Sharpening His Broken Talon
Living Art, Book Two
River Mitchell
After Glows Publishing
Sharpening His Broken Talon
© Copyright 2017 River Mitchell
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Published by After Glows
PO Box 224
Middleburg, FL 32050
AfterGlowsPublishing.com
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Cover by Scott Carpenter
Formatting by AG Formatting
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All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Contents
Introduction
1. Talon
2. Tate
3. Talon
4. Tate
5. Talon
6. Tate
7. Talon
8. Tate
9. Tate
10. Talon
11. Tate
12. Talon
13. Tate
14. Talon
15. Tate
16. Talon
17. Tate
18. Talon
19. Tate
20. Talon
Epilogue
About the Author
Note from the Publisher
Sharpening His Broken Talon
For years, Talon Parker lived in a whirlpool of pain and silence. Forever feeling lonely, but never allowing anyone to get too close. He’s stuck and drowning.
The move across the country was the fresh start he’d always wanted. The chance to leave the pain and his past behind. He should have known that it would never be that easy. Thrust into a loud and brash but loving family, Talon’s life is suddenly opened up to new and often unwanted scary and painful situations.
Tate Cartwright never expected the change his life would take upon meeting his foster brother and best friend’s new family. Luckily, he was never one to run away from a challenge and was always ready to face any obstacle with a smile on his face. Digging in, he prepares for the fight of his life because he knows that no matter the struggles, what is at the end of the tunnel will be worth the trouble.
The saying “Stronger together, than apart” could not be more accurate for what Talon and Tate are about to face. Are they strong enough to survive it or will history repeat itself?
I dedicate this book to anyone who was told they couldn’t do something. I am living proof that you can, and if you
haven’t succeeded yet, I believe that if you try hard enough and never give up you will get there. I believe in you.
Huggles and Cuggles
1
Talon
“T, get up, bro. You’re going to be late,” I heard shouted through my door. I did not want to get up. I did not want to go back to that fucking awful place, and I absolutely did not want to deal with the people I knew I was going to see when I got there.
Another loud bang on my door and I knew there was no more putting it off. I loved my little brother to pieces, but if anyone could be annoying enough to get me moving, it’s he. I was just going to have to suck it up and stop trying to put off the inevitable. I thought when we moved here this would be my fresh start. A place that I could start over and not dread waking up in the morning, scared of what I was going to have to face. Or more to the point, who I was going to have to face.
I dragged myself out of bed and headed for the shower. I hoped at some point I could work up the courage to let Dad know how much I hated how things were. Sadly, though, as much as I wished it were, today was not that day. I was already a huge disappointment to him; I really didn’t want to make his opinion of me worse. That was total bullshit, and I knew that. My dad loved all his kids the same and showed us all how much on a daily basis. I knew it was my own mind turning against me that made me feel like I was a failure. I just wished I was a son he could be proud of. At least now he had a new eldest son that could fill that void.
My newly found brother was the reason for our relocation. As soon as Dad discovered he had another kid out there, nothing could stop him from wanting to get to know him. So he moved across the country and not just him. He moved us all. My sister, Molly, who had been out of the family home for years, pulled up stakes and came with us. My little brother didn’t really get a choice since he was only fifteen. Where Dad went, so did Tristan. I could have stayed, I guess. I just really needed a do over, and besides, I wanted to be with my family.
Looking into the bathroom mirror, I shook my head and looked away from the reflection before quickly heading to the shower. At least I didn’t have to look at myself in there.
Clothed and as ready as I was going to get, I picked up my bag by the door and headed down the hall, following the sound of my dad’s and brother’s voices and laughter. I would give anything to be able to join in with them, but sadly, it was just another thing on the ever-growing list of things that I couldn’t do. Not yet, but I hoped to get there one day.
“Talon, what time are you home today? Will it be before two o’clock? I get to try out for the football team today. Will you be able to come and watch? Dad is coming. Do you think I should ask Hunter? Do you think he would want to go to something like that?” My brother’s questions were flying out in rapid succession, and it was hard to keep up. It really was hard not to love the little shit. He didn’t care that I was different; I was just his big brother. He never asked why he was stuck with a dud for a brother. He’d never seen me as being wrong, just different, and he didn’t care what my differences were. I was who I was to him, and he wouldn’t change me at all. He had told me so enough over the years. Our family had always been super tight. Dad and Molly were the same as Tristan: always loving me fiercely, regardless of how I felt about myself. They knew I struggled; they just had no idea how much. Well, Tristan did, but he kept my secret. He really was an awesome little brother.
There was nothing I wouldn’t do for my family—to show them that I was so grateful for them helping me and for never wishing I was anything different. I just wish I didn’t.
I was brought back to the present when I heard the pain in my brother’s voice. “He probably wouldn’t want to go.” I looked over at Dad, who was looking at Tristan now, too. It took a lot for Tristan to sound this way. He was so full of energy and was usually bouncing off the walls. The kid never ran out of smiles. At 6’2” and built like a WWE wrestler, my little brother could be all kinds of intimidating. That was until you started talking to him and realized that he really was just a fifteen-year-old kid and not some hardened street-smart wiseass, his size could be a little intimidating for some people. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and when he took a knock emotionally, it hit him hard. Dad, Molly, and I have always had time for him. He couldn’t understand why Hunter didn’t want to get know him or any of us.
Since moving here, we have seen our elusive big brother all of three times. And
that included the welcome to the family party he and his friends threw almost four months ago.
I leaned over the counter where I knew there was a pen and paper. There were lots of them planted all over the house for me. I wrote down what I wanted to say and showed it to Tristan so he could read it.
The huge, bright smile I got was all I needed to ignore the discomfort I was going to endure to do this for him.
“Really?” Tristan asked. I nodded and pointed to Dad so that he’d show him the note I wrote while I sat down to some cereal already out on the counter.
Tristan quickly gave the note to Dad, the whole time bouncing around with excitement. Dad read it, looked up at me, and raised his brow at me. He knew how hard this was going to be for me. He also knew that I would do anything for Tristan. “Love you, son.” I nodded and rubbed my palm on my chest, which was my sign for ‘love you.’
Dad put the note down and told Tristan to go and get ready if he wanted to go with me. Which he did with such speed, I almost expected a cartoon smoke trail to follow him.
“You sure you’re okay with this?” Dad asked quietly.
I nodded and pointed to the ceiling to signal Tristan; he nodded, and I knew he got it. Dad left the kitchen to get ready, I assume, with a pat to my shoulder.
I looked down at the note I’d written and could feel the nerves already creeping in. What on earth had possessed me to write that?
* * *
Go get ready for school, and I will take you.
On the way over, we can stop at Hunter’s and ask
him if he would like to come and watch your try
out.
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Within fifteen minutes, Tristan was back and eager to get going. He shouted our goodbyes to Dad, and we headed out to my car, my baby, the love of my life. My car was my pride and joy; Dad bought me this car when I was sixteen. He and I worked hard on restoring it from rust bucket to perfection, at least in my eyes. A 1976 Pontiac GTO, all black and chrome. I felt as if there should be fanfare every time I saw him. That thought brought a smile to my face. Pony: that was his name. Named by Tristan when he was just a little guy and unable to say Pontiac; it just stuck.
“Morning, Pony,” Tristan said as he got in. I have trained him well. Respect Pony and Pony will respect you. Smiling over at him, I gave him a thumbs-up and got a bright smile back.
It didn’t take ten minutes to get to Hunter and his partner’s house. Tristan didn’t give me the chance to get worked up about it. He was out of the car and halfway up the pathway before I even had the chance to turn the engine off. I got out of the car at a much slower pace, knowing that with all his exuberance, Tristan wouldn’t knock until I was with him.
The second I reached him, his arm shot out and he was pressing the bell. I thought that he was worried I would change my mind on him and pull him back to the car to make an escape.
“Don’t you open that door, mister; you know the rule,” was shouted from somewhere inside.
“I wasn’t going to. I was going to look and see who it was. I am allowed to be nosey. You never gave me a rule about that,” was yelled back from much closer to the door and from a much younger person.
“Gamma has corrupted you. You be sure and tell her that,” said a much clearer voice. A much clearer voice with a very prominent English accent.
Tristan was smiling at me when the door swung open. Alfie and his little brother, Griffin, I think his name is, stood there. Tristan, who was only seconds ago unable to contain his excitement, was now very shy and just staring. Oh, this is going well, I thought to myself. I tapped Tris on the shoulder and pointed to Alfie, trying to prompt him into asking to speak to Hunter.
“Is Hunter home?” he asked quietly.
Alfie opened his mouth to talk but his little brother answered the question. “Nope, he just left to go to his shop. Deliveries, right, Alfie?” he shared then looked to his brother to confirm what he told us was true.
“Yeah, you just missed him. He has been having a right pickle with one of his suppliers. Is there anything that I can do?”
“Erm… Well… I—” Tristan looked at me and I slung my arm around his shoulder to give him the courage to continue. “I have my football try-out today, and I was kind of thinking that maybe Hunter would want to come and watch. Talon always comes and Molly. Dad is going to be there and well, Hunter has never seen me play.” I felt him lean farther into my side as if steeling himself, ready for the rejection.
“Who’s Hunter?” Griffin asked.
“That is Fear’s birth name,” Alfie explained, and his brother nodded.
“Can I come watch the football?” Griffin cut in.
Tristan looked at me, not knowing what to say. I knew that he would love everyone to come and watch him play, but he also didn’t want to promise something to a little kid he couldn’t deliver. I mimed writing to Tristan so he knew what I wanted.
“Do you have a pen and paper for Talon to write down what he wants to say? Please.” Alfie nodded and grabbed up the pen and pad just inside the door by the phone. I smiled my thanks and started to write.
You are all more than welcome to come.
It starts at 2:30pm at the high school out on
the sports field.
Do you think that you could ask Hunter to come?
It would really mean a lot to Tristan.
* * *
When I finished writing, I handed the note pad to Alfie. Before he was even finished reading, he was nodding. He really did seem like a nice guy. Definitely the ying to Hunter’s yang. Not that Hunter had ever been rude or mean, just unapproachable maybe. Closed off. A feeling I knew all too well.
“Can I take your cell phone number, and I’ll text you once I talk to him? Is that okay?” he asked, looking between both Tristan and me. He handed me back the pad, and I quickly wrote my number down. I smiled my thanks again, and with a quick wave at Griffin, we headed back to the car.
Once in and on our way to take Tristan to school, he asked, “You think he will come?” Not wanting to get his hopes I up, I shrugged and held up my crossed fingers. I had no idea if he would come, but I really wanted him to for Tristan’s sake.
2
Tate
“Please tell me again why I am here at this ungodly hour,” I groaned. I should’ve been in bed all cozy. Not here, hungry and craving a cup of coffee.
Coffee, coffee, where art thy coffee? It was the nectar of the gods and should be worshipped. How I chose to show my worship was to drink large amounts of it regularly throughout my day.
“Would you quit your griping? For fuck’s sake. You think I want to be here this early?” Fear, my best friend and boss, asked in his usual low rumble.
“Yes, yes I do think that. I think that you are up this early anyway because of the nuggets and being here allows you a get out of jail free card for an hour or two,” I said, referring to Fear’s boyfriend’s younger siblings that he had guardianship of. I loved those little nuggets to death, but they were a handful in the morning. And having grown up with Fear, I knew, like me, he was not a morning person.
“Hey, I’ll have you know I love my nugget time,” he said with an almost straight face. Fear, who was until recently a moody bastard, was smiling more and more and loved it. We all saw the change in him, and I could honestly say that it made me happy down to my bones.
The sound of the door opening had us both turning around in time to watch Hayley struggle through the door with JJ in her arms while pulling the stroller behind her. Fear was up and over to her in a second, taking his nephew into his arms while I grabbed the stroller. Hayley didn’t seem to even break her stride when she huffed past us over to her desk and fell into her chair. It was clear that she was exhausted.
“You know the baby goes inside the stroller? Just an FYI.” I thought it helpful to point out the obvious. The look I received for my kind gesture, though, would’ve brought a lesser man to his knees. But having known Hayley almost as long as I had
known Fear, I knew all her looks and they no longer worked on me. I was immune to all but two of her looks now.
“Don’t start with me this morning, Tate; I have had about two hours sleep and my tits are so sore I feel like that they might actually fall off.” She really did look tired, but the tit information was a tad TMI, and if the look Fear was wearing was anything to go by, he thought so, too.
“Where’s John?” Fear asked, never taking his eyes away from the little guy in his arms.
“He has that job interview with Ben this morning. He has been up with me all night so I had to give him a little time this morning. Mama Sheri brought me; she’s just gone over to the diner for some coffee,” Hayley shared. Before I could pull my phone out to text Mama Sheri that I would love her forever if she would bring me my fix, the door opened again, bringing with it the most amazing aroma ever invented.
“Morning, my babies. I bring you coffee and breakfast. Alfie told me you were both here early, and I know my boys. They’ll be moaning about wanting coffee and food but not getting off their little booties to go and get any.” It hadn’t taken long for Alfie’s mother, Sheridan, to get to know us and our ways. The woman was like a damn tornado and all of us were just swept up along with her.
The moment she’d found out that none of us had parents to speak of and hadn’t had throughout most of our childhood, she immediately went into mother hen mode and declared us all her children. A role that she took seriously. Alfie, her biological son, didn’t seem to mind in the least. According to him, it was nice that he got to finally share some of the crazy. I loved her instantly and grasped onto everything she was offering, holding on tight with both hands.
Sharpening His Broken Talon (Living Art Book 2) Page 1
