Parker Sibling Series Box Set

by Leigh Ann Lunsford

  “Thanks, Kayleigh. I have it handled.” I wink at her.

  “What does that mean?” Cambree asks.

  “That your question?”

  She narrows her eyes at me and sighs. “I guess.”

  “I stopped by the trailer sales place on the way home. Double-wide will be delivered tomorrow, and until I decide if I am going to build right away, I will have my own place.”

  “Why do you need your own place?” she asks.

  “One question, yours is used up.”

  “God, you are such a prick.” I just smile at her, and she starts laughing.

  “Hit me with the home run, Brielle.” She just rolls her eyes at me.

  “You don’t need to hide your pain. No more drinking your sorrows away.”

  “That wasn’t a question.”

  “UGH! Fine, how are you going to deal with this?”

  “With what?”

  “You know what I mean, with Teryn leaving, you hurting, no closure . . . pick one, smart ass.”

  “Well, first I am going to get something to eat, then I am going to play soccer with my nephew, maybe swim some laps, then maybe go out tonight and see if anyone is in town. Tomorrow, I am going to move into my own space and live life.”

  “So you aren’t going to deal with it?”

  “What do you want me to say? Yes, it hurts; yes I am mad as hell and confused. But when I went to bed last night I swore it would be the last time I ever felt that pain, so I am going to move forward with my life and enjoy it.”

  “You mean when you passed out last night?”

  “Does it matter, and you are way over your allotment of questions.”

  “Yes it matters, Dustin. Don’t do this to yourself or to us.”

  “I am not doing anything to you, B. Let it go. Shit.”

  “We love you.”

  “I know, and it helps, I promise.” I leave them in the room and head out. I need to eat and leave them to discuss and analyze my every word. Then whichever one they nominate will come and talk to me alone, hoping for a breakthrough. They forget I was raised with them, I know how they operate. I am betting it will be Addison, because she would be the least confrontational and make me feel comfortable. I give it a few hours, and then ‘Operation Get Dustin to Talk’ begins.

  Chapter 13

  Mitch

  Dustin walked out and grabbed CJ and told us he was taking him to the high school to kick the soccer ball around. I have to admit, I like seeing him in the land of the living. I saw him leave with the bottle of whisky and was praying we wouldn’t get a phone call that he had hurt himself or others driving drunk. I will have a talk with him about that, whether he wants to hear it or not.

  All of the guys head into the house after a little while of shooting the shit, avoiding any conversation about Dustin. We have all been where he is, young and embarking on new journeys, but none of us had the Teryn aspect to deal with. When we reach the living room the girls have straws in front of them arguing who is going to draw first and who gets to hold them. What are they doing now?

  “What game you playing?” Colby asks them.

  “Drawing straws for who is going to talk to Dustin,” Brielle answers, like that is perfectly acceptable.

  “Didn’t you just talk to him?” Colby is confused. We all are. We know they were waiting to talk to him when we went outside with the kids, and then he came out later, giving them plenty of time to grill him.

  “Yes, but he was so unfair. He let us each ask one question, and decided if he would answer. I asked him a question, that was not my intended one, and he called me out on it,” Cambree whines.

  I look to Kayleigh, “Hey, don’t look at me. I didn’t ask him anything. Just told him we all love him and are here for him.” I wink at her. That is my girl. I sure am thankful she doesn’t have the personality of those three, because I would be bat shit crazy.

  “Oh, suck-up. I swear, you need to spend some more time with us,” Brielle challenges her.

  “I vote no on that suggestion,” I speak up quickly. Hell to the no. “Seriously, if you talked to him, he answered you, what is with the straws?”

  “We don’t think we got through to him. He bought a double-wide to put on his land, and he says he is dealing. He didn’t tell us how, what his plans are, nothing,” Addison informs us.

  “Addy, let him be. He didn’t shut you out, but you have to let him deal with this, in his way, in his time. Damn girl, he gave you what you wanted, but it still isn’t good enough. Do you want to tie his shoes and wipe his ass for him?” Tyler says.

  “No, asswipe. We bought him Velcro. That tying shoes every ten minutes is seriously a pain in the ass.” She smirks at him.

  “B, stop right now. You are going to push him further and further away, then you will be miserable and have anger issues, and we all know that is not the best mixture,” Colby begs. He has the toughest job of us all. She is a fucking full-time job.

  “Camy, you too. Enough. Did you like everyone getting in our business last year? No, you didn’t. You struggled to be your own person, so give him the same consideration.” Max gets away with murder when it comes to her. Ever since he said something about ‘snake’ and ‘charmer’ I don’t ask. Some things a big brother does not need to know.

  “I will talk to him. I won’t fish for information, but there are a couple things that I need to say to him. If he opens up, fine. If not, I won’t push. Oh, and if he doesn’t want me to share, I won’t.” I get plenty of glares from the girls.

  Brielle tells me in a very scary voice, “Remember yard wars? Your house may need to be christened. Isn’t it about finished?” The smile she flashed me would make grown men run scared, and hearing some stories from the times I missed, it has made Tyler run many of times. Who am I kidding? He is still terrified of her.

  “Mitch, please think it through. I am not cleaning up roosters, dildos, and freak flags,” Kayleigh tells me.

  “Oh, you think that is what it will entail? Oh no, baby, I get better each time. Just ask Colby.” She shoots us a wink and walks out of the room.

  “Baby, it will be fine. I promise.” I know I am bullshitting her, she knows it, too, so it makes it okay. I send a quick text to Dustin asking him if we can talk.

  The response I get back is uncanny.

  Dustin: Sure, did you draw the short straw? I thought for sure it would be Addy. Welcome to the family, again.

  I am still laughing hysterically when Kayleigh takes my phone, and after reading it she hugs me, and whispers in my ear, “You are a good man Mitch Baird, and I am the luckiest woman alive, because you are mine. I am so proud of you.” This is what a home should be, surrounded by unconditional love, blood-related or chosen, it doesn’t matter. Love and loyalty are all that matters. The rest will work itself out.

  Dustin walks in my house, casual and relaxed, and throws me off guard. He shakes his head and shrugs his shoulder. “So is this your initiation into Parker Drama 101? I thought for sure you had experienced enough of that.”

  “Funny, D. No, I volunteered. You can open up if you want, but I am going to cut to the chase. If I ever see you, or hear of you drinking and driving again, I will kick your ass. I saw you get in your car with a whiskey bottle, clearly after you had been drinking. That shit isn’t cool, and I have a badge. I am your brother first in this case, but next time you may not be so lucky. This is the only warning you will get from me. Do I make myself clear?”

  He actually looks embarrassed. “Yes, I get you. It was dumb, and I knew it when I did it, that is why I pulled over to the nearest motel. Sorry, Mitch. I didn’t think of you being a cop. I wasn’t thinking of anything but my own pain, to tell you the truth.”

  “I get that, and it is expected. But I don’t want you putting yourself, or anyone else in danger. It is stupid. Just don’t do it again. Now, as your brother, you okay?”

  “No, but I am trying to be. Does that make sense? I tell myself if I keep going, act like I am not dying
inside, then eventually it will become true.”

  “Understandable, but honestly I don’t know if it works like that. I’m here for you, if you want to sit in silence, or talk, I will always be here.”

  “Thanks. I need to figure out what I am going to do in the long run in my life and move forward. Put the past where it belongs and move on. I am going to take it day by day, and hopefully it will come to me.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Do you need anything?”

  “Yeah, can you keep the Scary Sisters off my ass?”

  “Nope,” and he is being truthful. “I hear you are getting your own space. I personally am all for that. Distance will be good, they have to see you are growing up, witness you making good choices, and let you breathe.”

  “Please, one of them will bring me dinner every night, send Amelia to pick up after me, and make up reasons in between to stop by. I am waiting on the first time they come over and there is a girl there. Holy shit, that will be priceless.”

  “You ready for that? Is that a smart decision?”

  “What? To be with girls? I am not going to be in a relationship with them, other than bedroom Olympics. No commitment, no feelings, except ecstasy,” I tell him, laughing.

  “Do you think fucking your way through the state of Tennessee is going to help you?”

  “I don’t know, but I will let you know if I need to move into North Carolina to make myself feel better.”

  “Okay, I get it Dustin. So you are going back to your man-whoring ways, and that is it? You aren’t going to deal with this, talk to us, or let yourself get over this relationship?”

  “There was no relationship, Mitch. If there were she wouldn’t have left like she did. I don’t consider it man-whoring if we both are up front about what we want. What happened to you not getting in my business unless I wanted you to?”

  “I just feel like you are making a mistake, and there are so many things you don’t know about Teryn’s life. Hell, I don’t know all of it, but I do know some, and it isn’t pretty.”

  “Are you going to share?”

  “I can’t, that is her story.”

  “Right, well I am about to write my own story, my way.” He is so far from okay. I don’t know what will happen. His story is going to be filled with empty beer bottles, whisky bottles, and used condoms.

  “Your sisters are going to ask me about this conversation, how do you want me to handle that? It is up to you whether I share my thoughts.”

  “I have no issues with anything you tell them. It isn’t anything I didn’t say to them this afternoon. They just choose not to listen. I have nothing to hide, my life isn’t over it just got derailed for a bit. It is time to get this bitch back on the tracks and move forward.”

  We watch a little NASCAR, and he heads out. I send out a group text so my phone will quit blowing up.

  Mitch: He just left. He isn’t okay, but you have to let him be. He isn’t going to listen and has decided man-whoring and booze will fill his heart. When he crashes, it will be hard, and we all need to brace.

  There wasn’t really anything else I could say. I lock up, turn out the lights, stop by and kiss Lukas before going to lose myself in my wife.

  Chapter 14

  Teryn

  To say I was scared to death that I about made myself sick with worry was not an understatement. When the cab pulled up outside the facility I could barely stand, my legs were shaking so badly. The building didn’t look like crazy people were housed in there; it was very inviting with a light brick front and a beautiful awning. It was almost like a quaint hotel. I noticed as we walked through the doors, they weren’t locked from the outside and didn’t lock behind us. I started to relax a little bit, but not completely. My counselor went and handled the check-in part of registration, and I was led to my new home. It wasn’t a small white room with a cot as I expected. It had a nice double bed, very relaxing atmosphere, and was all my own. It did have a lock on the door, but it was for my privacy.

  I took the first day to get acclimated, get a tour, and meet the staff. The next day I had a few group sessions where they allowed me to just listen to others speak. It was very enlightening to hear about what other people had overcome. I had actual hope. Then the third day came, and they outlined what I could expect.

  CBT is very in depth. It is thought challenging, systemic desensitization, commentary therapy, and anxiety therapy. Basically I was going to break myself down, to build myself back up correctly. That isn’t the analogy they used, but it works. I tend to think negatively because that is all I was exposed to, so I need to learn how to have reasonable thinking. I tend to perceive things worse than they actually are. The therapist explained that because I repeatedly lived through negativity, that is what I have come to expect. We are working on that first. I will have to question my thoughts, see if I have any basis to jump to the negative conclusion, and once I identify if they are irrational and negative, I will learn to replace them with accurate and positive reasoning. She gave me chants or quotes that I can repeat to myself to calm me when my anxiety is bad. I basically will have to question myself, and she said I will learn insight about who I really am. It all seems so daunting.

  We are beginning the thought-challenging first. She didn’t want to add any others until I learn to perceive things correctly. If I don’t have that process all other therapy won’t work and could even set me back. I am glad I don’t have to open up right away, but she did warn me that once we have a grip on that, I will go through extensive therapy. I will have some tools to cope with it, and I have to be open and honest, so we can work through that. That scares the living shit out of me. I don’t want to remember it all, but I have to.

  Not a day goes by that I don’t think of Dustin or the rest of the gang. I think about him several times a day, wondering if he hates me, if he understands I did this for him. I doubt he will ever forgive me, but I promise when I am better I will seek him out and explain it to all of them. I will get better, and I promise myself I will do everything they ask of me here. The life I was living, well it wasn’t a life. I was trapped inside hell, and by not letting myself out of it, my dad was winning.

  As the days turn into a week, I feel I am making great progress. When I actually recognize the negative thoughts as irrational and hurtful, I realize I am punishing myself every day for something I had no control over. Control is another trigger with me and while learning these exercises and thought processes, I am learning I have been controlling and distorting everyone’s words and behaviors around me. That is no different than what was done to me. See, we do as we were taught, and it is up to me to break that cycle. It has been freeing and exhilarating, but at the same time terrifying and eye opening. I realize that unless I believe in myself, nobody else will. So I start the day every day telling myself I am one step closer to being amazing, and it may sound cliché but it is what I need.

  Before I realize it, the third week has begun, and I don’t feel like a prisoner, and think I am actually looking forward to my therapy sessions where I have to talk about what happened to me all those years. I can finally get it out and not worry about being judged, because I don’t need to concern myself with the opinions of others. My opinion about myself is the only one I have to live with.

  “Teryn, today we are going to talk as long as you want, about whatever you want, and we stop when you want. Remember you are in control here.” They start every conversation like that, reminding the patient that this is his or her choice, not taking any control away. I love it.

  I sit and try to recall my earliest memories and begin letting the words fly out.

  “I remember being maybe four years old and my father left me home alone. I didn’t know what happened to my mom, and I asked about her every day. One day she was there and the next she wasn’t. I don’t know if I remember her, or if I imagine it all. I sometimes think I remember her stroking my hair at night time, reading me stories, taking care of me, but I can never see her face in these
memories, so I don’ think they are real. Anyway, the day my father was leaving I was having a bad morning. I wanted my mommy, and couldn’t understand why he never answered me. I knew it made him angry, but I didn’t understand why. I was four. I guess I was pitching what he later referred to as a tantrum, and he struck me across the face. Hard. That was the first day he ever left a visible bruise. From that day on, he didn’t care about hiding them anymore. It was like the beast in him had been unleashed, and the longer the bruises lasted, the harder he tried to beat his own record. Nobody but him saw me besides the housekeeper, and she wouldn’t dare speak out against him. You know what? That makes me angry. I was an innocent child and scared, but she was an adult. She knew what was happening every day, and never once did she try and help me.” I stop for a breath and look at my therapist.

  “I understand your reaction, but she was afraid. You admit how violent your father was. If she tried to help you, and he caught her, what would he do to her?” I feel like she is defending her actions.

  “Kill her. But why are you making excuses for her. She could have told someone, risked something to help a child.” I realize getting angry feels bad. I had always resolved myself to not feeling anger because I couldn’t change it.

  “Do you know she didn’t? Your father is a powerful man. Do you think anyone would have done anything? I am not defending her, but I am pointing out that fear makes us do strange things. Cowardly things. Think about some of the actions you have made out of fear. It isn’t always black and white. I am trying to get you to see gray in certain areas. Nobody lives without what-if’s and regrets, but how you handle them determines the person you become.”

  I nod my head because she makes perfect sense. I think things are either right or wrong, and I lay a lot of blame on myself, but I need to realize that I am not to blame. There are gray areas in life, and you have to add color to it.