The Wreckage of Us

by Cherry, Brittainy

  “Don’t be gross, Garrett. Listen, Charlie kicked me out. I need a place to crash for tonight at least.”

  “Like I said, on your knees, or you can find another place to crash.”

  “Are you joking?”

  “Am I laughing?”

  Just then, a girl walked up behind him, and I recognized her right away. Megan Kilt—the same girl who Garrett had said was just a friend. Back then I’d known better than to believe him.

  The moment Megan saw me, a wicked grin fell against her lips. “Well, if it isn’t gothic Barbie,” she cooed. “Really, why do you wear so much eyeliner? It’s overkill.”

  I flipped her off and looked back to Garrett. “Just let me crash on your couch tonight, and you can do whatever you want with bimbo Barbie,” I offered. “I’ll even wear earplugs.”

  “Sorry, Hazel. Charlie told me to not take you in. Said you needed some tough love.”

  There was nothing loving about what Charlie was doing to me. It was cruel.

  “Charlie won’t have to know.”

  “Charlie knows everything. Even the shit that you think he doesn’t.”

  I hated that it was true. It was as if Charlie had eyes in the back of his head and was able to be a step ahead of everything and everyone.

  Garrett blew another puff of smoke, and Megan wrapped her hands around his shoulders, as if she was trying to make it clear that he was now her play toy. Fine by me. I’d always known Garrett wasn’t the one for me. He was just the one who was always there.

  Except when I needed him the most.

  Garrett was the bad boy that romance novels made you think you wanted, though, unlike the novels, he didn’t have a turning point. There wasn’t a moment when he said the right thing or spoke to me in such a poetic way that I fell more in love with him each day. He didn’t make sacrifices for our relationship or surrender himself to our love.

  He was just Garrett, the boy who was there when no other guys would look my way. I wished that I could’ve said I was strong enough to look away, but sometimes loneliness made you crave any kind of connection—even from those who sucked your soul dry.

  The only difference between him and Charlie was the fact that Garrett would never put his hands on me. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t physically abusive like Charlie.

  Still, that didn’t make him someone worth worshipping.

  Sometimes I wished Garrett was a fictional character.

  I would’ve killed to see his growth.

  “Hazel, before you go, how’s your mom? With the whole pregnant thing?” he asked, stomping out the cigarette. “Is Charlie treating her right? Making sure she’s eating and shit?”

  I shook my head. “You know Charlie only has a one-track mind. And it’s not on my mother. I was the one making sure she was being cared for, not him. And somehow he managed to have her turn on me.”

  Garrett pulled out another cigarette and lit it. I swore, the guy smoked like a chimney. “I’ll check in on her for you, to make sure she’s not missing her vitamins and shit.”

  Well, that’s nice and extremely out of character.

  “Thank you.”

  “Yeah. My mom will probably want to make sure she’s good too.”

  Garrett’s mother, Sadie, had been Mama’s best friend through the good and the bad. Sadie wasn’t a bad person. She’d just been placed in bad situations.

  Like a lot of people, I supposed.

  Garrett flipped his lighter on and off in his free hand. “You should get lost, though, before Charlie finds you here and gives you and me hell.”

  I left, passing teenagers being rowdy on the streets and adults being rowdier inside Carl’s Bar due to the freedom of Friday night.

  I kept going even though my feet burned from walking so much. I couldn’t wear my combat boots, seeing as how I’d ruined them in the pigpens, so I was stuck wearing stupid, uncomfortable flip-flops that I’d taken from my mother without her knowing.

  Without much thought, I found myself back at the ranch. It seemed like the only place I could think of going. The barn house was lit up with music blasting, probably from Ian’s band, and for the most part it sounded amazing—minus the crappy lyrics.

  Don’t get me wrong; Ian could sing. The lyrics were just piles of crap.

  Behind the barn house, through the wooded area, was a small abandoned shed that I’d found a few days ago while trying to release a cramp in my hip. I walked in that direction and opened the door.

  There wasn’t much inside, but there was a beat-up old rug that I rolled out. It would serve well as a bed for the night. “It’s just like camping, Hazel. Just like camping,” I told myself. There was a big hole in the roof of the shed that showcased the star-filled sky. Whenever I looked up at the sky, I felt at peace. The galaxy made me feel small, and oddly enough, that made me feel better about things. Almost as if there was so much to the world that my current situation wasn’t too dire. Things would turn around. They had to at some point. Life wasn’t meant to be this sad, and I was certain I’d find my way out of this godforsaken town sooner or later. I’d hoped that Mama would join me, but it was clear she’d chosen her side and I was no longer on her team.

  I laid one of the bags with my clothes in them on the rug and used it as a pillow. I stared up through the hole toward the sky and listened to the Wreckage create sounds that were worth hearing. I may have hated their lead singer, but it was no lie that as a whole their sound was breathtaking.

  Now, if only those lyrics were better . . .

  I closed my eyes that night to the sounds of Ian Parker’s voice, and I tried my best to not think about anything else.

  Tomorrow would be better, and the sun would rise again.

  History seemed to be on my side, because the sun did rise the following morning. I was having a hard time shaking off the feeling of betrayal from Mama, but at least I had work to keep me busy. Even though I was supposed to have the day off, I still showed up to work around the ranch. If I was working, I couldn’t think about my current homeless situation. When you were shoveling manure, it was hard to think about anything other than the fact that you wanted to vomit.

  Plus, now that I was squatting in the broken-down shed, I didn’t have to walk thirty minutes to and from work every night. Silver linings.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” a raspy voice boomed as I sat in the stables, brushing Dottie, the most beautiful horse I’d ever set my eyes on. Dottie and I had shared an apple not too long ago, and since then, we’d been engaging in girl talk, because my life was now at the stage where I talked to animals to feel less alone.

  Groovy.

  Truthfully, animals were a lot kinder than humans, so I counted my newfound friendship with Dottie as the ultimate win.

  “I thought I’d stop in to help around today,” I replied to the Grumpy McGrump Ian standing in the doorframe.

  I wondered if he knew what a smile was . . . I was certain he had more reasons to smile than I did, and still, I found enough reasons to do it.

  “You aren’t on the schedule,” he scolded.

  “I know. I was in the neighborhood.”

  “Well, get out of the neighborhood.”

  “Why does it matter? The guys hardly brush Dottie and the others the way they should be brushed. If anything, you should be happy that I’m helping.”

  His brows lifted. “You don’t get paid for this.”

  “I didn’t punch in. I know how jobs work.”

  “Clearly you don’t, because showing up to said job on your day off isn’t how this goes.”

  I stopped brushing Dottie and let my hands collapse to my lap as I stared at Ian. “Why are you so grumpy toward me?”

  “Why do you do idiotic things to make me grumpy?” he barked. His hair was wild and untamed as he stood there with his arms crossed tightly across his toned body. If his biceps could wave, they’d probably flip me off.

  “Just ignore me,” I offered. “I’m not in anyone’s way,
and Dottie is enjoying my company.”

  “She’s a horse. She can’t enjoy people’s company.”

  “It’s kind of silly to think that just because she’s a horse she doesn’t have feelings. When was the last time you asked her how she was feeling?”

  “For the love of . . . ,” he murmured, before running his hand through his hair. “You can’t be on the property while you’re not working. That’s called trespassing. It’s against the law.”

  “What? Are you going to call Sheriff Cole to come arrest me for brushing Dottie?”

  “Don’t test me, Hazel,” he said through gritted teeth. “Are you trying to push my buttons, or does it come naturally to you?”

  “Like breathing air.”

  He grumbled some more and brushed his thumb beneath his left eye. “If I hear about you getting in anyone’s way, you’re out. And I don’t just mean for today, but I mean out out. Fired. Do you understand?”

  “I hear you loud and clear, Coach.”

  “Stop the sarcasm.”

  “That comes naturally to me like breathing air too.”

  Before he could bark his annoyance at me, a woman walked into the stables and looked toward Ian. “Are you ready to go, Ian? I only have such a short lunch break if we are going to . . . you know.” She glanced over to me and looked away, growing a bit red in the face.

  Oh, trust me, sweetie, we all know.

  If I had a dollar for every woman I’d seen approach Ian in the past few days, I wouldn’t even have to work at the ranch anymore. I’d be Kylie Jenner–level rich. I could’ve probably made a whole makeup palette based on the eye colors of the females that crossed his path and made it into his office.

  Emerald green. Midnight blue. Black shadows.

  Ian looked at me as if he wanted to scold me some more, but his desire to take that girl to his pen was higher than his want to boss me around. I was pleased when he left me alone. Dottie and I had more to catch up on.

  4

  IAN

  “She’s a pain in my ass,” I complained to Big Paw after a few weeks of training Hazel. Day in and day out, that girl kept showing up in her black wardrobe and messed-up combat boots, ready to work. No matter the task I gave her, she completed it. Sometimes she’d stay late into the night to finish, but she always left her work completed, giving me no reason to fire her. Even though I really wanted a damn reason to let her go.

  Plus, on her days off, she was still lurking around. It was as if she had no fucking life outside the ranch. Her favorite pastime was talking to the livestock as if someday they’d talk back. I knew Dottie well enough to know that she didn’t care a lick about what Hazel was saying—she just wanted those damn apples.

  All the other guys on the ranch seemed to be fine and dandy with Hazel wandering around like a lost dog. James said she stayed out of the way and even came in handy when he needed an extra pair of hands. Marcus and Eric found her equally helpful, and I swore Old Man Eddie had kissed Hazel’s cheek when she’d offered to help him in the chicken coop.

  It seemed I was the only asshole who didn’t want her around, and I knew damn well that it was because of my personal issues with her connections to Charlie.

  Seeing Hazel every day reminded me of Charlie, and thinking of Charlie reminded me of my parents. I tried my best not to think about them. I worked hard to keep them buried deep in the back of my mind, but seeing Hazel made that near impossible.

  I didn’t know the girl, but the taste she left in my mouth made me sick. If she was connected to a snake like Charlie, no good could come from her working around the ranch. She came from a world of toxicity.

  “And you’re a pain in mine,” Big Paw replied, sitting at his desk in his home. He scratched at his overgrown beard that Grams had been trying to get him to shave down and yawned without covering his mouth. “She’s been working harder than half the blockheads out there. Every time I’ve passed by the ranch, I’ve seen her working hard, struggling sometimes, sure, but working. Unlike half your team that I find slacking off and shooting the shit.”

  “Yeah, but . . .” I groaned, knowing I didn’t have a leg to stand on but still wanting a fucking leg to stand on. “Did you know she’s Charlie’s stepdaughter?”

  “You think I don’t do my research before hiring hands? Of course I knew that.”

  “And you still brought her on?” I asked, flabbergasted. “You know that Charlie is the reason Mom and Dad—”

  “Don’t start, boy,” Big Paw sneered, his voice coated in annoyance. He flicked his finger against the bridge of his nose. “I don’t got time for you bringing up this issue. Hazel Stone is working at the ranch, and you will be the one overseeing her work. End of story.”

  “But—”

  “I said end of story!”

  How could he push it away so fast? If it weren’t for Charlie, Mom and Dad would’ve never gotten hooked on meth all those years ago. They wouldn’t have run off in a drug haze, chasing their next high. They would’ve still been the parents I needed in my life.

  So fuck Charlie, and fuck everyone who was attached to him. He ruined lives—including mine.

  I wished I hadn’t known my parents before the drugs slipped into their lives. I wished I hadn’t seen their good side, but I had for thirteen years of my life. I had a slew of memories in my brain that reminded me of what Mom had been like before meth. I remembered how she’d loved to help Grams garden. I remembered her laugh, her rose-scented perfume, her smile. During the summers, Dad would let me go down to the dump and use the forklift out there to help him move around busted-up automobiles.

  The worst part of having parents who developed a drug habit over time was remembering that they hadn’t always been so fucked up. If they had always been tragic people, I would’ve had an easier time when they’d left.

  “You should think about letting her go. Or at least having someone else look after her,” I offered. That would’ve made it less annoying for me—if I didn’t have to look after Hazel.

  “I can’t let her go. I owe it to someone close to her to give Hazel a shot.”

  “Who? Who could you possibly owe?”

  His brows knitted, and he avoided my question. “How much are you paying for rent at the property on the ranch?” he asked, his question loaded, and I knew exactly what trap he was setting up.

  “Big Paw—”

  “Easy question, boy. Now answer it.”

  I slumped down in my chair. “Rent-free.”

  “I was talking to Tyler down at the marketplace the other day, and he was telling me that ranch house was easily worth over two hundred thousand. He asked me if it was up for sale. I’m debating if I should take him up on that offer.”

  “Okay, I get it.”

  “I don’t think you do.” He clasped his hands together. “I could be making money on that ranch house, but I don’t because you’re my grandson and I knew you wouldn’t be able to find a nice spot on your own without the help. I lend the barn house to you and your bandmates to rehearse in, even though I could be making a profit from renting it out to others. In a town where so many people are struggling, you’re living like a goddamn king, and you have the nerve to come into my office whining like a baby because you don’t like a girl who works harder than most people? Well, tough cookies. If you want her to have a new trainer, then quit. But Lord knows you’ll be losing everything that comes with your comfortable life.”

  I didn’t say another word, because Big Paw was right. I was being a little shit and throwing a fit because I wasn’t getting my way.

  “You were given a good shot at life, Ian. A few crappy things happened to you with your parents leaving, but overall, you’ve been gifted with blessings that most people in town would kill for. Don’t let your ego get so big that you don’t think others deserve a shot at that same blessing. Hazel hasn’t done a damn thing to prove herself to be anything like Charlie. She was just dealt a shitty hand. Let her play her cards the best she can, and stop being a wh
iny little dickhead about it.”

  Leave it to Big Paw to help you realize that you and your idiotic opinion were invalid and void.

  “On second thought, I have an even better idea,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “That spare room in the ranch house—give it to Hazel.”

  I choked on my next breath. “Excuse me?”

  “I get the feeling she’s in need of a place to stay.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “The fact that I’ve caught her snoozing in that broken-down shed the past few nights. I’ve been sleeping in my pickup truck nearby to make sure nobody bothers her. I know some hoodlums sneak into the ranch when they are bored and cause a ruckus, and I didn’t want them bothering Hazel. I wanted to offer her a place to stay, but I get the feeling she’d be too embarrassed to admit her struggles, so I want you to offer it to her.”

  “Psh, yeah, right. She’d never take a handout from me.”

  “She would if you offer it up to her in a nice box with a fancy bow on top.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  “I don’t know, Ian. Get creative.”

  I narrowed my eyes, knowing my grandfather was setting me up to make it impossible to not offer Hazel the ranch house. “And if I don’t?”

  “Well”—he chewed on the end of his cigar like it was bubble gum—“I guess I’ll have to see how much Tyler is willing to offer for the house.”

  Figured.

  I scratched at the slight stubble on my chin and grimaced. “Why is she even sleeping in that shed?”

  “Don’t know. It’s none of my business, but I get the feeling it’s probably due to the same asshole you’re hating her for. Make friends with her.”

  “Friends?” I bellowed. “She and I ain’t got nothing in common.”

  “Don’t say ‘ain’t’ like you’re uneducated. That’s part two of the deal. Give her a place to stay, and make her feel welcome. Befriend her. She ain’t got nobody, so you might as well give her someone to turn to when she needs it.”