” He trails off, his eyes darting nervously to the floor.

“You don’t have to say any more,” Mom says softly, her tender voice pulling his eyes to hers.

“Yeah, seriously…
Dad
.” I stare at him, but he doesn’t see me. He’s still looking at Xander, presumably waiting for him to respond. He’s so damn stubborn sometimes.

“Well, it’s a bit too heavy for tonight, but I don’t have much in the way of family. Spent a lot of time in foster care, so my friends are my family.” He takes another swig of his beer. Whatever his past is, he’s accepted it. Or he’s perfected the
look
of acceptance.

“Well, I can understand that. Not to that extent, I’m sure, but my old man was a real bastard. Mother wasn’t much better.” Dad lifts his eyes to the ceiling. “Lord knows I’m not speaking ill of the dead, only the truth.” Mom gives my father a knowing look, placing a hand on his and rubbing it softly with her thumb.

She gets up and collects our dirty dishes, dumping them into the sink with a clatter. She makes her way back to the table quickly. Though she’d never admit it, she’s as interested in the answer as Dad and I. But just as she sits down, Xander abruptly stands and walks to the sink. He begins cleaning the dishes and Mom stands without hesitation.

“Please, I’ll get that later. You’re a guest,” she says.

“And as a guest, I feel like I should do my part. You cooked, so I can clean a few plates off.” Mom reluctantly sits back down. With his back to us, Xander continues talking while he washes the dishes. “Eventually, I’ll end up in Washington. I have some, uh, friends up that way. But I’m in no hurry. This is kind of my ‘discover me’ period, I guess. Traveling the country and seeing what all it has to offer.” He finishes with the plates and sets them on the rack to dry. Then he dries his hands and returns to his seat.

Dad nods with a look of approval. “That’s not a bad idea at all. I’ve told Teresa for years I wanna sell the winery and retire to the open road. Just a Winnebago and my girl. That would be perfect.” He looks Mom in the eyes as if Xander and I aren’t even here.

Dad works long hours and he does it for us and for those years he’ll spend with my mother by his side, four spinning wheels below.

“One day, honey,” Mom says, smiling and gripping his hand tightly. She looks back to Xander. “I think it’s a wonderful thing you’re doing. Most people lack the courage to go somewhere new… somewhere no one knows them. It takes a great deal of strength. Jack knows all about that.”

Dad remains quiet, unaffected.

Xander takes this in for a moment before speaking again. “Well, really, it probably would have been more courageous to stay in Ocala…with people I knew all too well. Have you ever been there?” He laughs.

“No, I haven’t,” Mom says.

“I stopped there on my way to Miami once. Started hearing
Deliverance
banjos the second I stepped out of the car!” Dad laughs heartily and scoots his chair out, then rises to his feet.

“Xander, we’ve got a pretty nice fire pit out back and more than enough beer. How’s a few more sound? You got anywhere to be?”

“I think that sounds like a damn good idea, sir. The schedule looks wide open tomorrow,” he says with a wink.

“Alright, well, no more of this ‘sir’ business. Okay? And God knows I respect and love the hell out of her, but in this house”—he points to Mom—“no ‘ma’am’ either. It’s Jack and Teresa, alright?” Dad cracks a smile, a tipsy twinkle in his eye.

“Yeah Jack, sounds just fine.” Xander says, standing and following Dad to the back door. I collect the empty bottles and grab four more before joining them.

Mom cut me off, along with herself, a good hour ago. That’s one of the pleasures of having Mom as a boss.

Dad and Xander do most of the talking, and their laughter breaks the still night air in waves. Out of nowhere, Dad bats wildly at his legs as embers curl his leg hairs into blackened stubs. His beer tumbles to the ground as he jumps quickly to his feet.

We all laugh hysterically with each bumbling move. It takes Xander a moment before he eventually catches me staring from across the bonfire. It’s the kind of stare best executed after a few. He looks back at me, smiling through the dancing flames as Mom and Dad’s hysterical laughter rings loudly behind us.

“Well, I’ll be… I think I’ve reached my damn limit!” Dad says between laughs, drawing my eyes from Xander, though I’m reluctant to look away.

“Yeah, I might need to get back to the motel before I’m no longer able to drive,” Xander says, rising to his feet and fumbling with his keys.

“No, you can’t drive! You’ve had as much as they have!” Mom scolds. She stands to meet Xander. “I’ll take you there.”

“What about my truck?” I ask, relieved that my tipsy ass won’t have to drive.

“Caleb’s got a learner’s permit. He can drive my car behind us with Paige.”

Dad stands again and throws an arm over Xander’s shoulder. “I need some help with the vineyard—at least for a few months. I have a lot of work that needs to be done and not enough of me to do it.” Dad points to the guesthouse above our garage. “We’ve got a nice little place up there, and seeing as you have no particular timeline, I say you stay awhile and help out. I’d be paying you of course.”

“Sir, uh, no disrespect, but are you—?”

“Jack.”

“I’m sorry. Jack, are you sure you know what you’re asking right now? We’ve had a lot to drink.” Xander looks to Mom. She just smiles.

“Positive. Be over here at nine,” Dad says, making his way to the sliding glass door.

“We are one hundred percent positive, Xander,” Mom adds before she follows Dad to the door. He’s still struggling to open it and I can’t help but laugh.

“Well, there is one thing. I have a dog. I don’t know if that’s a problem.”

“You have a dog?! What kind?” My voice comes out way too high-pitched.

“Yeah, a German Shepherd named Rowdy. Been with me for a few years.”

“We lost our pup a few months ago to cancer. Haven’t had the heart to get another one yet. I hope to see you and Rowdy in the morning,” Dad says, finally walking into the house.

“Xander, I’m gonna get Caleb up, and have him meet you guys out front, okay?”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Teresa.” Xander smiles and Mom heads in after Dad.

And now we’re alone. The fire’s dying down between us, but the cricket’s chirp is alive as ever. The bright country stars light his face in a way that makes him look like a dream—a sultry, beautiful dream.

“So, were they serious?” Xander asks.

“How are you not drunker?” I unintentionally ignore his question, but I wait for my answer anyways.

“More drunk, you mean? How am I not ‘more drunk’?” He smiles and winks. I don’t say anything, and he continues. “I’ve done my fair share of drinking over the last few years. I am twenty-seven, after all.”

God, that smile.

“Oh, well you only have three years on me.”

“Were they serious?” he repeats, ignoring my comment.

“Why? Would you consider it?”

“I
am
considering it—if it were legitimate. How are
you
not more drunk?”

“My mother cut me off, remember?” I roll my eyes. “She loves to treat me like I’m still fifteen. Anyways, it was a legitimate offer. My dad may be drunk, but he knows what he’s saying.”

Xander sits quietly. He looks to be deep in thought.

“Well, I think you should.” I smile, the kind of smile that is meant to say so much more. “I guess we better go meet my mom, but just so you know, I hope to see you and Rowdy in the morning too. You forget the dog, and you might as well just take your ass right back down that gravel road.”

 

 

S
unlight floods the dingy Sunshine Valley Motel room, filling my foggy eyes and making my temples pound. Six hours of toss-and-turn-riddled sleep and the repercussions of last night are making themselves perfectly clear. A drinker I may be, but resistant to hangovers I am not. With age, it seems, the worse they get.

I’d love nothing more than to stay in bed, but I fully intend on taking the Watsons up on their offer. I could use the money and, hell, there’s something about this family that’s comforting. Something like what I had at Fort Benning. Something a guy like me soaks up every bit of.

Family is foreign to me. Always has been. When I get even a glimpse of it, it’s hard to let go.

I manage to shift my legs over the edge of the bed and drag my body from the mattress, but that’s about all I’ve got. My large torso hangs weightlessly over my knees. My stomach lurches, calling for me to lie back down. I swipe a bottle of Aleve from the nightstand and down four of them with a swig of last night’s water. Rowdy is wide awake now and pawing at my feet, his vibrant eyes unyielding. He wants breakfast, and he’s relentless until he gets it.

“Not yet buddy…
please
.” I nudge away a crowd of beer cans and grab a pre-packed bowl from the nightstand, the vibrant green and purplish weed tempting me from its mouth. I’m immediately thankful I had the wherewithal to pack it last night, as doing so this morning would’ve been a bitch.

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