Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Great. I’ll let you get to it then.”
The squeak of his chair told me he followed me to the door.
“Hey.”
“Yeah?” I asked, turning.
“You sure you’re good?”
I sucked in a breath and let it out slowly.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright. I’ll be better when I have some answers.”
“Then I’ll get you some. Stick by your phone.”
With that, I made my way out, feeling a little lighter as I made my way back to the clubhouse.
If I expected some peace and quiet, though, that idea was squashed almost immediately. It seemed like while we were gone shopping, the rest of the partiers woke up and started all over again.
Some part of me craved calm.
But once I set up the sawhorses and tools and got to work on the room projects, it was pretty easy to drown out the hooting and squealing and music coming from the backyard.
I was nobody’s woodworker when I left Navesink Bank, but I had some basic tool knowledge from helping out my dad and uncles. But I’d learned some shit from some neighbor when my brother and I lived in Puerto Rico. I would probably live to old age and never be the master he was, but it felt good to be working with my hands again. If for no other reason than to keep my mind from running away with me.
The saw was so loud that I didn’t hear the bike as it pulled into the driveway.
But then there was a shadow falling over me, making me glance up. And there was my father. A snapshot of my own future. He looked a lot like my brother and I, just with some extra years and a flash of gray.
“When’d you get so good with tools?”
“Just a hobby I picked up. Trying to make my room look less dreary. I’m happy to be out of the bunk bed, but I miss the windows.”
“It was weird as fuck to move into a normal house with windows and natural light after being in the clubhouse so long. But enjoy it while you’re here. Life moves fast enough without wishing it away. Speaking of… the fuck are you doing out here by yourself when I hear music and girls out back?”
I shrugged at that.
“I planned to work on this. Didn’t realize there was a party until I got back from the store.”
“Right. And home improvement projects can’t be put off for a day, huh?”
“I get the feeling you’re dancing around something here.”
To that, my father shook his head. “Can’t get used to you talking to me like a grown-ass man,” he admitted. “You were still ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir’ when you left. Alright, I’m a little worried you’re not enjoying this.”
“This?”
“The club. The atmosphere. The brotherhood. I can see your brother eating it up. And for a little bit, I thought you were settling in too. But there’s a party out back. And you’re here.”
“There was a party last night too,” I told him. “And the night before. And the night before that. This is the first one I’ve sat out.”
“Okay,” he said, nodding. “Everyone’s entitled to a little solitude. I remember how hard that was to come by when I lived here. I just would hate to see it become a pattern. Don’t make your old man start worrying about you more than usual.”
If only he knew what he really had to worry about. Like a woman with a gun pointed right at my chest.
The plan was to find her, handle it, and never have to speak a word of it to anyone, though. Least of all my father, who I knew would worry.
“Please tell me he’s at least had a few hours without a drink in his hand,” he said, his focus suddenly stolen from me to glance toward the side of the house where my younger brother Vas was chugging something out of a red party cup.
“Pretty sure he didn’t drink anything when he was sleeping.”
“Way to comfort your old man,” my father said with a smile that had the same dimples I did. As we watched, Vas tossed the cup toward—I imagined—a trash can. Then he ducked low, and picked up a woman in a red bikini over his shoulder, her long blonde hair streaming down his back. Vas hooked an arm around her upper thighs and ass as he started walking toward the garage (and the door through it and into the clubhouse). “Yo, kid, raincoat!” my father called, making Vas go pale for just a second before he disappeared.
“You enjoyed that too much.”
“Gotta get my kicks somewhere. Besides, I’m sure she’s sweet and all, but I don’t want her making me a grandpa. Yet.”
“Don’t worry. Everyone wraps it up. No one wants the parties to end.”
“Except…” he said, looking at my wood project.
“It’s one day.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’ll see. You need to stop by and see your mother sometime. Let her fuss over you.”