Into the Nothing (Broken Outlaw Series Book 1)

by BT Urruela

  Maybe I’m just bothered by the fact that I didn’t say anything to him. Not one word. The guy made Benji freakin’ Mathis yelp like a damn dog. I mean, come on. The least I could’ve done was say thank you to him.

  The doorbell rings, and Mom comes from the kitchen wiping her spaghetti sauce-stained hands on her apron. I know I should get up and answer the door for her, but my legs are locked in place. “Caleb! Come get the door, please,” she calls up the stairs.

  I hear his bedroom door swing open, crashing into the wall behind it as the doorbell rings again. He stomps to the top of the stairs.

  “What the hell? I’m busy, Mom! Why can’t you get it?” She rolls her head back in annoyance, spotting me huddled in the corner. Her patient eyes are outdone only by the warm, radiating smile that never seems to leave her face. Not even when my soon-to-be sixteen-year-old brother is acting like a total asshole.

  And they thought I was bad. He makes ‘teenage me’ look like a damn saint.

  “I can get it, Mom.” I start to get up, but she motions for me to sit back down. With a smile she heads to the door and opens it. Xander stands with a bottle of red wine in his hands and a nervous look on his face. I can’t help but giggle at the thought of him purchasing a bottle of wine to bring to a winery.

  A black V-neck grips his body and the sight of it takes the laugh right out of me. His amber hair sits perfectly on his head with no sign of product, as if he woke up that way.

  “You must be Xander. Please, come in.” Mom sidesteps and he slips past her as I approach them from the front room. I catch her checking out his biceps and then the muscles in his back before she looks at me, wide-eyed, and mouths ‘wow.’

  I roll my eyes as she takes the bottle from him.

  “My name is Teresa. I’m Paige’s mom and Jack’s wife. It’s so great to have you!” She shuts the door and hands the wine to me as we make our way to the kitchen. Xander catches my eyes and nods. I do the same and smile, trying my best not to look like a little girl. I feel like I’m completely failing in my attempts.

  “It’s great to be here, ma’am. Thank you for having me.” The back door sliding open pulls our attention, and Dad walks in, his overalls stained green and brown from a long day’s work.

  He greets Xander with a smile. “Good to see you could make it! Sorry, I’m running a bit late, but I gotta grab a quick shower. I’ll meet y’all down in a few.”

  Dad slips his work boots off and makes a beeline to Mom as I pull the garlic bread from the oven. His lips meet her forehead and stay there for a few moments. Her eyes close and she takes him in, day of sweat and all. I can’t help but smile. To see them is to know what true love is.

  “Babe, you alright in here?”

  “I’m fine, honey. Dinner will be done soon. Go clean your stinky butt.” She playfully pushes him away.

  “You know you love this stinky ass!” He juts out his rear and shakes it a little, giving us all a good laugh. Then he grabs a Bud from the fridge and kisses my mother on the cheek. “I’ll go take that shower, dear.” He observes the room, eyeing each of us. “Where’s Caleb, by the way?”

  Mom rolls her eyes and shrugs her shoulders. She’s been doing a lot of that since my brother hit puberty.

  “In his room, where else?” She smiles, but carries something else in her eyes—something not smile-worthy at all. I hate that my brother makes her feel that way.

  My dad huffs out a sigh, rubs Mom’s shoulders and proceeds upstairs.

  I pull out a chair for Xander and he accepts with a nod. As he sits down at the kitchen table, I realize I’ve still yet to say a word to him. I can tell by the way he stares at me, he’s likely trying to figure out if I’m mute or not. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He just smiles and it’s then I catch a whiff of his cologne. It’s intoxicating, causing the words to become even more tangled up in my throat.

  “Ugh,” I croak, my mother giggling in the background. I sneer at her then turn back to Xander.

  “I’m Paige.”

  “I gathered that.” He shoots me a smirk. I manage my way into the seat across from him and rest my elbows against the table.

  “So, you aren’t from around here?” It comes out of my mouth sounding far more critical than I intended, and my mother shoots me a look from the stovetop—the kind of look that’s usually followed by a very motherly ‘Paige Lorraine!’ For the good of my already bruised ego, she refrains.

  “I mean… we have like two thousand people in this town. We all know each other. That guy you, um, made look like an idiot last night was in eleventh grade English with me. Of course, he was only in the class because he’d already failed three grades at that point.” He laughs. Sadly, I’m serious.

  “You’re right, I just got in town last night. A few hours before the… the altercation.” His sly and mysterious smile captivates me. It’s both hard to look at him and hard not to look at him. “I’m originally from Florida, but I’ve been all over the place awhile now. Came up from Georgia yesterday. Columbus.”

  Mom lets out a loud ughhh and whips around to face us.

  “Xander, how rude of me! Can I offer you something to drink? Water, soda, beer?”

  “Beer, yeah. Beer would be great.” He gets the words out with a quickness. Hell, maybe he’s a little nervous too. I slip back into my chair a bit, my shoulders settling.

  “I’ll take a beer too, Mom!” I call to her.

  As she pops the tops and sets them before us, Dad comes down the stairs, to the dining area, and pulls out a chair of his own. He observes the room, smiles, and takes a seat. My brother, scrawny and desperately attached to a horrible emo fad, comes in behind him. He plops himself in a chair and grumbles under his breath.

  Dad just chuckles and shakes his head. Spotting the beers in front of Xander and me, he licks his lips. “Honey, can y—” Before he can finish, Mom slips a beer in front of him. His Mizzou Tigers koozie, faded from the years, is in its rightful place. He chugs it and lets out a loud, satisfied sigh. He shakes his head.

  “Where are my manners? Xander, cheers!” He lifts his beer and Xander meets it with his own. “Thank you for coming to our home, and for last night. Welcome to Truman Valley…a once great town quickly being overrun by the type you’ve already encountered.” He shakes his head solemnly and takes another long swig. “There’s a lot of good in this town, but a whole lot of bad, too.”

  Xander nods, maintaining eye contact with my father throughout, something I always notice and Dad always appreciates.

  “So, where are you from?” Dad asks as Mom sets down pots and pans full of Italian sausage, spaghetti sauce and noodles on placemats on the table. I join her, grabbing plates and utensils for everyone.

  “I was just telling the ladies that I’m originally from Florida. But I’ve been traveling around for quite some time now.”

  “Well damn, where at in Florida? My family is from Plant City. We had a big strawberry farm out there. I was pretty young… don’t remember much of it.”

  “I’m actually from Ocala… right by there. I got out pretty much as soon as I could though.” He laughs, but it’s one of those laughs meant to disguise something else entirely—something deeper. “I’ve been to Plant City before though. It’s a lot like Ocala.” He laughs again, genuinely this time. “A whole lotta nothing.”

  “So you say you left early…you a military man?”

  Xander quickly raises a hand. “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve thought about it. I have friends that are military, and I respect them a lot for it. I think though, in the end, I’m just a little too selfish.” He stops abruptly, as if he wishes he could take his words back. But my father nods approvingly, and Mom finally takes her own seat at the table.

  “I saw how you operated last night. Witnessed it with my own eyes. There was nothing selfish about that.”

  Xander scratches at his beer label, nervously laughing off Dad’s comment, and then we all begin shoveling food onto our plates. Everyone other
than my brother, that is, who is pulling his own brand of hunger strike. Mom’s learned to not let it bother her so much.

  Dad has halved his usual rapid eating pace tonight for our guest, and between swallows, he peppers Xander with questions. It’s not that he’s nosy, just naturally curious.

  Ok, maybe a little nosy.

  “So what brings you to our neck of the woods?” he asks through a mouthful of spaghetti. Mom glares at him, though it goes unnoticed.

  Xander takes small bites, carefully dabbing his mouth with a napkin after each one. It’s one of those cute, polite things a guy will stop doing once he’s comfortable enough with you.

  “I was coming up from Columbus, Georgia. Spent the better part of three years down there…and it just came time for me to move on. By the time I hit your town, I was in desperate need of a beer and a bed. The beer of which, I had plenty…” Xander laughs and lifts his empty beer. “Could I bother you for another, by the way? Or I could get it myself.”

  Mom jumps to her feet, grabbing his empty bottle.

  “My pleasure.” She smiles and makes her way to the fridge, emerging with three bottles, as she already knows two more requests will be coming shortly. She hardly drinks, but the same can’t be said for my father and me.

  “You said you’ve been on the road awhile? Where else have you been?” Dad asks.

  “Well, before Georgia, I bartended in Miami. Place was too busy for me. I spent a little time in Jacksonville and Orlando before that, more construction and some bouncing. Savannah and Charlotte for a little bit too.”

  “Can I be released to my room?” my brother interjects.

  “Just go, Caleb,” Dad says, a bite to his tone. Caleb gets up as quickly as he can and makes his way up the stairs. The slam of the door cuts the awkward silence in half.

  “Well then, I didn’t think the spaghetti was that bad,” Mom jokes, grabbing my brother’s plate and taking it to the trash.

  “Ma’am, honestly, it could quite possibly be the best spaghetti I’ve ever had,” Xander says as he piles more onto his plate.

  My mother smiles a broad, honest smile as she places my brother’s dish in the sink. I’m smiling too because, my god, this man is something else. Based on looks alone—but in a semi-sexy kind of way—I’d think about turning around to avoid him in a dark alley. But to hear him speak… his chivalry and respectfulness is something else. Something I haven’t seen much of in the eligible men around these parts. At least not in the last ten years, which is when I started paying attention.

  “She is one hell of a cook.” Dad slaps a hand against Mom’s ass as she returns to the table, and I put a hand over my eyes in feigned disgust.

  “Get a room!” I yell as Mom sets the beers on the table.

  “Oh, don’t give me that shit, young lady. How do you think you got here?” Dad turns his attention to Xander. “Your family must miss you being gone all the time?” he asks.

  “Daaaad!” I give him my best what-the-fuck look.

  Xander just smiles. “No, really, it’s no problem at all. I’ve met a lot of friends along the way, and I’ve done my share of talking.” He clears his throat, swigs, then continues.

  “As for family…” He trails off, his eyes darting nervously to the floor.

  “You don’t have to say any more,” Mom says softly, her tender voice pulling his eyes to hers.

  “Yeah, seriously… Dad.” I stare at him, but he doesn’t see me. He’s still looking at Xander, presumably waiting for him to respond. He’s so damn stubborn sometimes.

  “Well, it’s a bit too heavy for tonight, but I don’t have much in the way of family. Spent a lot of time in foster care, so my friends are my family.” He takes another swig of his beer. Whatever his past is, he’s accepted it. Or he’s perfected the look of acceptance.

  “Well, I can understand that. Not to that extent, I’m sure, but my old man was a real bastard. Mother wasn’t much better.” Dad lifts his eyes to the ceiling. “Lord knows I’m not speaking ill of the dead, only the truth.” Mom gives my father a knowing look, placing a hand on his and rubbing it softly with her thumb.

  She gets up and collects our dirty dishes, dumping them into the sink with a clatter. She makes her way back to the table quickly. Though she’d never admit it, she’s as interested in the answer as Dad and I. But just as she sits down, Xander abruptly stands and walks to the sink. He begins cleaning the dishes and Mom stands without hesitation.

  “Please, I’ll get that later. You’re a guest,” she says.

  “And as a guest, I feel like I should do my part. You cooked, so I can clean a few plates off.” Mom reluctantly sits back down. With his back to us, Xander continues talking while he washes the dishes. “Eventually, I’ll end up in Washington. I have some, uh, friends up that way. But I’m in no hurry. This is kind of my ‘discover me’ period, I guess. Traveling the country and seeing what all it has to offer.” He finishes with the plates and sets them on the rack to dry. Then he dries his hands and returns to his seat.

  Dad nods with a look of approval. “That’s not a bad idea at all. I’ve told Teresa for years I wanna sell the winery and retire to the open road. Just a Winnebago and my girl. That would be perfect.” He looks Mom in the eyes as if Xander and I aren’t even here.

  Dad works long hours and he does it for us and for those years he’ll spend with my mother by his side, four spinning wheels below.

  “One day, honey,” Mom says, smiling and gripping his hand tightly. She looks back to Xander. “I think it’s a wonderful thing you’re doing. Most people lack the courage to go somewhere new… somewhere no one knows them. It takes a great deal of strength. Jack knows all about that.”

  Dad remains quiet, unaffected.

  Xander takes this in for a moment before speaking again. “Well, really, it probably would have been more courageous to stay in Ocala…with people I knew all too well. Have you ever been there?” He laughs.

  “No, I haven’t,” Mom says.

  “I stopped there on my way to Miami once. Started hearing Deliverance banjos the second I stepped out of the car!” Dad laughs heartily and scoots his chair out, then rises to his feet.

  “Xander, we’ve got a pretty nice fire pit out back and more than enough beer. How’s a few more sound? You got anywhere to be?”

  “I think that sounds like a damn good idea, sir. The schedule looks wide open tomorrow,” he says with a wink.

  “Alright, well, no more of this ‘sir’ business. Okay? And God knows I respect and love the hell out of her, but in this house”—he points to Mom—“no ‘ma’am’ either. It’s Jack and Teresa, alright?” Dad cracks a smile, a tipsy twinkle in his eye.

  “Yeah Jack, sounds just fine.” Xander says, standing and following Dad to the back door. I collect the empty bottles and grab four more before joining them.

  Mom cut me off, along with herself, a good hour ago. That’s one of the pleasures of having Mom as a boss.

  Dad and Xander do most of the talking, and their laughter breaks the still night air in waves. Out of nowhere, Dad bats wildly at his legs as embers curl his leg hairs into blackened stubs. His beer tumbles to the ground as he jumps quickly to his feet.

  We all laugh hysterically with each bumbling move. It takes Xander a moment before he eventually catches me staring from across the bonfire. It’s the kind of stare best executed after a few. He looks back at me, smiling through the dancing flames as Mom and Dad’s hysterical laughter rings loudly behind us.

  “Well, I’ll be… I think I’ve reached my damn limit!” Dad says between laughs, drawing my eyes from Xander, though I’m reluctant to look away.

  “Yeah, I might need to get back to the motel before I’m no longer able to drive,” Xander says, rising to his feet and fumbling with his keys.

  “No, you can’t drive! You’ve had as much as they have!” Mom scolds. She stands to meet Xander. “I’ll take you there.”

  “What about my truck?” I ask, relieved that my tipsy
ass won’t have to drive.

  “Caleb’s got a learner’s permit. He can drive my car behind us with Paige.”

  Dad stands again and throws an arm over Xander’s shoulder. “I need some help with the vineyard—at least for a few months. I have a lot of work that needs to be done and not enough of me to do it.” Dad points to the guesthouse above our garage. “We’ve got a nice little place up there, and seeing as you have no particular timeline, I say you stay awhile and help out. I’d be paying you of course.”

  “Sir, uh, no disrespect, but are you—?”

  “Jack.”

  “I’m sorry. Jack, are you sure you know what you’re asking right now? We’ve had a lot to drink.” Xander looks to Mom. She just smiles.

  “Positive. Be over here at nine,” Dad says, making his way to the sliding glass door.

  “We are one hundred percent positive, Xander,” Mom adds before she follows Dad to the door. He’s still struggling to open it and I can’t help but laugh.

  “Well, there is one thing. I have a dog. I don’t know if that’s a problem.”

  “You have a dog?! What kind?” My voice comes out way too high-pitched.

  “Yeah, a German Shepherd named Rowdy. Been with me for a few years.”

  “We lost our pup a few months ago to cancer. Haven’t had the heart to get another one yet. I hope to see you and Rowdy in the morning,” Dad says, finally walking into the house.

  “Xander, I’m gonna get Caleb up, and have him meet you guys out front, okay?”

  “Sounds good. Thanks, Teresa.” Xander smiles and Mom heads in after Dad.

  And now we’re alone. The fire’s dying down between us, but the cricket’s chirp is alive as ever. The bright country stars light his face in a way that makes him look like a dream—a sultry, beautiful dream.

  “So, were they serious?” Xander asks.