Into the Nothing (Broken Outlaw Series Book 1)

by BT Urruela

  “Oh shush, quit being a drama queen!”

  “Hey now, woman. I’ll do my best to play nice, but if you ever call me a drama queen again, I’m done with you!” I smirk and playfully swipe a leg against hers. “So what’s first, request or question?”

  “I think request would be the best way to start, but you have to hear me out before you say no, okay?”

  “Uh-oh. I don’t like the sound of this.”

  “Come on now, I have a feeling you can handle it. Now, no interrupting until I’m finished. I’m serious!”

  “Okay, okay. Just get it over with already.”

  “So, Whittaker’s has an open mic night every month. It’s coming up next weekend, and I want you to do it.” My head is already shaking before she even finishes her sentence.

  “No freaking way, woman. Not a chance in hell. You do remember I told you I’ve never sung in front of anyone, right?”

  “Yes, you did. And then you sang in front of me, and hun, you are amazing. It’s not fair to keep that kind of talent to yourself. You heard my vocal skills in the truck—or lack thereof, I should say. I only wish I had a voice like yours. You need to share it with other people.”

  “No freaking way,” I repeat, my head still shaking as if I were a four-year-old refusing broccoli.

  “Listen to me, Xander. I know I said this was a request, but you can just consider it a requirement. I will make your ass go up there. Beyond your vocal and guitar skills being ridiculously impressive, your lyrics, your writing… it’s beautiful. You could connect with so many people in this world through your music if you wanted. I’m not bullshitting you. I really think you have incredible talent, and it would be so disappointing if other people never got a chance to hear it.”

  “I’ve never done anything like that before. And I don’t think Truman Valley is the place I want to start.”

  “You won’t ever start. You don’t want to, and I know it can’t be because you think you’re bad. We both know full well you aren’t. I think you’re just afraid.” For a moment I’m offended, but before I can proceed, I realize she’s right.

  Spot on.

  “You can’t let fear control who you are. I’ve seen you in action. You don’t let fear control any other aspect of your life. Why this?”

  “I think it plays a bigger role in my life than you realize.” My gaze drops to the water, and my legs kick nervously back and forth, splashing the cool water back toward us.

  “Well, that’s something I hope you share with me one day, but right now, this is about your music. I don’t think anything in this world should keep you from sharing this amazing gift God’s given you.”

  “I honestly don’t even know how to respond. I don’t even know if there is a god. If there is, he sure hasn’t been there for me. Listen, I get where you’re coming from, but this has been a lifelong fear. Would I love to get up there and play? Fuck yeah. But I’m scared shitless about it. I feel like I’ll just go up there and freeze.”

  “Maybe you will… though I highly doubt it. But how will you know if you never try?”

  “That’s not helping any,” I say, flashing a nervous smile.

  “Don’t be the guy that lives with regrets. Maybe it doesn’t bother you now… but one day when you’re old and gray, you’ll regret having never tried it…just to see what it’s like, ya know? You’re amazing, Xander. Share it!”

  “Easier said than done.”

  “Maybe so, but nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? You’re so damn strong, Xander. Don’t let something like fear control who you are.”

  “And why would I do this all for a woman I’ve only known for a week and a half?”

  She looks at me, lips curled in disgust. “Well, thanks for that. Maybe I’ve only known you for a week and a half, but I’ve come to respect you as a person, and I like to think you feel the same about me.”

  “Of course! I didn’t mean it like that, Paige. I respect the fuck out of you, you know that. I wouldn’t have confronted that douchebag the other day if I didn’t. I’m just saying this has been a fear that’s messed with me my entire life. It’s going to take a whole hell of a lot to get me up there. And, honestly, I don’t think anything or anyone really could.”

  She shakes her head in disappointment. “Well, that’s really sad to hear. I think you’re making a mistake. And don’t for a second think I won’t be pestering you all week about it.”

  “Pester away, woman. I can’t be phased.”

  “Really? So being piss scared about what strangers think of you is you being unphased? Hmm…”

  Damn it. She’s got me there.

  “Let me think about it, okay? It’s not as easy as just saying yes.”

  “Actually, it is.”

  “Ugh! Didn’t you say there was a question too? I think I’m ready for that now.”

  “Don’t be so sure.” She laughs.

  “Oh god.”

  “Listen, I’ll move on to the question, but this isn’t over.”

  “Alright. Alright. The question now, please.”

  “You’re not going to like this one either. Actually, you’ll probably hate it, but you have to know it’s only because I care for you. A week and a half or not, I truly do, and I want to know more about you. More than surface-level shit. I wanna get to know the real you.”

  “I’ve been nothing but real with you.”

  “Oh, I know. I just mean we haven’t talked much about you and your life. I know you mentioned it a little at that first dinner, but based on your song, I know there’s so much more to it.” She hesitates, biting her bottom lip nervously.

  “Xander, what happened with your parents?”

  My heart sinks. Of all the potential questions running through my mind, that’s not the one I thought she would ask. In this moment, I’m without words.

  “I know it’s personal. I know I probably shouldn’t ask, but I want to know. I want you to feel comfortable sharing that kind of stuff with me.” The look on her face as she says it lets me know I’ll be telling this girl whatever she wants to hear.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Why? Damn it, Xander! Do I have to come right out and say it? I like you…a lot. I think you’re an incredible man, and while I love bullshitting with you, I want to know more. I want to know the path you took to get here. I want to know what you’re running from.”

  “God, Paige, I like you too. You must know that. I think the absolute world of you, but that’s just not something I freely share. It’s hard for me to talk about. And you know I’m leaving in a few months anyways. I mean…” My voice trails off, because I honestly have no clue what to say.

  “What exactly does that mean, Xander? What, two more months and you’ll just hightail it out of here and never talk to us again? I get that you’re leaving, but why exactly does that mean you can’t share anything with me?” Her tone becomes more agitated and I want more than anything for us to just enjoy our time out here; to not let the future get the way of right now, but I can’t find the right words to say.

  “I mean, if it’s only a stopover,” she continues. “If my family and I mean nothing to you, then fuck it. What’s the point?”

  “Paige, stop!” I put an arm around her and pull her in close enough that her perfume fucks with my senses. “I didn’t mean it like that. I love your family. It’s been really amazing getting to know them. And you? I’ve never felt so connected to someone so quickly in my life.” Her breathing picks up. Her eyes close. “You calm me. You make me feel carefree. It’s something that doesn’t usually happen for me. I just mean, no matter how I feel about you, there’s not a whole lot I can do about it. I work for your father, and in a few months I have to leave. I would never play with your feelings like that.”

  She opens her eyes, sinking a little more into my arm, and she bats her eyelashes innocently. “And why do you have to leave?”

  I want to give her the truth. I want to spill it all, but the truth is shit and
communication isn’t my best attribute. She looks me in the eyes, locking hers on mine, and rests a hand against my cheek.

  “Kiss me,” she says, catching me completely off guard.

  “Paige, I—”

  “Kiss me,” she repeats. “No more bartering. No more excuses. Just kiss me.”

  There’s not a doubt in my mind that I want to kiss her, and in this moment—this perfectly beautiful, unexpected moment—any concerns as to why we shouldn’t be together disappears. I see her in a way I haven’t seen someone for as long as I can remember. All I feel is the heat of her body against mine, the race of my beating heart, and a yearning to stay just like this forever. I take one last longing look into her eyes and then place my lips against hers. They move effortlessly with my own.

  When we part, her eyes are still closed. My hand stays right where it is, and I rub my thumb against her cheek. She slowly opens her beautiful eyes.

  “I’ve wanted that since the day I met you,” I say sincerely.

  “That makes two of us.” She smiles, nuzzling her head into my palm. The way the sun glints off her face is perfection.

  Without warning, and completely unbeknownst to me, I get the undeniable urge to spill it all; to tell her everything. I haven’t talked about it in a long time; longer than I can even remember. Now feels like the right time Now is the right time.

  “My parents died when I was seven. Murder-suicide,” I blurt out. My voice seems foreign to me. The words don’t seem real. But they are.

  My eyes are no longer on hers. My hand drops back to my side as I wait for the oncoming judgment. I don’t care what anyone says. You spill a thing like that and people look at you differently. What I get instead is her arm around my waist. She sets her other hand softly against my knee.

  “Oh, Xander. I’m so very sorry. I should’ve never asked.”

  “No, hun, it’s okay. I want to share this with you. I really do. I just didn’t know if I’d actually be able to say the words. I never have before. To anyone.”

  “Well, thank you for sharing with me, Xander. I can only imagine how hard that could’ve been. Just know I will never judge you because of your past. I will never look at you any differently than I do right now. You are amazing. Absolutely amazing.”

  I look at her, admiring the sincerity in her eyes, and I pull her against me again, setting my chin on top of her head. For this next part, I can’t look at her. It would just be too hard.

  “They were heroin addicts, and my father had a bad trip. He shot my mother in front of my sister and me, and then put the gun under his chin.”

  Paige pulls back, her eyes wide and mouth gaping, but she says nothing.

  “My sister was only two. We went into foster care immediately after, since there were no other family members to take us. My sister was adopted. I never was. Paige…” I look at her again, tears welling in my eyes. “I could never express to you what losing her did to me. What being in foster care did to me. I’ve grown past it—the foster care part, at least—but it’s something that always lives with me. You ask what I’m running from? It’s that. Florida means nothing to me but tragedy.”

  “God, babe, I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. What about your sister? Where is she?”

  “I haven’t seen her since then, and it fucking kills me. I managed to get the adoption information a few years back, but I’ve been too chicken shit to go see her. She won’t even remember me, and would she really even care to meet me anyways?”

  “Of course she would! You are blood. You can’t think like that.”

  “I know. I know. Well, you asked why I have to leave in a couple months. That’s why. I looked her up, and she’s been in the Army for the past five years. She’s currently stationed at Fort Lewis in Washington. I’ve been on a long journey building up the courage to see her. I never thought I actually would. I’ve let different things in each town keep me just a little bit longer. To occupy my headspace and help me to forget about the sister I lost. But I can’t.” As hard as I’ve fought to keep them at bay, the tears are flowing now. I try to hide my face from her, but she pulls my chin back.

  “Xander, don’t you ever be afraid to let me see the real you. Not ever.” She wipes both sides of my face and then takes my lips against hers . They’re soft and supple, and instantly I feel okay. I feel relieved.

  I feel alive.

  We kiss and talk on the dock for an hour, losing track of time, losing ourselves in the moment. This girl owns my attention.

  She’s someone I could love… and it scares the shit out of me.

  The ride back to Truman Valley has a healthy dose of country music with Paige belting along out of tune, her hand resting on my knee. The longer it sits there the more my mind races with all the unanswerable questions this situation brings. It’s not what I should do, it’s not what I want to do, but I’m afraid that falling for Paige is inevitable at this point.

  After unloading the new junkyard acquisitions for Paige and Teresa, I make my way back to the house.

  Rowdy relieves himself and goes back to his favorite teddy, of which I have to replace every three days or so. Jack waves me down from the barn. It’s only two p.m., but he’s already sweated up a storm, his overalls coated in grease as usual.

  “How was it? You see the Arch?”

  “Yeah, I find it even harder to believe that thing has elevators in it. No way in hell I’m ever getting in there.” He laughs, pulling a large, stainless steel cylinder from the barn, a nozzle protruding from the top. ORGANIC PESTICIDES, INC is printed on the label.

  “Yeah, it’s a trip. How’d everything go business-wise?”

  “No problems at all. Paige took a few hours to collect everything she needed, but the wine guys were easy. I was waiting awhile for Paige to get done browsing.” I smirk, rubbing away the beads of sweat beginning to trickle down my forehead.

  “Well, I hope that means you’re up for some outdoor labor. We’ve got some plants to protect. Something’s been killing them off lately, and though I think it’s no accident, I have to take precautions.” He points toward the cylinder as he heaves another one from the barn. “And then I need you to grab Caleb from school at five-thirty. The ladies are going to be busy organizing the new inventory. Go get changed and I’ll grab you a mask.”

  “Alrighty. Sounds good. I’ll be out in two.” I turn and head to the guesthouse.

  The Truman Valley High School parking lot is bustling with kids and cars are log-jammed in the small parking lot at the front of the school. I pull into a lower lot with a little less chaos, and text Caleb to meet me.

  Five minutes pass and there’s still no response. To my left, a group of teens emerge from the woods, which catches my attention. There are four of them. One of them is trying to get away. Three of them are swinging wildly and trying to pull the other back into the woods. I peer in their direction to get a better look. They’ve yet to see me.

  It’s fucking Caleb.

  His frail arms cover his face. His black, oversized band tee is ripped. His mouth is bleeding. Fucking faggot, I can hear them say. Fuck you, emo pussy!

  I open the door, slamming it behind me, and it draws their attention. They immediately stop hitting him, but their hands remain tightly gripped to the tattered remains of his shirt.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” My voice, far from calm, tears from my mouth in a growl. The kids, no older than fifteen and small themselves compared to me, immediately release their grips. Their beady eyes stare in confusion before they turn and take off running. They run as fast as their little pretzel stick legs will allow until they’re out of sight.

  Caleb doesn’t react for a moment. He stands, eyes fixed to the ground. Fresh beads of blood trickle down his lips.

  I take a few steps forward and his head pops up, his eyes locking on mine. There’s no more humiliation. Only rage.

  “Why did you fucking do that?” He swipes an arm across his bloody lips and spits a blood clot from his mouth
. I almost can’t believe my ears. I just saved this kid from a complete ass kicking and he’s mad at me.

  “What the fuck are you talking about, Caleb? Get in the truck.” I turn and head back toward where I parked when I hear him take a few quick steps closer. If looks could kill…

  “They would’ve stopped soon. They always do. Why did you fucking do that?”

  “Dude, fuck that. I’m not going to just watch that shit happen to you. Get in the truck, Caleb. Come on.” A few teachers and students have noticed us. The teachers quickly avert their gaze as if they never even saw the beaten boy crying on the pavement.

  “They’ll never leave me alone now,” he sobs. I look around awkwardly, unsure of how exactly to respond. I’m not cut out for these kinds of situations.

  “Caleb, get in the truck,” I say sternly and he finally complies. I follow, throwing him a towel from the bench seat, and he presses it to his face as he climbs in.

  “Why do you let them hit you like that? One, two, three, it doesn’t matter…you gotta hit back. They get bored with the ones that stick up for themselves. It’s no fun anymore when you’re getting hit right back.”

  He looks at me and scowls, the bloody rag clutched tightly in his hands. “And how the fuck would you know anything about that?”

  “You fucking kidding me, kid? You think I was always in shape? You think I grew up two hundred pounds? You think I grew up easy? Fuck no. When I was fourteen, I was your size. When I was fourteen, I was in a fucking orphanage.”

  He’s no longer humiliated or angry, only skeptical. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

  “Nah, I’m not the type to fuck around. I’m serious. Just like you, I grew up in a boys’ home.”

  “Are you fucking with me?” he repeats.

  “I’m not. You don’t want to go toe to toe with me on what a rough life means. You had it hard, no doubt about that, but you got it really fucking good now. Your parents love you. They take care of you. They’re there for you. It’s more than a lot of kids have. It’s more than you or I had starting out. It’s something I never got.” I hold up two fingers. “Two things you gotta take away from this conversation. One, start working out… start hitting a heavy bag, start fighting back. Play a fucking sport or something, for Christ’s sake. And two, don’t ever think you got it so bad again, because really, you don’t. You had it damn hard, and by the grace of God you found people that truly love you. Appreciate that. Got it?”