Prodigal Son: A Sexy Single Dad Romance: Book 2 in the Marked Men 2nd Generation Series (The Forever Marked Series)

by Jay Crownover

  But today, I wanted her to be closer.

  I wasn’t certain why I wanted to share my heartache with her. I just knew that I wanted to see her right now more than anything when my whole world felt like it was suddenly flipped upside down.

  I blew out a breath and tried to reassure my sister, “I believe you. I know you wouldn’t stand by and let me be blindsided like that.” But I also knew she would fight to the death for Aston, so she had to be in a tough spot right now. “Just give me some space, okay? I’ll call Mom and Dad when I get where I’m going. Tell them not to worry too much. Let me catch my breath and calm down for a minute.”

  My little sister sighed again, and I heard her knock something over—her sadness and frustration palpable through the phone. “You don’t have to run away from home in order to hide your emotions from everyone, Ry. As hard as you try to convince everyone otherwise, we know you’re human. Stop trying to force yourself to be so perfect all the damn time. You’re allowed to be sad and angry right now. You’re supposed to be upset when your heart gets broken. I know you don’t really know what losing feels like, but this is it, and you shouldn’t go through it alone.”

  I did tend to strive for perfection, but obviously I missed the mark or I wouldn’t have gotten dumped so mercilessly.

  I cleared my throat and tapped my fingers on the steering wheel, squinting as a semi-truck passed me on the opposite side of the road. “I’m only going to be alone for a little bit.”

  She was correct when she said I was running away to hide my feelings.

  That was something I always did.

  But there was one person with whom I never put on the pretense of perfection, mostly because she saw right through it and never failed to call me out on my bullshit.

  “Oh…. okay.” Almost instantly, my sister’s tone changed, and she seemed to be relieved. Like I said, we were super close, and she knew me better than I knew myself some days. It wouldn’t take her too long to figure out where I was going, even if the destination would be considered highly unlikely to anyone else. “Well, drive safe, and don’t forget to check in with Mom and Dad when you have time. I’ll try to hold them off for a little bit. For what it’s worth, I already gave Aston a piece of my mind. I even called Royce to ask him if he knew what was going on, but he is as clueless as me. About the college thing, and about you. I don’t know why she was making all those decisions in secret, but I honestly think she’s hurting as much as you are right now.”

  Impossible.

  Aston walked away, and I could hardly move. She took me down to my knees and left me breathless. When she walked away, she hadn’t bothered to spare me a backward glance. There wasn’t an ounce of the kind, caring girl in Aston who had me wrapped around her finger for so long as she ripped my heart out. I definitely didn’t recognize her. Worse than that, though, was that I didn’t recognize myself either. I wasn’t familiar with failure, so losing the most important thing in my world forced me to react in a way that was totally unlike me. I was behaving like the kind of people I tended to loathe.

  Unreasonable.

  Irrational.

  Unpredictable.

  The reason I disliked people who acted in such a way was because I never allowed myself the freedom to be so chaotic and carefree. I was jealous, and the envy ate away at me.

  Fortunately, I had a thirteen-hour-plus drive to pull the frayed edges of my ego together and to slip back into my role of the golden boy who was unnaturally blessed.

  I drove through the night and into the very early morning. I only stopped for gas and the occasional bathroom break. I silently cursed at how big and flat Texas was as the miles added up. I made a quick stop to shove a greasy, fast-food breakfast in my face when my stomach started growling. Because I was an athlete, I normally avoided anything that came in an oil-stained paper bag. But right now, the usual rules didn’t apply. I was alone, so I didn’t need to pretend to be perfect for anyone.

  I took a moment to shoot a couple texts off to my sister and my cousin. Zowen was pissed it took so long for me to respond to him and warned that my dad had already shown up at his house looking for me. We were all home from school for summer break, so it made sense that my folks figured I would hit up my uncle’s house first when I disappeared. My Uncle Rome was even scarier than my dad when it came to discipline and order. He was the last person, next to my father, I wanted to come looking for me, especially while I was all caught up in my feelings. My uncle was a former military man who was now a successful entrepreneur. He didn’t take shit from anyone who wasn’t his pint-sized wife or his wild, mouthy firstborn. My cousin Remy was even more of a handful than my little sister and twice as rebellious. She was always in one kind of trouble or another, but she was probably the most loyal and passionate person I’d ever encountered in my life. Both Daire and I idolized her when we were growing up. Now, she was often the one we turned to when we needed help managing our relationships with our parents and general life advice. She was one of our group who left Denver relatively young when she ventured into the real world. I think we all expected as much from her.

  Remy was a wanderer. A free spirit. She was also irrevocably in love with Hyde Bishop-Fuller, the oldest guy in our inner circle and the most reclusive and evasive. Unfortunately, Hyde had never returned her adoration, and when he enlisted in the military a couple of years ago, Remy really saw no reason to stay in any one place for too long. She left her shattered heart in Denver and never looked back. I missed her like crazy, and I knew Zowen worried about her endlessly, but she always seemed happy and as carefree as ever when she finally materialized. She seemed like she was finally letting go of her impossible love. I always envied her easy-going attitude. Nothing seemed to ruffle her feathers. Well, nothing other than Hyde.

  I’d never been that relaxed and unaffected. I took myself far too seriously.

  It was still early enough in the morning that I didn’t have to fight traffic when I pulled into Austin. It was hardly a surprise that the girl I came all this way to see was just getting home when I parked my truck at the end of her driveway. She didn’t even blink when she saw me climb out of the cab of my truck and make my way toward her.

  Her black and purple hair was piled on top of her head in a messy ponytail, and her dark eye makeup was smeared around her honey-colored eyes in a way I couldn’t tell if it was deliberate or not. She had on a pair of skintight, red leggings that looked like they were made of leather, and a pair of shiny black boots laced up to her knees. Her t-shirt had the logo of a band I was sure no one besides her had ever heard of scrawled across the front of it, and the bottom was chopped off so it skimmed her pierced belly button. I always thought she looked like she had just climbed out of the pages of a comic book, and today was no exception.

  She’d been out of my league and way too cool for me ever since we were young. She was one of the few people in my life I’d ever allowed to intimidate me. She was also the only one I’d rejected before she could reject me, because in my teenaged mind I knew she eventually would. I knew she would figure out I was too boring, too predictable, too worried about what other people thought of me to stay by her side. Youthful passion exploded between us unchecked, but so did immature worries and insecurities. I hurt her before she could hurt me, and I had lived with the regret of that choice every day since.

  Instead of walking into the cute, but tiny, mid-century modern home that sat just off South Congress Street, Bowe waited until I was standing directly in front of her before she crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at me.

  I was waiting for her to demand an explanation as to why I was suddenly standing on her doorstep. I was ready for her to pick a fight. I’d spent the last hour of the very long drive bracing myself for her to rip me apart and ask all the questions I didn’t want to answer, and to turn me away without a second thought. After all, she made it clear she wanted nothing to do with me after that summer we ruined each other. She’d actively tried to forget about m
e, according to my sister and anyone else I asked.

  Instead, I whispered, “It hurts so bad,” and almost immediately lost all the composure I’d tried so hard to build. I aimlessly made my way toward the girl who had declared herself my sworn enemy.

  She didn’t push me away or make fun of my complete and utter breakdown.

  No. She didn’t do anything I expected her to do.

  Bowe Keller never did, which was why I never knew what to do with her or how to handle all the conflicting ways I felt about her.

  All I knew was she was the one person I needed the most at this moment.

  Bowe

  THE LAST THING I was expecting to encounter after dragging myself home from a band practice that lasted way longer than it should have was a heartbroken, seemingly devastated Ryier Archer. The only time I crossed paths with any of the Archer family was on holidays or during summer vacations when my parents dragged me to Denver for a couple of months each year. Since that one fateful summer when I was sixteen, I spent less and less time with my childhood friends. I loved my life in Austin, and often resented being dragged into all the memories and relationships that made up my parents’ past. I was very much a live-for-the-moment type of girl, and I didn’t enjoy being pulled away from my friends and my interests at home. I’d skipped the last visit to Denver for Christmas and was fully planning on staying in Austin for the summer, even though my parents had heavily hinted that they wanted me to tag along this year. I was living on my own now and trying to make my own choices without feeling guilty or ungrateful for all they had done for me. It was a struggle I’d yet to master.

  I had twin sisters, Yves and Zola, who were several years younger than I was. Neither one of them appreciated my new level of defiance, because it meant they couldn’t convince our parents to let them skip working and other activities this summer. If I wasn’t going, there would be no concessions. My mom and dad struggled to have more kids after I came along. It was something they were very open about. They were transparent with me when they decided to pursue giving me a sibling through in-vitro fertilization. It hadn’t been an easy process for anyone in our small family. It took more than one attempt before they were successful. As a result, my little sisters were often viewed as the miracles they were and frequently got their way. We all treated them like they were precious and special. They might be the only soft spot I had, and the only ones who would get me to go back on my resolve to avoid Denver at all costs. Or at least, they were the only soft spot I would ever admit to.

  I would rather die than admit to the other tender, sensitive spot I harbored in my icy heart to anyone. Especially to myself. Unfortunately, that secret spot had blown wide open and was aching like crazy because the boy who claimed it was currently standing in front of me looking like a heartbroken zombie.

  Even as young children, Ry Archer and I were always on opposite sides of any situation. We bickered endlessly and never saw eye-to-eye on anything. Fighting with Ry was as easy as breathing, and our endless conflicts, big and small, played a pretty big part in why I didn’t want to pull myself out of my own life just to play the recurring villain in his. We were old enough now; there was no need to be forced to endure the other’s company. There was no reason either of us had to suffer.

  We didn’t have to be bombarded with memories of that night where one of our legendary fights over something small suddenly erupted into something else. To this day I had no clue how an argument led to clothes coming off and both of us looking at each other like the other person had all the answers in the world. Sure, Ry was hot, and smart, and popular. But he was also stubborn, abrupt, and overly opinionated. One might call it the heat of the moment, because it had been combustible, but all of that warmth and affection that hid under animosity turned to ash the second Ry decided he regretted letting things go too far, and he immediately pulled away. We had always had a weird intimacy between us that was closer than a friendship, but it wasn’t until he pushed me away on purpose and found someone who was my total opposite that I realized enemies might know each other better than friends ever did.

  Now, I didn’t have to let his perceived perfection irk me. And my absolute lack of conformity and disregard of the rules no longer needed to bother him.

  It was never easy between the two of us, but over the last few years, while he’d been dating Aston Wheeler, things had morphed into being unbearable inside my heart. There were several reasons for the discontent between the two of us, but I only let myself think about them when I was alone and feeling particularly melancholy and introspective. Mostly when I was making music or writing lyrics.

  Ry was a good inspiration for sad songs.

  None of that mattered at the moment, though, because Ry looked like he was on the verge of tears, or like he was about to collapse at my feet. I grabbed his stupidly attractive face and looked into his icy blue eyes. It might be the first time that Ry Archer allowed himself to show any kind of weakness or vulnerability to me. So, while a big part of me wanted to turn him back around and send him on his way, I knew I couldn’t kick him while he was down. Instead, I practically dragged him inside and situated him on my second-hand couch before he crashed and burned.

  One minute he was looking at me with his broken heart in his eyes, the next, he was knocked out and oblivious to the world around him. I was stunned when I took a good look at his sleeping face and noticed he had dried tear tracks on his ridiculously chiseled cheeks. The Ry I knew was so emotionally repressed I wasn’t sure he even knew how to cry. The boy who was currently unmoving in my living room was not the same Ry Archer I knew how to handle.

  The Ry I knew and loathed was the top student. The best boyfriend. The highly awarded athlete and super-reliable teammate. The beloved older brother. The steadfast cousin. The revered son and the unwaveringly loyal friend. He had no flaws and allowed for no mistakes. His stringent dedication to putting on a picture-perfect front was one of the main reasons we never got along. I had no time or patience for the pretense of perfection.

  Even though it was frighteningly early in the morning, I pulled my cell out of my pocket and called Daire as I went in search of an extra blanket to toss over my unwanted guest. As much as I didn’t like Ry, I adored Daire. We were similar enough that she was one of the few friends in Denver I stayed in touch with no matter how chaotic or busy life got. We chatted a couple of times a week and kept each other in the loop. She also kept me up to date on what her brother was up to, even though I would rather pull my own teeth out than ask her about him. She never divulged just how much she knew about the secrets Ry and I shared, but she was intuitive and knew her older brother better than anyone. I was pretty sure even if Ry never said a word, Daire was smart enough to know there were reasons beyond our differences that attributed to Ry and me not getting along and not speaking for a length of time.

  “You couldn’t call and give me a heads-up that your brother was going to show up on my doorstep? Do I even need to ask how he got my new address?” I asked the questions without saying hello as soon as Daire picked up my call. I’d only moved into the South Congress house a month or so ago. The rent was outrageous, but fortunately, my folks were helping me stay afloat until the two roommates I had lined up moved in. They were coming closer to the start of the next semester of school, so I was supposed to have the place to myself for most of the summer. Now I regretted giving Daire and Remy a virtual tour and my new address when they asked about it. I should’ve known Daire would pass that info onto her brother even if he didn’t outright ask for it. She was forever trying to get Ry and me to make up and go back to the way things were when we had an uneasy truce. I thought she would stop when he started dating her best friend, but her efforts to mend long-downed fences only increased as the years and the division went on.

  The younger girl snorted, and I could hear her shifting around in bed as she snapped back, “If I told you, you wouldn’t have gone home and he would be left sitting in his truck all lost and forlorn after he
drove through the night. Plus, I didn’t figure out where he was going until he was already near the border. He wasn’t exactly forthcoming with his plans. I had to guess. Is he okay?”

  I cast a look over my shoulder where his huge body was taking up every inch of my couch. He looked pale, and his black hair had clearly been the victim of his agitated hands. His jeans had what looked like a grease stain on one thigh, and there was a hole in his faded t-shirt near the neck. All in all, it was the messiest, most disheveled version of Ry Archer I had ever seen.

  “He’s here, but I don’t know that I’d call him okay. He looks like he’s been through the wringer.” I finally found a quilt my mom had made for me a couple of Christmases ago. It was made of a bunch of my dad’s old band t-shirts. All the different logos and designs from different tours and performances he’s put on through the years were there. It was totally nostalgic and personal. Even my dad had gotten choked up when he saw all the work and memories that had gone into the gift. I kept meaning to find somewhere in the new house to display it, but always seemed to get distracted by other things. Which was the story of my life. I had a hard time balancing my priorities, and everything, even the most important things, tended to lose out to my music and the songs in my head and heart.

  I tiptoed back to the couch and carefully placed the soft material over the prone body of the boy I told myself I wanted nothing to do with now that I was finally out on my own.

  Daire sighed heavily on the other end of the call, and I could almost visualize the cute and concerned face she was making. The girl looked like a literal angel with her almost white hair and super pale skin. However, looks were very fucking deceiving in her case because Ry’s little sister was a devil in disguise. She lived for mischief and fully lived up to her name. She wasn’t afraid of anything, and often let her curiosity lead her into trouble. She was fearless and fierce in ways I both feared and admired.