Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 52357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Still, I breathe.
Because I have to.
Because he would want me to.
Because everyone expects me to.
This very moment though, I can’t see a future where I feel like me ever again. I want him back. Only I can’t have him.
Forever he will be this piece of me and I will never be whole again.
THREE
TOON
"The bear's strength lies not in its muscles, but in its indomitable spirit." — Unknown
Being back in Haywood’s Landing feels like wearing boots two sizes too small. Everything is familiar, but nothing fits quite right.
The roads haven’t changed. Same soft spots, potholes, gas stations. Even the way the air smells, pine with a faint hint of the salt from the beach not far away. As the tide rolls in and out, the air will change, but it always goes back to the same.
I’m not the same though.
The separation, even self-imposed, hardened me. I’ve learned to breathe with the elephant sitting on my chest. The time away taught me to carry my weight in silence.
Here I am, back in the mix I left behind. The silence feels loud now. The emotions screaming from inside me. My return is for her, but somehow I’m struggling with the idea of seeing her again.
Red, Pretty Boy, and BW are already at Jack’s Crab Shack and Bar waiting for me with beers in front of them. The place hasn’t aged at all. Still smells like seafood and beer with the beige walls and old school wooden booths.
BW slaps the bar stool next to him. “About time.”
Red grins, his eyes crinkling, “Look what the Carolina wind blew in.”
Pretty move laughs in a way that the scar on his face scrunches up, “you came all the way here to catch more shit. Damn, Toon, you a fuckin’ fool to put up with these two knuckleheads.”
I smirk, “y’all always this desperate for company? I’m not worth this shit.”
BW laughs handing me a beer, “only for your sorry ass do we wait. And you damn sure ain’t worth it, but we kind of like you so we made an exception.”
I take the long neck and click bottles with each of them. It’s good to be around my brothers. The ones who know my history and don’t need me to explain a damn thing.
We shoot the shit for a while. Casual. Club shit, old memories with prospects who didn’t make it or our days earning the rockers. Red leans in attentive like always, BW nods occasionally, the way he always does when he’s listening but calculating something behind his sharp eyes.
The air shifts, I should have known it would come quick.
BW drains the rest of his beer as Red looks at me. “You heard about Clutch?”
I nod slowly, “BW came to visit. Didn’t know the man well, but he seemed solid.”
Pretty Boy and Red look to BW in shock. He really didn’t tell anyone he was coming for me. Everyone in the club loves Dia. But for Red, she really is the sister he never had. Tank and Sass, his parents have four sons. Red is the oldest, followed by Crunch, Pretty Boy, and Tommy Boy. Sass is best friends with Doll, BW and Dia’s mom, while Tripp is the President and Tank is second in command as VP. They have spent their whole lives weaved together in this big family. I’m sure there was a time where Doll and Sass probably wished one of the Oleander boys would fall for Dia. It just didn’t work out.
But fall I damn sure did.
Red looks to me, leaning back with a tight expression, “Dia’s not doin’ good, brother.”
Her name hits me like always, fast, brutal, and uninvited.
“She’s shutting everyone out. Karsci, Kylee, hell even Maritza can’t get her to answer the phone or leave the house.” Red explains what BW already told me. “No one is getting through.”
I stare at the wood grain pattern of the bar top. “She lost the love of her life,” the words twist in my gut like acid burning a hole in metal. Once there was a time, I was the love of her life and it was supposed to be me and her forever. Then I walked away and she had to move on. She found love and that’s a gift Clutch gave her. I owe him for putting a smile back on her face after I took away her happiness. “She’s grieving. Give her space.”
“She lost more than love. She lost herself.” BW adds with a grim tone to his voice.
“I came,” I reply to BW. “I make no promises I can help her. But I’m fuckin’ here. Leave it at that.”
Thankfully, they take the hint. I nurse the single beer long after they carry on talking about anything and everything that isn’t Dia Nicole Crews. There is a poker run coming up, the garage builds, and more that I get caught up on. I’m here, but not fully listening. The things in my head have me all fucked up in my head.