Into the Nothing (Broken Outlaw Series Book 1)

by BT Urruela

  “Huh?”

  “You were both in PJs, I assume?”

  I nod. “Well, a tank and short shorts.”

  “And I assume you both spoke to him when you saw him, right?”

  Another nod.

  “So where were his eyes? On you… or on her?”

  I think about this for a moment, not immediately recalling who exactly he was looking at. But as I scan my brain for the events that transpired earlier, I’m pleased with what I find.

  “Me.” I can feel her smile.

  “You liiiiike him.” She makes kissing faces and gets far more of a kick out of it than I do.

  “You and Brandi, I swear. What the hell am I going to do with you two?”

  “You know you love us.” Mom smiles and déjà vu hits me from my conversation with Brandi earlier. They are so alike. Too alike sometimes. But God, how I love them.

  Mom managed to finish the day’s sculptures in record time, and she currently has a pot roast in the slow cooker. It fills the house with a delightful aroma, making my stomach growl with anticipation. Dad helps set the table. He’s in from work far earlier than usual and helps Mom set the table.

  The chilly early March air bites at my skin as I cross the gravel driveway to the guesthouse to get Xander for dinner. Just as I reach the door, I hear an acoustic guitar being played flawlessly, followed by the muffled sound of Xander singing. I can’t make out the words through the door, but the beauty in his voice is obvious. It’s sounds somewhere between Aaron Lewis and Kurt Cobain, with a touch of gravel but also sweet and alluring. He hits every note perfectly, holding it just long enough. There’s pain in his words, but something else too. It’s hard to tell. Maybe hope?

  Before I even realize it, I’ve spent five minutes with my ear against the door. When he finishes his song, I snap back to reality. I rap two knuckles against the door and hear an ‘oh shit,’ followed by the loud clatter..

  “Just a second!” he calls, his voice cracking. A moment passes and then I hear, “Alright, it’s open.” I walk in and he’s sitting on the bed, his guitar case stuffed underneath it but still peeking out.

  “So, I was told to get you for dinner, but that’s just about the last thing on my mind right now.”

  His eyes dart across the room.

  “What do you mean?” he asks, knowing full well he’s caught. His bashful state makes him that much more appealing in my eyes.

  “I heard you. You are so talented.”

  He cracks a nervous smile. “What? I just had the radio playing.”

  My eyes roll, and my hands hit my hips. “You little shit, play something for me!” He looks shocked and feigns offense. “No way. I’ve never played in front of anyone.”

  “You just did. I was outside the door for a good five minutes. Now play for me.”

  “Nope. Never.” He crosses his arms. It’s just about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

  I’m pouting now. The kind I’ve practiced many times throughout my life. First, to get what I wanted from Dad, and later, from boys I’ve dated. I like to think I’ve mastered it.

  “Listen lady, I’m sure that look works on these little Missouri boys, but growing up in Florida a man learns better than to trust a woman with a good puppy-dog face.” He gets up and nudges me just a little with his hip as he slips past me and out the door. “Now, what’s for dinner?” he asks without turning back.

  “I’ll have you know this look has been proven to work everywhere! I’m international, baby!” He’s through the back door of the house before I even finish my sentence.

  Mom scoops up the plates as Caleb slinks back up to his room. Although he only pecked at his food, the rest of us did the exact opposite, filling ourselves to Thanksgiving Day levels. Mom scurries past me and slides a hand across my shoulders, giving me the wide-eyed ‘I’m going to say something and you’re going to go with it’ look.

  “So Paige, with the wine festival next weekend, I was thinking maybe it’d be a good time for Xander get out and about and get to know some other people in town.”

  “Mom, he’s still getting settled in. I’m sure he’d like to take some time getting used to us before being bombarded by the whole town.” Mom takes a seat again, smiling.

  “What makes you think he’ll be bombarded? We aren’t a town of flesh-eating zombies, dear. If he’s going to be staying through the summer, he’s going to want to meet some other people besides us.”

  “Mom, why are you talking about him like he’s not here?”

  “You started it!” She pokes her tongue out at me and then turns her attention back to Xander.

  “So, Xander, what do you think?” Without letting him respond, she begins her sales pitch. “I don’t know if you know this or not, but this part of Missouri has a lot of really good wineries. They’re all across the state. Not that I’m biased or anything, but my husband’s pinot noir is the best. It’s been voted number one in the state, six years running. And that’s out of about twenty-five!”

  Dad smiles appreciatively at her. He reaches a hand over and caresses the back of her neck.

  “I think the festival sounds pretty good. I like a good pinot noir,” Xander says.

  Our faces say it all.

  “What? I swear I do. I’ve grown to appreciate wine in my old age.”

  Dad laughs as he gets up. He pats a heavy hand against Xander’s shoulder.

  “You’ve got a long way to go, kid.”

  Xander’s eyes follow Dad as he grabs more beer from the fridge. There’s a mischievous smile on his face. “Shit, what are you pushing, seventy? Seventy-five? I guess I do have some catching up to do.”

  Dad crows, having trouble placing the four beers in front of us. “You better watch it! Remember who’s signing your paychecks.”

  “Jack Michael, language!” Mom says sharply, though a smile is tugging at the corners of her lips.

  Dad motions his beer toward Xander. “He started it.”

  My Chewbacca text alert brings a wide smile and approving nod from Xander.

  Brandi: Hey bitch, I kno ur off. Visit meeeee!

  “Oh shit, I’ve actually gotta pass on another beer, Dad. I told Brandi I’d go up to Whittaker’s after I got off. She’ll be a baby if I don’t go for at least a few.”

  “Perfect. Why don’t you take Xander with you, then?” Mom asks. “But if you two have more than a few, you call me!”

  She gives me the motherly finger wag, but she knows me better than that. I would never drink and drive. I lost an uncle on my dad’s side to a drunk driver a few years back. It really messed the family up. Since then, it’s not even a question.

  “That’s if Xander wants to go,” Mom adds.

  “Yeah, I’m up for it.” His eyes meet mine. “You driving or am I?”

  “I got it,” I say, sliding from the table. I smile to myself at the thought of how impressed he’s about to be.

  Xander stands, as does Mom, and he stretches, patting his stomach.

  “Ma’am, that was probably the best meal I’ve had in my entire life. And I’m not even kidding. I feel like I should be paying you for letting me eat here.”

  Mom laughs and opens her arms wide. “As long as you’re living here, you’re a Watson. Now bring it in. I’m a hugger, and with that ‘best meal’ line, you’ve now become my favorite person in the house.”

  She hugs Xander, disappearing into his arms. When she releases him, she makes her way to me, grabbing me and pulling me in.

  Her lips meet my forehead. “You be safe. Call me if you need anything, okay? Love you, baby.”

  “Okay, we will. I promise. Love you too, Mama.”

  I pull my ‘69 Chevelle SS from the garage and the growl of the 454 big block catches his immediate attention as he exits the guesthouse. His eyes are wide and fixated on my powder blue beauty. He climbs in the passenger side with the same expression on his face as I pull down the gravel drive.

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”


  “What?” I ask, acting clueless.

  “Uh, this car. It’s amazing. How long have you had it?”

  “You’re totally going to judge me.”

  “I won’t judge.”

  “Well, it was kind of a sixteenth birthday present from my dad.” Immediately, he huffs and rolls his eyes, and I give him a stern look in response. “Hey jerk, you said you wouldn’t judge.”

  “I’m not!”

  “Oh yeah? What’s this, then?” I do my best impression of the attitude he just gave me, but he just cracks up.

  “Okay, okay… so, sixteenth birthday. But why a Chevelle?”

  “I’ve always wanted one. I begged and begged, and Dad always said if I kept a 3.5 or above my first two years of high school, then he’d get it for me.”

  “And I take it you did?”

  “4.0, thank you very much.” I wink and instantly feel as if I’ve been too cocky. He doesn’t seem to mind though.

  “Well shit, I’d buy you a Chevelle, too. I squeaked by with a 1.5 at best. School was about the last thing on my mind. I always assumed I’d play guitar for some famous band or something. Who needs school if you’re a rock star, right?” He chuckles to himself before looking back over at me. “So after you got the car, did your grades go to shit?”

  “No sir. I kept them up, for the most part. I don’t want to talk about my grades though. Let’s go back to this music thing. Why aren’t you fronting a famous rock band? You’re amazing. Honestly!”

  “I’ve got a pretty gnarly case of stage fright. It’s about the only thing that does really get to me. Singing, sharing a part of yourself with others… that’s never been my life. Never what it’s been about.”

  “So what has it been about then?”

  “That’s a whole other story for a whole other time.”

  “Well, we’ve got all summer.” I pull into Whittaker’s lot and park. Scanning the lot for my ex’s truck, I’m relieved to see it’s not here.

  We head inside the half-empty bar and Brandi squeals when she sees us. Making her way around the counter, she gives me a huge hug, nearly knocking me over in the process.

  “Thank you! I’m sooooo fucking bored!” She lets go and eyes Xander from head to toe. “Well, hello again, stranger. Long time, no see. You get a hug, too.”

  She stands on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around him with a squeeze before letting him go.

  “Good to see you too, Brandi,” he says.

  “How was your first day with the old man? He’s a fuckin riot, right?” She makes her way back around the bar and sets two cocktail napkins down. We each take a seat and she starts making my usual vodka, water and lime. “Xander, what are you drinking by the tonight?”

  “Grab me a pale ale, please. One of the Schlafly. And yeah, it wasn’t bad at all. He’s a real good dude.”

  She sets my drink down, pops the top off the beer and places it in front of Xander.

  “Ethan is coming up later. Did he text you?” Brandi asks and I check my phone. There are two unread texts from him.

  “I guess he did. What time?”

  “He said ‘around eight.’ Then he said ‘maybe nine.’ I don’t know. You know how all over the place he is.” She rolls her eyes and wipes the counter aimlessly with a dirty dish rag.

  “Yeah, no kidding.”

  As she tends to a regular across the bar I turn my attention to Xander. “Ethan is a good friend of ours. Weird guy, but he’s sweet. The three of us went to school together, and he’s had my back with some stuff in the past.”

  I bite my lip, fighting back the memory of Ethan grabbing Cody off me, only to get the living shit beat out of him. It was the first time Cody came after me, and it was the first time I left him.

  Not long after was the first time I took him back.

  “That’s cool. A friend of yours is a friend of mine,” Xander says, sipping his beer and then flashing me that smile I’m already too smitten with.

  “So that ‘whole other story at a whole other time’ business… seems like as good a time as any.” I nudge him with my elbow.

  “No, that’s not really bar talk. It’s not really ‘Hey, I just met you’ talk either.” He laughs and takes a swig of his beer. I know I should leave it be, but his vulnerability when I bring it up makes me selfishly want to know. It makes me need to know. In the end, I guess I’m as curious as my father.

  “How about twenty questions?” I ask.

  “I hate twenty questions.”

  “How about five questions, then?”

  He cracks a smile and lifts an eyebrow. “How about three?”

  “Deal!”

  “So, have I mentioned how much I fucking hate Tuesdays?” Brandi’s voice cuts right between us. Xander looks relieved.

  Me? Not so much. ”Damn it, Brandi!”

  “What?”

  “Oh nothing. Can you grab me Fireball though? Pretty please. Two of them.” I look at Xander. “You’re taking one.”

  “Three. I am too, bitch! Fuck Tuesdays!” Brandi calls out from across the bar as she begins filling the shot glasses from the Fireball chiller.

  “Question one. You said you’ve been traveling awhile now, right? Do you ever get tired of it? Ever feel like settling?”

  “Damn. Starting out with the heavy hitters, huh?” He eyes the shot glasses as if hoping it will somehow make them fill faster.

  “Need me to go easier on you? Maybe a finger or two first before I go in with the whole fist?”

  He looks at me in disbelief. “Did you really just say that?”

  “Just answer the question, two fingers or three?”

  “What am I going to do with you?” He laughs and shakes his head. “Shit, I didn’t even know you could talk when I first met you. I’m relieved to know you’re more than able.” He holds up a balled fist. “And no, I’m good with the fist. I’ve had practice.” He says with a wink.

  My face contorts in disgust at the thought and he drops his hand, poking a tongue out at me.

  “Anyway, to answer your question, I kind of settled in Georgia. As settled as I’ve ever been I guess. It never really did feel like home though. Come to think of it, I can’t say anywhere ever really has. Sometimes it’s easier that way.”

  “Were you always in foster care?” I immediately regret asking. It isn’t my place, but my damn curiosity has gotten the best of me. “Never mind. I’m sorry I asked. I shouldn’t have.”

  “It’s okay, really. It’s not really a big deal to talk about.” He clears his throat. “I spent the first few years of my life—seven or eight, I guess—with my biological parents. The rest were spent in foster care,” he says, swallowing hard. “I don’t have much in the way of family and Ocala stopped being home quite a while ago.”

  Brandi brings shots over, interrupting our conversation. She sets ours down and lifts hers up. “To Xander getting acquainted with the beautifully miserable town of Truman Valley.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” I say, raising my own, and we proceed to down them. She tosses the plastic shot glasses in the trash and makes her way around the bar to make her rounds.

  “So did any of the foster homes actually feel like home?” No filter I’m telling you.

  “Is that your second question? Shit, actually that would be your third. Aren’t I supposed to get one?”

  “No, they’re both just parts of the first question,” I say with a coy smile.

  “You’re killing me. Making up your own rules now?” He laughs and shakes his head. “Okay, okay, so to answer your question, no, none of them did. And that counts as the second question at least. As for my question, I want to know what the hardest thing in your life has been.” The way he says it comes off so condescending.

  “What? You think because I didn’t spend time in foster care that I haven’t struggled? Seriously?”

  Xander’s face turns red, his mouth gapes open. “Wait, wait, wait… down girl! Are you always so quick to assume? You were asking about one o
f the toughest parts of my life. I figured I’d even it out a little.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Okay? I meant no offense. I swear. You don’t have to answer that question, okay? It was stupid.”

  “No, it’s alright.” I hesitate for a moment because I don’t often talk about my past, particularly with strangers, but something makes me want to tell him. His presence is comforting.

  “My ex was abusive,” I blurt out, bringing a look of shock to Xander’s face. I can feel his eyes burning a hole through me, so I continue talking to fill the awkward void.

  “We were high school sweethearts, and for a long time things were normal. In college, he was the star quarterback. He was highly rated and supposed to go into the NFL. But he pissed hot for steroids and ended up getting his scholarship taken away. He started drinking more and doing drugs, and that’s when everything changed.”

  My mind takes me back to the exact night, one I’m not likely to forget. Drunk and hopped up on something, Cody pushed me around at my parents’ lake house. Only Ethan and Brandi were with us and, unfortunately, Ethan paid dearly.

  I didn’t know what to do. I loved Cody. I really did. He checked every box I had before everything changed. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I could change him.

  “I’m so sorry, Paige. I feel like shit for how I came across earlier,” Xander says, his hand meeting my shoulder again.

  “It’s okay. I’ve kind of learned to accept it and move on. It was just a lot. Once the abuse started, it never really stopped, and I just had no clue how to get out.”

  “How did you get out?”

  “It took a long time. I opened up to Mom after a little persistence from Brandi. I wanted to tell someone for so long, but I was so scared. Near the end, I thought he might really hurt me. Like something worse than the bumps and bruises. Dad was the last one I wanted to tell, but Mom eventually convinced me otherwise. He went over to Cody’s house and beat the ever-loving shit out of him. Told him if he ever saw him around me again, he’d kill him. I’ve been lucky enough to only run into him a few times since. It’s such a small town… kind of a hard thing to avoid.”