by Piper Frost
“Yeah, just in case. I don't want you being trapped if I have to stay longer or go to my dad's or something.” I fix a few hairs standing out of place on his head and smirk.
He nods once, shoving his hands in his pockets before stepping off the porch and heading to his motorcycle. After a smirk my way, he pulls his helmet on and I’m in a trance. That should have been my sexy husband. My beautiful house. A breeze makes the trees whisper their reminder that I’m not in the big exciting city I want to be in and that’s why my husband is an awful man. And my house feels like a hell.
“Race ya,” Tommy says then flips his visor up. “That little sporty car's got nothin' on this bike.”
“My car is so fucked from these back-roads,” I complain. “I don't know how you don't wipe out on your motorcycle. You better be a careful driver, Thomas,” I scold, which is comical because I fully expect him to listen to me, as if I have a say in anything.
He doesn't respond, just shakes his head and I'm grateful he's keeping his mouth shut. Last thing I want to do is argue with him before I leave this place with the possibility of never seeing him again. The drive to the funeral home is painfully silent and emotions are ripping each other apart within me.
When I arrive, I greet a few people but for the most part, I stay out of sight. At least I thought I was hidden from everyone in this room until a hand touches my shoulder and I quickly spin around to look up at Little Brandt Kenshaw. He's not little, and he wasn't when I left either. One thing I do miss from here is men. Real, hard working, muscle baring men. Though Brandt's in a button up shirt that hides those defined arms, there's no mistaking he's a dedicated cowboy.
“I heard you were back, but I couldn't believe it till I saw it for myself.” His soft smile is endearing. “Nice to see you, Affton. Sorry it's under these circumstances.”
“You too, Brandt.” I hug him then pull back, grinning up at him. “I heard you got yourself a little wifey and a whole army of kids.”
The smile that beams from him is real. Bright. That’s real happiness.
“Yep.” He nods across the room. “Jo's over there with the baby. The rest of the crew’s at home with grandma, her mom. Didn't want to make today too crazy for y’all.” He lets out a chuckle, watching his wife from across the room like she's the only one that matters. The way a man should look at his wife.
“Please, that'll happen on its own.” I chuckle. “It's so good to see you, Brandt.” I shake my head, still trying to wrap it around all these boys have grown up. “Have you seen my brother?” I nervously clear my throat.
Brandt's head nods slowly. “He's up front. Probably where you should head. It was good seeing you, Affton. Hope to see more of you 'round here. I know Bo would sure like it.”
I keep a smile on my face and nod because telling him there's no chance is pointless. When he walks away, I scan the packed room for Tommy, but can't find him.
It's inevitable so I head to the front and my dad stops me. We don’t have a tearful greeting with hugs and kisses. He turns back to his friends and his arm drapes over my shoulder as his voice gets louder while he starts to ramble a long list of my accomplishments, the ones he knows about. It's all for show and to impress his friends and distant relatives, but my dad's not as proud of me as he pretends to be. He'd rather I stayed here under his thumb, and continued to circulate the family money. As my dad's attention span dwindles, I slip away and walk toward my mom's casket, ready to internally go through the diatribe that's been in my head for years. I'll get it off my chest then maybe I won't feel as much guilt for never telling her to her face it never felt like she loved us.
Someone grips my arm and I withhold my flinch from their fingers digging into my sore muscle. I look up at my little brother, who's another hard working cowboy and I can't help but smile. I throw my arms around him and the hug immediately feels off. He's not happy to see me.
“Hi,” I mumble, just wishing he'd hug me like he cares.
“Glad you came.”
“It's Mom, Bo,” I snicker and step back from him.
“Not sure you know the meaning of family anymore, Affton.” And he turns his back to me. His broad shoulders are a wall that won't be crumbled.
I stand at my mother's open casket, tears pouring down my face and everyone around thinks it's for her, but it's not. Why did I let any of this happen? Why didn’t I call my mom and air our differences like I swore I'd do one day? Why didn't I fight like hell to keep in contact with my brother and find out what's happened in his life? Why didn't I tell my dad we never wanted his money, we just wanted him to love us. Why didn't I tell Tommy I loved him before I left? It's all a simple answer. If I stayed in contact with my family, there's the possibility they'd find out how I've fucked up my life. And Tommy...I didn't have it in me to make him miserable by telling him I loved him because I know that man. He would do as much as he could to make me happy, whether or not he was happy. And I'm not sure he had the same feelings for me back then. He was in love with having fun and staying away from a commitment, and so I adapted the same mindset.
“Excuse me,” I say bumping into someone, needing to leave this room before I suffocate.
I fight my way for an exit and my eyes spot Tommy. Why it feels like he'll be my only comfort right now is a confusing thought, but I need him, and only him. I turn and fight to get to him as he talks with people I don't know and right now my mind is only on one track and that's Tommy's comfort and protection. I can't even fake a smile for the people I pull him away from.
“I'm sorry,” I whisper, clasping his hand. “I need you. Right now. I need you,” I insist and start pulling him away.
Everywhere I turn, someone's blocking me and I'm starting to get smaller and smaller, on the brink of a breakdown. Tommy takes over and pulls me close, getting us through the crowd and out a back door. The thick air fills my lungs as I inhale the familiar scent of home. God, I always wanted away from home, but right now as the smell of the country soothes me, I don't want to leave. And that's more dangerous than leaving.
“I'm so sorry,” I break down into sobs.
His arms wrap tight around me and he buries his face in my neck. “Stop apologizing, Affton,” he murmurs, bringing a hand up to smooth down my hair. “You have to stop apologizing.” He takes a deep breath, holding me tighter against him. He feels so safe standing here.
“I don't want to be here,” I cry in his arms. “My dad...my dad...” I almost let it spill, how my dad and Corey are so similar it's sickening. “And my brother.” I sob harder. “Oh god, I fucked up, Tommy, so bad.”
“Shh.” He lets out a puff of air and steps back, cupping my face in his hands. Hands that have seen a few hard days of work and nothing as delicate and manicured as Corey’s. “It's not too late to fix this, Affton. Your brother's a stubborn, bull headed man but he loves you. Your dad's always been a jerk,” he says, smirking. “And somewhere in here.” His fingers tap my chest lightly. “Somewhere in there is the badass girl who didn't give a fuck. We'll find her again.”
He's not lying, but that's because I had him. I didn't give a fuck, and I was a badass because I had him backing me through everything I did and said. I don't have him anymore. I have...no one.
I nod my head, carefully wiping at my tears and step closer to him. I have a few hours to pretend this is my life. This is the man that wants to be with me. This is the man that treats me right and loves me. Maybe not in the way I need from a companion, but I know he has love for me. Pretend he’s the man that came with me to California because I'm too stubborn to stay in this town. I reach out and put my hand to his side while his gently slides over my jaw.
This was my best friend, I used to be able to tell him anything. I can tell him my regrets, even though there's no point, but at least I can get them off my chest.
“I wish he was you,” I whisper.
His eyes close and he takes a sharp breath. ”God, Beany,” he whispers, his pained eyes finally opening to find mine. His he
ad shakes. “Me too,” he finally mutters, almost so quiet I can't hear it. His eyes search mine then flick down to my lips before he dips his head and gently brushes his against mine.
“I want you—” I jump and a squeak when a child bounces off my legs, laughing hard enough that when I realize it's a little kid, I start to laugh at his happiness.
He's in a little suit and his blond hair is falling into his blue eyes while he rolls in the dirt, laughing hysterically. I look up at the woman that comes bursting out the door after him and it's Kinlee Jones...or Hart now.
“Bobby, no!” She huffs, plucking him out of the dirt and cringing, trying to keep him at a distance so the dirt doesn't get on her dress. “Your daddy's gonna be livid, little man.” She tries brushing him off. “Sorry, you two.” I don’t think she realizes it's me standing here. Probably because it's been forever since she saw me. God, my own sister-in-law doesn't even recognize me.
“He's fine, Kinlee,” Tommy says. “Looks just like you more and more each time I see the little guy.” He smiles at her and her head snaps to Tommy, then to me.
“Affton?” she whispers.
I can't take my eyes off the little boy that's acting just like my brother but looks just like his mom.
“Hi.” I glance at her then squat. “I'm sorry,” I quickly tell her because I just want to see him. “Hey.” I softly take his hand and pull him a little closer. This is the first time I'm laying eyes on my nephew outside of a picture. Tommy knows my family better than I do and it’s maddening I've done this to myself. This little boy has no clue who I am but he's being respectful and letting his creepy aunt stare at him. “I'm...” I look at Kinlee, not sure what I am. “Affton,” I mutter.
“Affton's your daddy's big sister, Bobby. She's your aunt.” She smiles brightly, then cringes again. “I'm sorry he's so dirty. He can't seem to stay away from mud.”
I laugh when he touches my hair. “This is a mess, dude.” I unbutton his suit coat and pull it off. His white shirt and suspenders make me laugh and I glance up at Tommy. “You're too cute.” I grin at the little boy until the door opens again and I look up at my brother. I stand and he approaches, picking up his son before limping a few steps back. I noticed that limp before but just figured I was making it up, but he's definitely got a limp. “Did you hurt yourself again?” I ask then glance from Bo to Tommy, then finally Kinlee because no one's saying anything.
“Where's his jacket?” Bo snaps and I quickly hold it out. Kinlee gently takes it. “I don't know if you're going to the cemetery, but we need to get ready for the procession.” He glares at me for a moment before taking Kinlee's hand then turning for the door.
I can't even respond before he's inside, keeping his family away from me. I bite my lip and hold my breath thinking it'll stop the tears but it doesn't and I turn to Tommy, mentally begging him to save me from this hell.
“Your brother was in an accident five years ago,” he says, sighing. “It was bad. Tore him up, broke them apart. He spent some time in California...couldn't walk for the longest time. It was pretty bad.” He's nodding, hands shoved in his pockets. “I'm sorry, Affton.”
I shake my head, not sure what he's apologizing to me for. I did this. This is my fault.
“I need to go.” I almost ask him to drive with me because I need him right now, but I can't because I'm leaving from the burial. “I'll see you there?”
“Yeah,” he says, watching me carefully. “You okay to drive?”
“I'll be fine.” I try to smile but when it doesn't come, I drop my head and move for the door. I push the fake smile I always wear on my face and make my way through the funeral home to find my father. “Dad, I'm going to drive myself in the procession.”
“I'd like you third. Me first. Then Bo. Then you.”
I nod and walk away. On my way out the door, a hand grabs my shoulder and I wince because it landed on a bruise. I look up at Chase's smile then my eyes flash to the redhead next to him.
“Hi!” I act excited and move in for a quick hug.
“Hey,” he says, pulling back from the hug and glancing at the redhead. “This is my wife Kaydence.” This cowboy’s beaming too. All these men and the love they have for their wives makes me sad.
She moves in quickly for a hug and I laugh. “You are gorgeous.” I grin at her and look her outfit over. She could be a model. I could take all these girls and put them in Beany designs and make a killing...
“You are too! I'm so excited to meet Bo's sister!” She bounces happily and I chuckle, glancing at Chase.
“It's great coming back and seeing all you guys grown up,” I say to Chase.
“Been too long.” He nods. “You seen all the boys yet? I think Grant's around here somewhere. Tommy should be here too I think.” He smirks at me briefly. “You probably know that already, don't you?”
“Um.” I keep a smile on my face, wondering what he means by that. “Yeah, I saw Tommy. I haven't seen Grant. But I was just heading out for the cemetery. See you guys there?” I don’t know why I keeping asking people that. I plan on watching my mother's casket enter the ground, then getting the hell out of here and back to my life before I don't have one anymore.
“Yep. We're heading there shortly. Good seeing you, Affton.” His smile is bright and his hand is tight in his wife's as they walk toward the parking lot.
The feeling of jealousy inside me makes me want to scream. I wasn't supposed to have anything to be jealous of when it came to other people. But they're all so perfect. They seem so happy and in love. And here I am, wondering what my money will do for me when I'm in my own casket. Sure I've traveled and I've seen a lot, but I'm a prisoner in this life now. I can't even tweak it to how I want it to go.
As I head for my car, someone jumps in front of me and I scream, flinching back and my ankle twists, sending me to the ground.
“Whoa, fuck!” He laughs. “Sorry 'bout that, you okay?” Grant Matthews is laughing as he offers his hand out to help me up. “Heels on rocks are a no-go, Affton. Do they not have rocks where you're from?”
I grit my teeth. Grant's always been a huge pain in my huge ass. “Scaring women walking alone in a parking lot is a no-go, Grant. You're lucky I didn't swing.” I straighten my pants then run my hands through my hair. “I'd ask how you've been but I see you're still a jackass.”
“And I see you're still a bitch.” With a grin, he nudges my shoulder and I brace myself because anywhere people touch is going to hit a mark. “Pretty hot bitch though. City life's been treatin' ya well.”
“God,” I groan before I start to laugh. He's always been a pain, but always made me laugh. “I treat myself well,” I lie. “It's not the city. I could be this hot in the country too.” I cringe then point. “I need to get my car.”
“Want me to ride with you? Need an escort?” He's grinning at me and I roll my eyes.
“No. Definitely not. Hey, where's your date?” I glance around. “Didn't you bring a first date to your grandma's funeral when we were kids?” I bite my lip, trying not to laugh at the jackass. Love him, but he's so dense.
“Hell yes I did! Funerals are the best way to get sympathy ass! Shit, why didn't I think of that this time?” He slaps my back. “You'd be a good wingman, Hart. Wing-girl. I need a good wingman. Everyone else around here got lame, acting like grownups.”
I groan and shake my head. “You still have Tommy. He's single.” I start walking toward my car, hoping he doesn't follow, but no such luck.
“Tommy hasn't been out with me in so fucking long. Workaholic, if ya ask me. I thought once the girlfriend broke up with him he'd be out searching for more pussy, but he's old and boring now. And that goat.” He cringes. “I've come to accept my best friend's lost to adulthood.” He shakes his head, still following me.
I stop at my car and face him. “Having a goat makes you an adult,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Got it. And you, Grant Matthews.” I fix the collar of his shirt. “Have remained the super cool, popular playboy. Colle
cting every disease the south has to offer.” I smooth my hand down his chest. “Stay classy, Grant.” I pull my car door open.
“Always good seein' you, Affy.” He ruffles my hair like he used to do when we were teens, just to piss me off, then jogs away before I can slug him like I used to.
I should get in my car and drive home, but I hate the thought of my brother despising me. He already hates me, I'm a disappointment to him, I'd rather not add fuel to the fire. I'll show up to put our mother into the earth. We'll stand tall as a family and continue to fool everyone who thinks the Harts are a loving group.
When I arrive there's so much commotion I hang back for as long as I can. I'm hoping to go unnoticed and maybe I won't have to stand side by side with more men that hate me. Of course that doesn’t last long. Someone grabs my hand and I quickly look over at Tommy.
“How ya holding up?” he whispers after leaning in, letting his fingers lace with mine.
“I'm fine,” I respond in a matched whisper. “I'm hoping my dad doesn't notice I'm hiding behind everyone because I really don't want to—”
“Affton.” I jerk my head toward my brother's voice. He looks toward the front then gestures his hand for me to march my compliant ass up there, and I do. Dragging Tommy with me.
“I need your support,” I quickly tell him, hoping he won't abandon me.
“I’m here,” is all he says, standing right next to me and not letting go of my hand.
I lean a little closer to him because my brother has shifted so I'm practically to his back. After a long sermon from the priest, they begin to lower the casket and something brushes my other hand. I look down and see Bo's trying to grab my hand with his right, but...he can't seem to grasp mine, so I help. When his fingers don't take hold of mine and his hand is incredibly cold, I realize there's something wrong with his arm. I burst into tears because I'm so far removed from everything here, I have no idea what's going on anymore. Bo hugs me to his side briefly, thinking I'm crying for our mother and when he lets go, the guilt that I'm not makes me push into Tommy's arms.
