Rough Hand (Rock Bridge Ruffians, Book One)

by Olivia Chase

  He looks up at me, caution in his eyes. “Where?”

  “To the bar.”

  His brows knit. “Nah, I’m good.”

  Cade’s shoulder hits my back. I know what he’s saying without him saying a word. The ass. I clear my throat. “Look. I know I’ve been…”

  “Difficult,” Cade helpfully supplies.

  I shoot him a glare over my shoulder then turn back to Tommy. “In a mood,” I finish. “Let’s go blow off some steam.”

  “Alexa isn’t coming back, is she,” Tommy asks me in an even tone.

  I shake my head.

  He studies my face. He must see something in my eyes, because he gives a decisive nod and stands. Wipes his hands on the rag nearby. “Okay. I could use a good drunk night anyway. My last hangover was too long ago.”

  We walk out the front door together, and I lock up behind us. This isn’t going to solve any problems, I know that. But I need a break from everything that’s threatening to swallow me whole. One night of getting stupid drunk and letting all that shit go.

  Alexa

  I lay on the couch, listlessly flicking through Netflix for something to watch. Nothing is appealing to me, which isn’t surprising given the shitty mood I’m in, so I turn it to Pandora and listen to music.

  My phone buzzes.

  As it has for the past few days since I left the shop, left Levi, my heart gives a painful little skip. I consider for a moment not answering it, since I’m not particularly in the mood to talk to anyone, but decide to see who’s texting me.

  When I see Kayla’s name and read her text, I feel my first smile in days.

  Where the hell have you been, lady? You fell off the face of the earth, lol. Is it martini time?? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?

  God, she’s awesome. I feel a twinge of guilt when I think about how I haven’t really reached out to her much lately. It’s kind of her to check on me anyway.

  I type back, Shitstorm central here. Martinis are a must.

  Oh, no, she writes. Guy problems?

  Guy and job. Stupid me. Tears threaten to spill out. I blink them back.

  I will definitely kick ass. And…don’t know if this helps, but we can take you on part-time if you need work.

  Her offer makes my heart squeeze so hard with affection and warmth that I almost can’t breathe. I may take you up on that. TY

  XO of course. Busy tonight? Let’s hang.

  I’m free. I give a coarse laugh. I’m free every night now. And every day. Because I can’t seem to muster the courage or energy to face Levi again and go back to that job. When I walked out on him, I walked out on the shop, too. I lost it all.

  We continue texting back and forth a few minutes to set a time and location for where to meet tonight. We decide on Foley’s, a sports bar in town. I’m guessing Levi won’t be there, since he loves Outlaws, and I heard there’s some bad blood between the two places.

  I guess I should get my ass off the couch and take a shower. I’ve been lying here like a lump for far too long.

  I let Levi into my heart. I took a risk and it didn’t work out. People get their heart broken every day, right? I’m not special in that regard.

  Somehow, shockingly, the thoughts don’t quite make me feel better. I let myself think about what my dad might tell me if he were here. He’d hug me, push a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream into my hands, and we’d watch a cheesy horror movie.

  He’d remind me I’m alive. That Levi broke my heart, yes, but I’m still kicking. That I deserve the best, and I shouldn’t settle for someone not willing to meet me, to compromise, to be as open and vulnerable as I am.

  God, the ache in my chest right now is more than I can manage. I swallow hard several times to push back the sorrow and loss I feel. I miss my dad so much. I’m so fucking angry that he was stolen from me. By my mom, someone I realized I never knew at all.

  I can’t be in a relationship where I’m sideswiped by a reality I never expected. No more. Never again. And Levi was never gonna be the person who opened up to me, despite how much I wanted him to.

  My heart hurts, yes. But it’s beating. I’m strong. I’ve gotten through worse. I’ll get through this too.

  I get up. I take a shower, doing extra self-care today with an expensive body wash I splurged on that makes my skin feel silky smooth. I paint my fingernails and toenails a bold red, I take my time putting on makeup. I go through the movements and tell myself it’s okay if they aren’t making me happy the way I’d hoped they would. I’ll get there eventually.

  I hear the front door open, and there are voices coming through the door of my bedroom. I crack it open, since I only have on a thin robe. “Jenna? Morgan?”

  Jenna walks toward me and whispers, “Morgan brought her boyfriend over.” Her eyes are wary as she looks at me. “I think they’re high.”

  White-hot fury rips through me. “I’ll take care of this.”

  Jenna nods and retreats to her room.

  I quickly toss on a pair of jeans and shirt, then go into the living room. Sure enough, Morgan and some greasy-haired guy in a long shirt and baggy jeans are sitting on the couch, giggling and eating Doritos. When I look at their faces, I can see the telltale redness in their eyes, the way Morgan won’t even look at me.

  She knows I know.

  “Get out,” I tell him. “Right now.”

  “Or you could sit down and join us,” he says in a cocky voice. “We’re just eating. Want some?” He offers the bag to me.

  Morgan snickers, and I shoot her a hot glare until she stops.

  “If you aren’t out of this house in five seconds, I’m calling the fucking police,” I say to him. “You got a minor intoxicated with an illegal substance. I’ll have you arrested.”

  “I’m not leaving unless she says I need to,” he says stubbornly, his eyes narrow into a glare.

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

  Morgan doesn’t look at either of us, her fingers clenched in her lap. Her eyes are wide, wild, as she looks around the room.

  This isn’t the way for her to escape her emotional pain.

  I’ve had enough. I grab the guy by the collar and yank him off the couch. He grouses but gets up, turns around. “Fine, call me later, babe.” He strolls out the front door, leaving it wide open.

  I slam it behind him and spin toward Morgan, who has her arms wrapped around herself now. “Okay, this is over, Morgan. Your self-destructiveness is done. Either dump that guy, or find somewhere else to live.” The words hurt me to say, but I can’t keep going through this. If she isn’t happy here, she can live with one of our other relatives.

  She rips her gaze up to me. “What? You’re kicking me out?”

  “No, I’m not. I’m giving you a choice.” I step closer to her and glare down, hands on hips. “You really think it’s a good idea, exposing Jenna to this kind of shit? You’ve taken a sharp nosedive since we moved here. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re not doing homework. I’m sure you’re cutting classes too, given the type of person he is—I’m just waiting to get a call from school about your poor performance.” My jaw is so tight it hurts. “I’m trying to help you, but I can’t if you don’t help yourself.”

  “I don’t need help. I need you off my ass.” Her voice is surly, the emotion also reflected in her eyes.

  “Fine.” I grab my phone and go to my contacts. “Pick which relative you want to live with. I’m done. I can’t deal with this anymore.”

  She rips it out of my hand and glares at me, then down at the phone. Runs down the list of my contacts. Her fingers hover over the screen, then she sighs. Drops the phone in her lap. “This is so fucked up. I can’t believe you’d actually kick me out.” Now she sounds defeated, her voice wobbly.

  I take the phone and sit on the chair facing her. “Morgan, listen to me. For once. Please.”

  She looks over at me, her eyes red not just from the weed, but from tears welling. She nods.

  “Sis, I know you’r
e hurting. I am, too.” Emotion is filling my chest, and I can almost feel it rolling off her in waves.

  “We never talk about them,” she whispers in a choked voice. “It’s like they never existed. But I miss Dad so much. Mom too, even if it’s wrong to.”

  My eyes burn now, too, and I feel tears sliding down my cheeks.

  Jenna cautiously walks into the living room and takes a seat beside Morgan.

  “It’s not wrong to miss her,” I say to her. “I know how you feel. And it’s my fault that we haven’t dealt with it right. I thought by bringing you guys here for a fresh start, we could leave the past behind. But the past doesn’t work that way. You have to face it to let it go. I’ve learned that now.” I think about Levi and all the emotional shit he’s carrying that I have no idea about. I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want my sisters to, either. “I want you to stay here, Morgan. But you can’t keep running wild. We have to pull together so we can all make it.”

  Jenna nods. “I agree with Alexa,” she says softly.

  I look at her then, shaking my head. “I know you’re not sleeping, Jenna. And you’re wasting away in front of my eyes. I’m going to get you in with a doctor. And we’re all going to family counseling. That’s not an option.” I turn my steady gaze to them both and wipe the tears from my cheeks. My conviction is filling me now. I know this is what I need to do to help them. “I won’t keep doing this, butting heads with you guys in order to get us in a better place. If you’re not happy, we’ll find somewhere else you can live.” The thought of them going elsewhere makes my chest throb with a stabbing pain, but this isn’t just about me.

  They didn’t get a chance to choose to live here. I’m giving them the chance now. They need to feel empowered as much as I do.

  Jenna nods. “I… Okay. I’ll talk to someone. And I’ll try to do better.”

  I reach over and squeeze her free hand, then look at Morgan.

  She sighs heavily. “I know I should break up with him. It’s just…he helped me forget about how sad I am since they died.”

  A tension that’s been sitting on my shoulders since I moved here feels like it release from my muscles. I exhale, give them both a small but genuine smile. “I’m sorry we’ve gone through this. And I’m also sorry we haven’t talked about Mom and Dad. I don’t want to forget them.”

  Morgan’s eyes fill with tears, and she sniffles. “Maybe we can plan a trip back to bring flowers to their graves?”

  I bite my lower lip, my heart spilling over with everything I’m feeling. I nod. “I think they’d love that. What do you think, Jenna?”

  She gives a shy smile. “I’d like that. I…I don’t know how to forgive Mom for what happened. But I want to stop hurting over this.”

  “Me, too,” I say.

  “Me, too,” Morgan adds.

  I lean over and hug my sisters. We’re not whole yet. It’s going to take a long time before we start to feel better. But finally, finally, I feel like we’re on the right path.

  This has been a long time coming.

  I pop in a CD, crank up the air conditioning, and head up the highway. My hands are trembling a little, but I try not to let it rattle me.

  I’m heading back to my home town. Back where my whole life changed.

  Where my Aunt Marianne lives.

  It’s time to speak to her face to face, not through lawyers, not through hostility and anger. I need to confront her on why she’s keeping us from the life insurance. Make her understand that my sisters need it. We’re not going to use it for frivolous spending. And since I’m not working at the shop anymore, I don’t have a steady source of income.

  I have to convince her to help us.

  It’s an easy ride, pretty much all highway. I pass familiar scenery as I get closer to town.

  It’s strange, how everything feels different. It’s not like we’ve been gone for years. But even months away has given me a different perspective. I expected to feel a lot of anxiety and fear when I got here. But instead, there’s just a lingering sadness and a feeling of disconnect.

  This place isn’t my home anymore.

  I turn off the highway and take the familiar roads through town. Pass places laden with memories. But in a way, they feel like someone else’s memories, not mine.

  Still, I don’t go near the neighborhood where our old house was. The house that is sitting there, waiting for someone to buy it—the attorney said he’d let me know when there was an offer. I’m betting it’ll be a while. Not many people in town want to buy a place where someone was murdered.

  I bypass the area completely and drive to my aunt’s house. She’s just a few miles away. My heart gives a sick thud as I spot her driveway just down the street.

  You can do this, I say to myself. Be strong. This is for your sisters. Morgan and Jenna need to focus on healing and on school. Having this money will make a huge difference in my sisters’ lives.

  And it’ll help me, too. Because I have a lot of healing to do as well. Healing and figuring out where to go from here. What to do with my life. I like Rock Bridge, and even if it means I may run into Levi from time to time, I’ll risk it to settle there and make a life for myself.

  Once I steel my nerves, that is. Once I won’t feel raw just thinking his name.

  I pull into her driveway and shut the car off. As expected, she’s home, her car right in front of mine. Aunt Marianne’s husband makes a lot of money at his job, so she’s never had to work.

  She doesn’t even need the money.

  I gather as much inner strength as I can, exit the car, and head to her door. Suck in a shaky breath and knock.

  After a moment, the door opens. She looks older since I left, more tired, with heavier lines around her eyes and mouth.

  Her eyes connect with mine, and her jaw drops. “Alexa?”

  “Can I come in?”

  She exhales slowly. I’m waiting for her to tell me to leave, tell me she never wants to see or speak to me again.

  But instead she just sighs. “Sure.” Opens the door wider to let me by.

  I step into her house. Everything is still the same, down to the doilies on the end tables and the knickknacks in the curio cabinet. As kids, my sisters and I loved standing in front of the cabinet, pointing out which porcelain ballerinas we loved the most.

  I haven’t been here since my parents died.

  She waves me toward the couch. “Would you like something to drink?”

  Her voice is formal, stiff.

  “A water would be great,” I say politely. I rest my hands in my lap, trying not to fidget.

  She brings me a glass of water and perches in a nearby chair. “Okay, I’m guessing this isn’t a social call.” Her voice is a little frosty.

  I stiffen. “No, it’s not. You know why I’m here.”

  Aunt Marianne’s lips purse. She exhales through her nostrils.

  “I need you to drop the claim for the life insurance,” I say bluntly. Best to get it out there in the open.

  “I’m not going to do that. Your mother murdered my brother.” She spits the words out. “He was a kind man, a loving man, and he was slaughtered by her.”

  “We’re his children,” I protest, putting the glass down on the coffee table. “We need that money to live. Don’t you think we’re hurting, too? We lost both of our parents.”

  “And I lost my only brother!” Aunt Marianne stands up. “I can’t believe you came here to ask me for that money. Months have passed. I haven’t heard from any of you. And then out of the blue, here you are with your hand out. Unbelievable.” Her eyes are filled with fire.

  And with something else.

  Hurt.

  I try to stem my angry reaction. To take a step back and see things through her eyes. To understand why she’s so mad. “You’re right. That was terrible of me,” I admit. “You’ve been grieving a lost family member too. And he really was the best man I ever knew.” My voice breaks on the last sentence. I look down in my lap, at my finge
rs twisted together. “Dad loved you. He talked all the time about how you guys got into trouble as kids.” My throat tightens and I try to swallow. “I’m sorry I stayed away. I was mad. And hurt. But I should have been here for you too.”

  When I look up at my aunt, her shoulders are sagged, and the corners of her mouth are turned down. She staring bleakly at me. “All these months, I’ve just been furious over his murder. Furious that she took him from us. Robbed him of a chance to live.”

  The word murder said aloud makes me cringe, but it’s true. Her brother was murdered. My dad was murdered. There’s no soft way to put it.

  “What my mother did was so horrible. She took him from all of us—and we needed him too,” I say, and it’s the truth. My voice sticks in my throat. “I…I miss him every second of every day. Sometimes it feels like I can’t even breathe, I hurt so bad.”

  My Aunt seems to break as she takes a deeper, shaky gasp of air. “I felt like getting money was the way to fight back.” Her voice wobbles. “I was going to donate it to a charity in his name.”

  Tears well in my eyes. My throat is tight and scratchy from months of unshed tears. I haven’t even begun to cry enough for their deaths. Haven’t even begun to grieve them. “I’m so sorry you’re hurting,” I manage to say. Then the tears come, and a hiccupped sob escapes my throat. I clap a hand over my mouth, but another sob comes. Then another. “I…I miss…I don’t know what to do. I’m just…I’m trying to take care of Morgan and Jenna and I’m so scared and tired.” Everything in me that I’ve pushed down starts to bubble out now. The sobs become one long stream of crying. I hunch over, unable to stop it.

  I’m so tired of being strong.

  I’m so tired of keeping my chin up.

  I’m so…tired.

  I lost Mom and Dad. I lost Levi. I have so precious little left now. And I feel so fucking alone.

  The couch cushion sags beside me. Arms fold around me, hesitant at first, then Aunt Marianne tugs me against her. “Shh,” she sooths, rubbing my hair with gentle strokes. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m sorry. I get lost in my own grief and I forget how much you guys were hurt by this, too.”