HERO: An Unfit Hero Novel

by Faiman, Hayley

  Lindie nods. “I’m sorry I practically ran off. I was, it was difficult to see someone else in my shoes. To be that person on the outside looking in.”

  “Our babies will be related,” Channing says with a nod.

  Lindie shakes her head once. “No. Your baby is with that Rylan guy. Mine doesn’t have a father. I’d prefer to keep it that way until I find someone that will take her on as his own.”

  Channing makes a noise in the back of her throat, and I think she’s going to protest, but instead, she doesn’t.

  “I understand that. Rylan, my husband, is this baby’s father,” she states. “If you ever need anything, please, never hesitate.”

  Lindie lifts her chin proudly, her eyes moving from Channing to me, then back again before she speaks. “We’re good, me and her. We’ll be good, but I appreciate the offer. Maybe their paths will cross, maybe not, but I say we let the evil from their bio-fathers die away never to be known again.”

  I couldn’t agree more. I feel the same way about my own father and uncle. If I never saw them again, it would be too damn soon. Channing makes her way over to Lindie, giving her a tight hug, then the girl and toddler turn and are gone.

  “You okay?” I ask Channing.

  She gulps. “I saw her a while ago, she said something, and I just knew she was part of the whole mess. But she left before I could ask her anything, I’m glad that I know.”

  The rest of the trip is bittersweet. We’re both lost inside of our own heads and quickly finish writing everything down. Heading out of the store, my eyes scan the parking lot for that truck, and thankfully I don’t see it, this time. I’m beginning to think that it could just be part of my imagination after all. I need Wyatt to come home soon. I’m doing nothing but freaking myself out.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  EXETER

  My phone dances on my nightstand, waking me up with a start. Sitting straight up, I reach for the device and quickly slide my thumb across the screen without even looking at the name. It doesn’t matter who it is, at this hour, it can’t be anything good.

  “Sugar.” His voice comes through the line on a crackle.

  My heart slams against my chest, except it’s no longer with fear, it’s now with anticipation and excitement. Inhaling deeply through my nose, I let it out my mouth, closing my eyes as I hear him call my nickname for a second time.

  “I’m here, Wyatt,” I whisper.

  “Good to hear your voice,” he says, his voice sounding strained.

  “Are you okay?”

  He makes a noise that I can’t quite decipher. Then I hear his deep voice through the crackling line once again. “I’m good, sugar. You taking care of yourself?”

  “I’m fine, don’t worry about me. Do you know when you’ll be home?” I ask in a rush.

  He clears his throat. Then I hear his deep voice rumble. “Don’t know, Exeter. Maybe in a week, maybe three. I won’t know until my truck is headed out of town. Wish I could give you a better timeline,” he explains.

  I nod my head as if he can see me. “MawMaw is all settled. I took Emily’s things to her last week. We’re going back to see her today,” I ramble, attempting to tell him about my day. “Are you eating, sleeping?”

  He chuckles softly, my heart skipping a beat at the sound. I hadn’t realized how much I truly missed him until this moment. His voice surrounds me like a warm comfortable blanket, soft and fluffy, it feels like home—my home.

  “I’m sleeping enough. You be careful drivin’ down to see Emily today, yeah?”

  “I will.”

  There is a moment of silence, then I hear his mumbles and I know that he probably has to go. I don’t want him to. I wish that he could just stay on the line, even if he didn’t say anything at all, I wish that I could just hear him breathe. I realize how creepy that sounds, but I don’t even care. I am creepy when it comes to wanting him—to needing him.

  “I gotta get back to work, sugar. I’ll try and call you later tonight when I’m done for the day,” he rumbles.

  Sucking in a breath, I nod, then speak because he can’t see my nods. “Maybe we can FaceTime?” I ask.

  “Fuck yeah, what I wouldn’t give to see that pretty face of yours.”

  Smiling, I bite the corner of my lip. “Okay, Wyatt. Talk to you soon?”

  “Damn straight, sugar.”

  The line goes dead, but I don’t move. I’m frozen in position. Closing my eyes, I imagine his voice calling me sugar all over again. It sends a chill over my entire body. Setting my phone to the side, I lie down and stare at the ceiling.

  I have to get up in a few hours for the day, but the phone call was worth the missed sleep. Hearing his voice for the first time in days was worth the lost sleep.

  Rolling to the side, I find the Safari app on my phone and look up something that I’ve been avoiding since Wyatt’s been gone. I look up the storm, the damage, the news reports, everything. I get lost in the articles, in the images that flash on my phone’s screen. It’s horrific, all of it.

  Then, as if the images of the children and animals being carried through flood waters aren’t enough, I chance looking up linemen and the hurricane. I see new footage of the men, climbing the poles without being in the safety of their bucket trucks. A whimper escapes my lips when I see electricity arc out in a bright blue wave in one video.

  Throwing my phone across the room, I decide that I’ll never look up images or video footage of line workers again. I have no desire to see them, to see the danger. I would rather live in a state of denial than know that at any given moment that electricity could find Wyatt and end his life.

  Slipping out of bed, I make my way toward the bathroom and shower. I’m still not used to this house. It’s so much bigger than anywhere I’ve ever lived. It’s like a giant mansion. I know in reality, to most that it isn’t, but to me, it’s gigantic.

  Once I’ve showered, I braid my wet hair, not wishing to fool with it for the day. Leaving my face bare of makeup, I tug on a pair of loose jeans and my favorite white t-shirt. With a yawn, I slip my feet into a pair of sandals, grab my purse and begin to head out for the day.

  Taking my first step outside, I feel a shiver roll through my entire body. I immediately feel that something is off. Gripping my keys in one hand, my phone in the other, I lock the front door.

  My eyes scan the area, hoping to see whatever has me feeling off. There is nothing out of place, not even the small branch that fell in the windstorm a couple nights ago. It’s exactly where it landed. Everything is exactly as it was the last time I looked around.

  “Stop being paranoid,” I whisper to myself.

  Sliding into the front seat of my car, I start the engine, then back out of the long drive. It doesn’t take me longer than twenty minutes to drive to MawMaw’s new place. Wyatt’s parents helped her get settled, along with Louis, Ford, Channing, and me just a week or so ago.

  She’s loving her new space, and I’m glad that I didn’t try to talk her into staying with me, this is really where she is thriving. She’s even more social now than she was before, and that does nothing but make me smile. She should be having the time of her life, and I’m glad that she’s found a place to do just that.

  Pulling into her small drive, I check my surroundings again, that feeling of being off has not faded, but it hasn’t intensified either. I try to shake it off, attributing it to my early morning call from Wyatt. I was stupid and watched all that video footage, I scared myself is what I did.

  “C’mon in, child. I have some breakfast for us. No sense us traveling on an empty stomach,” my grandma calls out from behind her screen door.

  My feet carry me quickly to her door, then inside. It already smells like her, the new paint smell has disappeared, and it’s been replaced with her, with the scent of MawMaw. There’s a plate with bacon, eggs, and toast waiting for me at her small dining room table.

  “You didn’t have to do all this,” I point out as I sit down.

  She
sets a cup of coffee in front of each of our plates before she sits across from me. “Know I didn’t, child. I still did it,” she announces.

  With a smile, I stab some eggs with my fork and together MawMaw and I have a nice breakfast before we leave to visit with Emily. I can’t help but think about my cousin.

  She’s making amazing strides, and honestly, I hope that she never moves back to Gallup or anywhere near here. She needs to heal and move on, to create a new life where the memories of her past won’t haunt her or continue to follow her, like mine seem to keep doing.

  WYATT

  Rylan has an extra pep to his step this morning. He should. He was able to talk to Channing, just like I was Exeter. I toss him a bag of breakfast sandwiches, our first hot meal in weeks. They’re only from McDonald’s, but they’re hot, and fuck if they don’t taste like little sausage sandwiches from heaven.

  “Fucking hell, these are so good,” Rylan moans.

  I grunt in agreement. “How’s Channing? The baby?” I ask.

  He nods, swallowing a bite of food. “They’re good. All she could talk about was Exeter and how much she’s been helpin’ her. Really appreciate that, man. More than you could know,” he says, his gaze finding mine and his eyes pinning me. “You’ve done a fuck’ve a lot for me, all of which I could never fucking repay,” he says.

  Shaking my head, I reach out for him, taking his shoulder with my hand, I give him a slight shake. “You don’t need to repay shit. Don’t want repayment anyhow. Only repayment I ever want is you two to live good, clean, happy lives. Give that baby all the goddamn love in the world, and make more of ‘em, too.”

  He chuckles, lifting his chin. “You know we will. You gonna give me some little cousins, too? Exeter gonna have your last name soon?” he asks.

  I think about his words. Think about what he’s flat out asking me. I want to say yes. It seems like the right answer to the question. I want her, I want to marry her, but babies. I don’t know if that’s really in my future or in hers.

  The only experience we have with them, with children, it isn’t in keeping them alive. I curse myself for thinking that way. I would love my own children, a whole house full, but is that what I really want? Is that what is really in store for me in the future? Fuck, I don’t know.

  “Wish I could answer that,” I mumble.

  Rylan shakes his head, he reaches out for the back of my neck, his fingers squeezing me there and giving me a gentle shake, much like I always do to his shoulder.

  “You can, Wyatt. You’re just scared. Exeter ain’t Sammi. I can see the way she looks at you.”

  “How’s that?” I ask.

  Rylan grins. “It’s the same way I look at Channing.” He shrugs, releasing my neck. I wait a moment, and thankfully he continues. “Like there’s no way on this earth a person that good, that clean, that fucking perfect could want someone as broken as me. Exeter is a broken soul, she deserves the goodness a man like you can give her. She deserves the love and laughter of her own family, too.”

  His words hit me like a goddamn ton of bricks. She does deserve that, all of that, but I’m not so sure that I’m this good, pure, man that can give it all to her. I’m broken too.

  Rylan clears his throat and my gaze lifts up to his. “You ain’t broken, Wyatt. A little bruised, maybe battered slightly. But trust me when I tell you that you ain’t broken, not like me, not like her. She can heal your bruises, just like you can patch her broken.”

  He doesn’t say anything else, he turns and walks away toward his truck. We need to get started, the harder we work, the earlier we get to leave this place. I’m frozen in my spot though. My mind is turning a million miles an hour just thinking about nothing but his words.

  Am I just bruised?

  My phone rings in my pocket. Without thinking, without looking, I pick it up. “Hello?”

  “I saw the news, knew you’d be there. I wanted to check on you,” a familiar voice murmurs through the line.

  “Am I broken?” I ask, demanding an answer.

  The line goes quiet for a moment, then I hear her clear her throat. “You never were, Wyatt. You were hurt, and rightfully so. But being hurt by one stupid teenage girl doesn’t mean you were ever broken. You’re a good man, always have been, even when you hated me.”

  “I’m in love,” I blurt.

  There’s a breath of silence, then I hear her small intake of breath. “I’m so glad, I doubt she deserves everything that you are, Wyatt.”

  “Who would?” I ask.

  She hums. I can practically see the small tip of her lips in a coy smile. I don’t even know where she moved, and I don’t ask. I don’t need to know. Our time together is over, it really should have ended fifteen years ago.

  “Nobody, Wyatt. You’re one of the best men that I know. There isn’t a woman out there who is deserving of you. I just hope that she is everything you’re looking for.”

  “She’s pretty special,” I admit.

  “Be good to one another. I won’t call you again, not now that you’ve found your way out of your own head.”

  “How do you know that I have?”

  She laughs softly. “I can hear it in your voice, Wyatt. Be good to her.”

  The line is dead. I think about scrolling through my contacts and finding her name again, but I don’t. Sammi wants to be left to her new life, just as she wants to leave me to mine. I can’t hold that against her, not ever. In fact, I forgive her. There’s a lightness in my chest at the thought. I truly forgive her.

  “Wy, you ready to get started?” Rylan calls out.

  I lift my head, looking across the two trucks until I find him hanging out his window. A slow smile appears on my lips.

  “Yeah, I am,” I call out.

  Except I’m not talking about work, not entirely. I’m ready to get started in my new life. Really fucking ready, and that includes every aspect. Marriage, babies, all of it.

  It’s as if I needed that call from Sammi, that silent permission from her. I shouldn’t have, Christ, I’m a fucking man, but I can admit it, at least to myself—I needed it.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  EXETER

  Emily wraps her arms around me in a hug. I return the gesture, sighing when I feel the extra weight she’s put on over the past couple of months. She needed it, every pound, desperately. Releasing her, I take a step back.

  “I’ll come by in a couple weeks?” I ask.

  She lifts her chin, a slow smile appearing on her lips. Her cheeks are round, her eyes clear and bright, she looks like she did as a kid. She looks better than she did as a kid, she finally looks healthy. Lifting my hand, I wave as she agrees to see me in a couple of weeks.

  MawMaw takes a step toward her, but I make my way to the car, giving them a few moments together. They have a special bond. They aren’t related by blood, but I know they both feel like family.

  Sometimes our blood family is worthless, but the people we find along the way, they mean more than blood ever could. That is MawMaw for Emily and Emily for MawMaw.

  A few minutes later, MawMaw is sitting in the passenger seat of my car. The drive back home is silent. It’s a comfortable silence, but that’s the way it always is when we leave Emily’s. We’re both lost in thought, and lost in the past.

  I try not to think about my childhood, but it never fails, that’s what happens. Inhaling a deep breath, I pull up to the curb of MawMaw’s and she waves me off as I begin to turn the engine off.

  “Go on home, I’m going to take a nice long rest,” she murmurs.

  “You’ll call if you need me?” I ask.

  She looks back at me, sadness swimming in her eyes. She’s thinking about how she couldn’t save Emily all those years she suffered. She’s swimming in the regret of her hands being tied. MawMaw may feel like Emily’s grandmother, but when it came to the facts, she wasn’t, therefore she couldn’t take her the way she did me.

  The guilt she feels for being forced to keep Emily in that environmen
t for so long eats at her, constantly. I know that it does. She silently exits the car and I watch her walk slowly toward her front door, she disappears inside before I pull away from the curb.

  Making my way toward home, I let out a sigh as I turn the radio up slightly. Home. It is my home too. Wyatt’s and mine, but mine just the same. I never thought I would have a real home, a place with a man who truly loved me, but I’ve found it.

  The closer I drive, the more uneasy my stomach feels. I shove the feeling down, refusing to let it surface. I will not let my fears of the past take over my future—I refuse. I will fight it, and in the end, I will prevail—I always have.

  Wyatt and I will have a beautiful life, one of love and happiness, and if we’re lucky—babies. I want them, a whole house full. I want to give them love and life, a beautiful life, one in the country surrounded by good family and better friends. They’ll have Channing and Rylan, Ford and Louis, then they’ll have real grandparents, ones that are dreams come true.

  All the while, they’ll also have a real father, one who loves them the right way and can show the boys how to be men, and the girls how they should be treated by the men in their future.

  They will not have hurt, abuse, and pain like I did. They will never feel the way me and Emily did, not a single day in their lives, and if anyone ever makes them feel that way, I will kill them myself, with my bare hands.

  Pulling up to the covered parking, I wish not for the first time that this place had an enclosed garage. Unfortunately, it doesn’t, just a carport. Shutting my car door, I don’t bother locking it as I make my way toward the front door.

  Slipping my key into the lock, I slowly open the door, that dread and fear beginning to fill me, almost full. My stomach twists, it turns and aches. I think for a moment that I’ve contracted food poisoning, it hurts so bad. That is, until I step inside and lock the door behind me.