Into the Nothing (Broken Outlaw Series Book 1)

by BT Urruela

  All I can do is shake my head. His carelessness is appalling.

  “Can I let you in on something, Xander?”

  He nods.

  “My uncle was killed by a drunk driver a few years back. He had a wife and two daughters. She lost her husband. They lost their dad. Are you understanding what the fuck I’m trying to say?”

  He nods again, his eyes as far away from mine as they’ll go.

  “I’m so disappointed in you, Xander. And I don’t mean that in a demeaning, act-like-your-parent kind of way. I mean, you’re someone I truly respect and admire, and I was hoping you were better than this.”

  He doesn’t say a word, so I continue.

  “Do you remember anything else from last night?” I ask, wondering if he even recalls running his damn truck into the porch. With the way I found him, I highly doubt it.

  “Sort of. I know I hit something. I’m afraid of what that could have been.” He finally looks at me, pure shame in his eyes.

  “Well, thank God it wasn’t a person. Thank God you didn’t take somebody’s father away. Somebody’s son. Somebody’s brother. You only wrecked the guesthouse porch… this time.”

  He puts his face in his hands and groans. Then he stands, staggering a bit before collecting himself and walking past me to the window. He looks out and sighs.

  “So, yeah, there’s that fun little problem we now get to deal with. I already cleaned up your puke and Ethan’s on his way to tow your truck.” He looks back at me sharply. “How were the burger and fries, by the way?”

  He looks back out the window, cursing under his breath again.

  “How the fuck am I supposed to explain this, Xander? It was my Dad’s brother. He doesn’t look past stuff like this, no matter how much he likes you.”

  “I’ll just tell him the truth. And then I’ll move on.”

  “I don’t want that.”

  He glances back at me. The shame in his eyes makes my heart ache for him, but I won’t let up. Not for something like this.

  “I don’t want that either, Paige. But you’re right. We have no options. This is my fault. I’m a fucking moron, and I need to deal with the repercussions.”

  “No, I won’t let that happen. I don’t want you to go. I just don’t want you to be a fucking idiot. I mean, seriously, is that like a regular thing for you?”

  “No. Not at all.”

  I’m not sure whether to believe him or not.

  “Well, I’ve got your back this time. This time, and only this time… because I care about you. And I believe people are allowed to make a few mistakes… if you learn from them.”

  “Paige, how exactly do we explain this?”

  “Your truck is old. Brake lines go bad. That’s all we’ve got, and we’re going to roll with it. You need to get your ass in the shower, wash some of the hangover off your face and get that damn whiskey off your breath.” I pull my phone out and check the time.

  “It’s 5:32 right now. Dad will be up in a few. We’ll meet him in the kitchen for coffee as usual. You tell the story and I’ll back you up.”

  “This will never work, Paige.”

  “Well, it has to work. Unless you have any better ideas.”

  He shakes his head.

  “Well, alright then. I share everything with my Dad. I always have. I’m his only daughter. He trusts me. And if I back your story up… he’ll trust us.”

  I hope.

  “Are you sure about this, Paige?”

  “Just get in the shower, Xander.”

  I leave the guesthouse without another word.

  “So wait, what happened?” Mom looks up from her workstation and eyes me curiously.

  “It’s an old truck. I guess it had been a while since he changed out the brake lines. Luckily, he wasn’t going fast. I’m surprised you guys didn’t wake up. It was loud!” I say, as convincingly as I can. I’m naturally a terrible liar, but to my parents? That’s a whole other story.

  She seems to accept my explanation though and shifts her attention back to her pencil and paper, drawing up plans for her next project.

  “Well, you know how heavy we sleep. It’s your father’s snoring. I’ve had to train myself,” she says with a smirk.

  “Oh, trust me, Mom, you aren’t the only one who suffers. I can hear it from all the way downstairs. I’m still shocked you didn’t hear the wreck. It was pretty bad.”

  “Is Xander okay?” she asks.

  “Yeah, Brandi and I went out there right away and checked on him. He was a little shaken up, but otherwise alright. The guesthouse porch, not so much.” I laugh, scanning my mother’s face for any sign of doubt.

  Her head pops up, her eyes gazing out the front windows in thought. She looks over to me slowly, a wrinkle of concern in her forehead.

  “Do you think Cody did something to the brake lines?”

  “I thought about that at first, but Xander was at Fort Leonard Wood all day hanging out with his friend. He wasn’t even around here. Ethan’s got the truck in his shop now though, so he’ll probably be able to tell us soon.”

  She’s believing it now. I can tell by the way she looks at me. And I feel terrible for it.

  “I bet that’s what it was,” she says, shaking her head. “Pardon my language, but I’d like to kick that boy’s ass. And that’s just what he is… a boy.”

  “I know, Mom.”

  “What he did to you…” Her voice trails off, and I know without even looking at her that tears are welling in her eyes. They always do when she brings up my past with Cody. “I’ll never forget it.”

  I leave my desk and meet her at her workstation. I take her in my arms and squeeze her, holding her for a few extra seconds for good measure. She leans her head on my shoulder, sniffling.

  “It’s alright, Mama. That’s over now. Never again.” I pause a moment. “Mama?”

  “Yes, dear?” I release her and sit on a stool beside hers.

  “I think I’m falling for him.” I haven’t mentioned anything to my mother about Xander and I at this point, but she nods as if she’s known all along.

  “I feel so stupid because it’s been such a short time, but—”

  “Do you know how long I knew your dad before I was convinced I was in love?”

  I shake my head.

  “Two days. And I hated him after our first date. The man forgot his wallet, for Pete’s sake!”

  I laugh, remembering the story she so often tells… my father running terribly late, picking her up in a beater of a truck, getting all the way to the restaurant and forgetting his wallet, my mother having to pay.

  “After the next date, I knew he’d be the man I would marry.” She smiles

  “He was so charming, and dorky, and perfect. He was everything. Don’t put a time constraint on your feelings. Trust them. And trust your gut, of course. I like Xander, dear. I really do. I’d like to learn more about him, but I like what I do know. Your father likes him too. I’m not so sure he’ll like you all together though.”

  I know full well if my father doesn’t already know, he will not be happy when he finds out.

  “A lot of people at Whittaker’s last night,” she says, catching me off guard.

  “Oh god. Does he know?”

  Mom nods her head and my heart sinks.

  “When?”

  “Bryson Whittaker called your dad earlier today. Wants Xander to start playing one night a week up there or something. Talked about him being your ‘boyfriend,’ and obviously your father had all sorts of questions.”

  I drop my head in my hands. This is not good.

  “So how did Dad react?”

  “Well, you know your father. Keeps to himself mostly. Didn’t talk to me much about it after Bryson called.”

  “And Xander?”

  “I assume they will talk. But honey, if these feelings are real and this is something you want to pursue, your father will understand. He’s got a bigger heart than anyone I know. He’ll get it.” She rests a hand o
n my knee.

  “It’ll never go anywhere though.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Xander’s leaving in like a month. He’ll never come back down here again. It’ll die off eventually.”

  “Well, why does he have to leave?” Mom asks.

  “It’s a long story… and not really mine to tell, I guess. He’s just had a really rough life and has some unfinished business he needs to take care of. He could stay longer, if he wanted to, but it would be selfish of me to try and keep him here.”

  “I don’t see how it would be. Does he not feel the same?” She looks at me inquisitively.

  “Yeah, I think he does.” I hesitate, knowing full well that he does feel the same, but still battling some self-doubt.

  Could this all be a game?

  “He says he does anyway, but there’s just a whole lot to it.”

  “I don’t think anything should get in the way of love,” she says.

  My thoughts stray to Xander and his sister. The longer he stays here, the longer he puts off reconnecting with her. And that… that is what’s most important. I just can’t get in the way.

  “It’s complicated,” I say, exhaling with a long, drawn out sigh. I think about what it must be like between Xander and Daddy right now as they work, and I almost feel bad for Xander.

  Almost.

  “By the way… we’ve gotta talk about Caleb.”

  I got off easy this morning. Besides the blindingly painful headache and an unquenchable thirst, Jack seemed to buy the whole brake line story. Hell, he even suggested that Cody could have been involved. I went with it. When I need to act, I can fucking act.

  We fixed the deck ourselves, putting down new 2x4s and applying finish. Conversation was as frequent and vulgar as usual. It was around noon when things changed. He came back from taking a call in the house and hasn’t spoken a word since.

  Three hours now.

  Nothing.

  I’ve tried engaging in conversation while we work, but all his answers are short and to the point. He knows.

  I wish he would just say something already. I wish he’d just spit it out.

  “Xander.” Ah, fuck.

  “Yeah, Jack?” Here it goes. My time here has come to an abrupt end.

  “It’s a small town…” He pauses and I brace for it. “Shit gets around.” He stops again, scratching his graying five o’clock shadow. “This Cody character. He’s a dumb, worthless little prick… but he’s dangerous. He’s got a lot of dangerous friends. And some of my friends were out at Whittaker’s the other night.”

  He scans my face, perhaps trying to gauge my reaction.

  “You just gotta watch your back. Unfortunately, he’s just one of many that are taking over this town. It’s the kids these days. They’re bored after school, so they start smoking. Then they start snorting and shooting up. Just watch yourself, okay?”

  “Yeah, Jack, of course. I appreciate that. I’ve been trying to avoid the guy, but I need to do a better job of not letting him get under my skin.”

  “It’s a hard thing to do. But you also can’t go around kissing his ex right in front of him…in front of people he knows.” I freeze, hoping if I stand perfectly still, maybe—just maybe—I’ll disappear.

  “Relax. I’m not going to hit you.” He laughs, and shakes the shovel he’s holding.

  “Fuck. I’m sorry, Jack.”

  “Listen, I’m gonna let you explain yourself first. I think you should at least get that. Then we’ll figure out what’s next.”

  “It was never my intent to disrespect you, Jack. Never. I just… I don’t know. I have genuine feelings for Paige. I fought any attraction I had early on because I didn’t want to disrespect you. Because I didn’t want to disrespect your home. But… I don’t know… it just happened.” Dear Lord, man, shut the fuck up.

  “I can stomach real feelings and all that. What I can’t stomach is the thought of you with my daughter, in my house.”

  “Jack, I have never. I would never. Nothing like that has even happened. We’ve kissed, yes. That’s it. And that just happened like a week ago. I truly mean no disrespect. I’ll stop everything with her completely. I promise, though, we haven’t done anything else.”

  He settles a bit. The creases in his forehead fade. “Okay, but if you could just stop talking to my daughter like that, I’m not so sure how real those feelings truly are.”

  “I never said it would be easy, but I’ve felt bad enough as it is. I know in a way I’ve disrespected you by not telling you myself—by letting you find out from someone else. And I’m truly sorry for that.” I gauge his face for a reaction, but it’s blank.

  “Well, I love my daughter. And all I’ve ever want is for her to be happy. I want what’s best for her—”

  “I do, too,” I say.

  “If that’s the case, then we shouldn’t have any problems. But just know, if I ever find out you have or do sleep with my daughter under my roof, a shovel will be the least of your concerns. Capiche?”

  “I would never.”

  “Anybody else working for me pulls something like this and their ass is fired without question. I want you to know that,” Jack says in a matter of fact tone as he starts to dig again. “You’re still here because I like you, and though I know the actions of young men all too well, I trust what you’re telling me. And I trust my daughter wouldn’t do something like that. Just be smart and don’t make me regret keeping you here.” He stops and looks up, waiting for my respons.

  “I won’t, Jack. I won’t.”

  “Well, then that’s all I got for that part of the conversation.”

  “That part?” I ask.

  “Yeah, that was Whittaker on the phone. He’s the one who let me in on your little kiss from the other night, but he was calling for a different purpose entirely.”

  “What purpose would that be?”

  “He wants you to sing there for a few hours on Friday night. His other performer came down with something. Said it could become a regular thing. I told him ‘I didn’t even know that motherfucker played music.’” He laughs, which is quite the sound after the conversation we just had.

  “Surprise,” I say timidly.

  “You been holding out on us, boy? You some kind of pop star and I didn’t know it?”

  “Definitely not pop and far from being a star. I’m more at the alternative rock end of the spectrum. My music is too dark to be pop.”

  “Oh, you’re into that type of shit Caleb blares in his room. That emo nonsense?”

  “I actually do like that emo nonsense, I hate to admit it. I guess mine could fall into that category.”

  “Well, if you’re interested in taking him up on his offer, Bryce Whittaker’s number is on the kitchen counter. I’d be checking this shit out if Teresa and I weren’t going out of town this weekend. Next time though.”

  “Where are you off to?” I take my opportunity to change subjects without hesitation.

  “Wine contest down in Kentucky we do every year. ‘Best of the Midwest.’”

  “Coming home a winner?”

  “I always do.” He smirks, heaving a dying plant into the wheelbarrow. A still silence sits between us as we continue to work and after the words we just exchanged, I couldn’t be more thankful for it.

  As far as I can tell, Xander hasn’t had a drink all week… and he has the shakes to prove it. I hadn’t realized how much he actually drank before he cut it out completely. I guess I haven’t been much of a good influence in that department. We’re a drinking family, after all.

  He’s also been very quiet lately—especially at dinner. As Dad pounds back beers, I’ve noticed Xander makes excuses as to why he can’t. That, and he’s been faking illness all week… or maybe not faking at all. He doesn’t look good, but he’s hanging strong.

  Now he’s waiting backstage while they set up the equipment. Whittaker’s is pretty full already. Luckily, Brandi and I got here early and claimed a table in the middle, right w
here Xander asked me to be.

  I’m so glad Brandi’s off tonight, since Ethan’s sitting across from us in a pissy mood—as usual. If I had to be here alone with him and force conversation, I don’t know what I’d do. He’s just not the same anymore. He’s always been weird, but it was a different kind of weird. It was weird in an endearing kind of way. Now it’s just taxidermy, German shit porn weird. It looks like he hasn’t showered in a week. He wasn’t even invited here in the first place. He just showed up and sat down, handling his Smirnoff Ices like he can’t get enough of them.

  “You think Xander’s nervous? He hasn’t had a drink all night.” Brandi leans in and whispers, which makes Ethan huff up a storm.

  “He’s gotta be. He looked sick as all hell earlier.” I take a swig of my Coors. “I think that’s why he went backstage already. He seemed crazy nervous with all these people here.”

  “You think he’ll shit the bed?”

  I give Brandi a dirty look.

  “What?” she asks.

  “I hope he doesn’t. You better knock on some wood.” She taps two knuckles on the table and smiles. Just then, a tall, burly man approaches us from my left.

  “You Paige?” he asks, a confident twinkle in his eye. He’s looking past me though, right at Brandi. I turn and see she’s staring right back at him.

  “Yeah, hey. Irish, I presume?” He shakes my hand and then leans in toward Brandi.

  “And you must be Brandi…” She puts her hand in his, smiling wide, her eyelashes batting just the right way.

  “That I am.” Her hand lingers there for a moment before he finally lets it go. Then he walks over to Ethan, who doesn’t so much as look at him but still shakes his hand. Irish shrugs and walks back around, taking the empty seat to my left.

  “So, Irish, you live at Fort Leonard Wood, and you’re originally from… Iowa, right?” I ask. Brandi leans in for his response.

  “First off, call me Chase. Only my boys call me Irish.”

  “Well, how long they been doing that for, Irish?” Brandi asks from over my shoulder.