Fighting for Us: A Small Town Family Romance (The Bailey Brothers Book 2)

by Claire Kingsley

  “Eli, wait.”

  He didn’t. He unfastened the tool belt, letting it drop to the ground. Then he turned on his heel and quickly walked back home.

  I rubbed my chest, feeling like I’d just been kicked in the sternum. I’d assumed he’d been too little to remember me going to prison. Clearly I’d been wrong. And when he laid it all out like that, it was no wonder he acted the way he did. In his eyes, every man who’d ever been an important part of his life had left him, starting with his own father.

  He still had his other brothers, and I’d seen how happy he was when he visited them. But they were all busy with their own young families. And although they were only half an hour away, it wasn’t the same. They hadn’t filled the hole Elijah had inside him.

  A hole I’d had a hand in creating.

  35

  Asher

  For the next week or so, Elijah avoided me like the plague. I saw him sometimes when I was at Gram’s, but he’d quickly disappear. I wasn’t sure what to do—whether I should wait it out and let him decide to talk to me again, or push harder and try to patch things up. My inexperience with kids left me feeling indecisive and frustrated.

  The thing was, I understood how he felt more than he realized. I knew how hard it was to lose people. And I knew what it was like to carry a hot coal of anger around all the time. I’d been like that as a kid, and I struggled with it now.

  I was trying to let that anger go and ease back into life here. But it was fucking hard.

  I’d left the enclosure half-finished, thinking I’d try to coax Eli into helping me with it again. But eventually, I decided to just get it done. I wasn’t going to live here with Gram much longer and I didn’t want to leave any projects unfinished.

  I went out back and got to work, my head full of unanswered questions. About Elijah, my job, my living situation. About whether I could move forward with Grace.

  Where I went next after staying with Gram had become a silent question looming over everything. Grace hadn’t pushed for me to move in with her, but I knew it was what she wanted. Which wasn’t unreasonable. She’d bought the house on Evergreen Street for us. And every time I thought about that, I was hit with a volatile mix of emotions. I loved her for it, and I was so proud of her.

  But I wondered if that house represented a future that didn’t exist anymore. I didn’t quite feel like I belonged there. It was more hers than ours.

  I hadn’t talked to her about that yet. I didn’t know how to bring it up without hurting her feelings. She’d been nothing but patient with me, and I loved her so fucking much. But living with her in that house represented every one of my fears. That I couldn’t be the provider and protector she needed—and deserved. That I might never be ready to be a father.

  But I knew how much it would hurt her if I moved into my own place once I left Gram’s. She’d probably tell me she understood. That she could be patient—again. Or still. But would time spent living on my own make a difference?

  We were giving things a summer, but as the season went on, I didn’t feel like I was any closer to knowing what was right. Whether I was cut out to be the man she needed in her life or not.

  The back door opened and Levi came out onto the porch.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” he asked.

  I straightened and shot him a glare. This was not what I needed right now. “What?”

  “I said I was coming over to do that.”

  For fuck’s sake. This was the third or fourth time Levi had showed up and bitched at me for working on Gram’s house, like I’d put him out of a job. “Jesus, Levi. She’s let me live here for months, the least I can do is help her out. I’ve got this. You don’t need to keep coming over here and getting pissed at me.”

  “You already knew I was coming over to build that. You should have left it alone.”

  “There’s other stuff to do if you need a side gig so bad. Go check the leaky faucet in the upstairs bathroom.”

  “Dude, don’t tell me what to do. You don’t get to start giving orders.”

  “It’s not an order, it’s a suggestion. Why are you acting so territorial?”

  “I’m not territorial, I just don’t understand why you keep jumping in on shit that I already said I’d do.”

  Gram pushed the back door open, walked out, and crossed her arms. “Language, boys.”

  Levi didn’t stop staring me down. “Sorry, Gram.”

  “You two have an issue?” she asked, her voice sharp. “Because this isn’t the first time I’ve heard you two arguing lately.”

  “Apparently he thinks he needs to be in charge of the projects around here,” I said, trying—and probably failing—to sound like a grownup instead of a petulant kid.

  He rolled his eyes. “No, I just don’t appreciate you messing with my plans. I already bought all the supplies for the enclosure, and then I show up here and you’ve started the damn thing?”

  I opened my mouth to fire back, but before I could say a word, Gram turned and marched back inside, leaving the two of us staring at each other. The back door banged shut behind her.

  “Look, if it’s so fucking important that you build a goddamn chicken fence, build it.” I dropped my hammer with a thud. “I already worked all day anyway, so have at it.”

  “What am I supposed to do with all the shit in my truck? I said I’d take care of it. But you’re too fucking self-absorbed to listen to anyone.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “At Tuesday dinner week before last—”

  Levi’s answer was drowned out by a sudden noise, like a small engine. Gram appeared, walking around the side of the house, wielding a chainsaw. The cords in her thin arms stood out, but she handled it with ease. She set her mouth in a thin line, pointedly refused to make eye contact with either one of us, and marched to the porch steps.

  My mouth dropped open and I gaped at her in shock. She stopped in front of the porch, planted her feet, bent her knees, and sawed right through the first step. The chainsaw roared as it sliced through the wood, like a knife through butter. Sawdust flew up around her. She made another cut, then another, randomly hacking into the steps that led down to the yard.

  Straightening, she turned off the chainsaw and lowered it. She studied her work, then gave a short nod. “There. Now there’s plenty of work for both of you.” She put the chainsaw on the ground. “Put that away for me, will you, Bear? It’s heavy.”

  I watched, dumbstruck, as she brushed her hands together and walked back around the side of the house.

  “Holy shit,” Levi muttered.

  Our eyes met and it was like we’d been doused with cold water.

  “Beer?” Levi asked.

  I nodded. “Fridge.”

  He went inside and came back with two cold beers. After glancing at the ruined stairs, he jumped the short distance down, his feet sending up a puff of dirt. He handed me one of the bottles. One of Gram’s chickens, apparently nonplussed by the noise, pecked and scratched her way around my feet.

  Careful not to trip over the chicken, I sat on a log round and took a long swig of my beer. “So do you want to take the steps, or the enclosure?”

  He shook his head and sat on another log. “Sometimes I think she’s crazy and has us all brainwashed into believing she’s wise.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe we drove her crazy.”

  “True.”

  “Look, I didn’t realize you were bringing shit to build this,” I said.

  “I thought I said something, but maybe you weren’t at the table.”

  We sat in silence for a long moment, just drinking our beers. I wasn’t sure if we’d actually resolved anything, but at least we weren’t arguing for once.

  “Grandad taught me to build stuff,” he said out of the blue. “I know he taught all of us, but I spent a lot of time with him by myself. After Logan and I moved out, I started coming over to do projects for Gram. It wasn’t much, but at least I was doing something.”
r />   I nodded in understanding. “I hear you, man.”

  We lapsed into silence again. We’d all been close to Grandad, but Levi had probably been the closest. Losing him had been rough.

  “Elijah was getting picked on,” I said, not quite sure why I was bringing this up. But it weighed heavily on my mind, and maybe he’d have some old Grandad tricks I hadn’t thought of. “I saw it happen in town once and coaxed him into talking to me.”

  “No shit?”

  “Yeah. I started teaching him some grappling skills so he’d have the tools to neutralize an opponent. Make him feel more confident.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I thought so, but it kind of went south. I said maybe Jack could show him some things too, and he got pissed.” My brow furrowed as I stared at my beer, as if it somehow held the answers. “He said there’s no point because Jack will just leave like everyone else.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah.”

  Levi took another drink. “He’s right, though. Not about Jack leaving—he’s a good guy. I don’t think he’s going to leave Naomi or anything.”

  “But he’s right about everyone else?”

  “In a way.”

  “I know, I get it. His piece of crap father abandoned him.”

  “You left too.”

  “Yeah, he threw that at me. But what was I supposed to do? I didn’t leave on purpose. I was handcuffed and led to a prison bus.”

  “Yep. And then you severed contact with everyone except Gram, and refused visitors.”

  “Jesus, Levi. Really?”

  He shook his head. “You just don’t get it. Everything went to shit when you left. No one wants to admit it, or maybe it’s been long enough that they don’t really remember. But we fell apart.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Gram did her best, but there was only so much she could do. Evan dropped out of college and moved home, but nobody knows why. He still won’t talk about it. Not like it matters because he’s always hiding out in his shop, avoiding everyone. The only thing Logan takes seriously is work, and sometimes even that’s a stretch. We barely got Gavin through high school, and I have no idea how he hasn’t accidentally killed himself. Do you know what it’s like to respond to an emergency call and it’s your little brother? That time it was a broken leg, but I’m just waiting for the time when it isn’t.”

  “What do you want me to do? Go back in time and change something?”

  “I just want you to realize that this whole thing sucked for us too.”

  “I know it did. But there wasn’t anything I could do. Would it have made it any better if I’d sent letters home, telling you all about how fucked up it was in there? How I had to fight my way through a constantly rotating group of inmates? How I became the guy everyone wanted to fuck with?”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have fucking killed the guy.”

  His words stung like a slap and I stared at the dirt for a long moment. I wasn’t waiting for him to take it back. I knew he wouldn’t. He was simply the first one to say what they’d probably all been thinking.

  I lifted my eyes to meet his. “Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to rape my fiancée.”

  “You could have stopped.”

  My jaw tightened and tension rippled through my neck and shoulders. “That’s why I got locked up, isn’t it? The court determined I should have known when to stop.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “What’s your point? That it’s my fault things were hard? That’s life. None of us asked for this. We didn’t ask for Mom and Dad to die either, but it happened. I did what I did to save Grace, and if I had to, I’d do it again. I’d sacrifice anything to keep her safe. Maybe if you ever love someone, you’ll understand.”

  I regretted saying that as soon as the words left my mouth. But I was too pissed and defensive to do the right thing and take it back.

  “Fuck you, Asher.”

  “No, fuck you, Levi.”

  I stood and walked away.

  Dear Asher

  Dear Asher,

  Logan was officially hired full-time by the TFD. Levi’s offer came through already, so now Chief Stanley is stuck with both of them.

  Everyone wound up at Gram’s that night, including at least half the fire department. And because she’s Gram, she sent four fresh pies to everyone who was still on duty and couldn’t come over. They built a fire, people brought food. You know how it is. They partied well into the night, long after Gram went to bed.

  It should have been fun. Everyone else seemed to be having fun. But not me.

  All I could think the entire time is that you should have been there. It was yet another milestone you had to miss.

  The more of those that pass, the harder it is to put aside my grief and enjoy them. I want to remember that there will be plenty of important moments in the future and you’ll be here for those. But right now, all I can think about is the unfairness of it all.

  It’s so fucking unfair.

  I hate this. I hate that you’re being punished. That you’re losing this time. I hate that I was assaulted and you have to pay the price. How is that justice?

  I hate that they took you away from me.

  Most of the time, I can handle it. There’s an end date, and although it feels like it might as well be a million years from now, it’s going to happen. You didn’t get life in prison, you got eight years.

  But god, Asher, right now eight years seems like a lifetime.

  I’m starved, like a little bit of me, deep inside, shrinks smaller every day I have to live without you. I’m holding it together the best I can. Putting on a happy face for the world. But on days like today, my smile is a big fat lie. I’m not happy. I’m not okay. I’m dying inside.

  I probably shouldn’t tell you things like this. You’re fighting your own battle, and it’s far worse than mine. At least I’m surrounded by goodness. Even in my darkest moments, there’s light. I have my family, and Gram, and your brothers. I have my friend Cara. They’re carrying me through this, more than any of them know. But you don’t have anyone.

  Which makes it hurt all the more.

  I don’t know what I’m trying to say. But if the only letters I ever sent you were all sunshine and rainbows, you’d know I was hiding something. I don’t want you to worry about me—I’ll be okay—but I can’t hide this from you, either. This is real.

  My heart hurts. There’s a hollow space inside me that won’t be filled until you come home, and sometimes I can’t ignore the ache. I can’t deny it’s there.

  I miss you,

  Grace

  36

  Grace

  The rumble of the truck outside made me smile. I set down the plate I’d been about to wash—I couldn’t wait to get this kitchen finished so I’d have a dishwasher again—and dried my hands. Asher had texted, asking if he could come over, and just the sound of the engine coming to a stop sent a little tingle of pleasant anticipation thrumming through me.

  Since the stupid Haven prank, Asher had been edgier, vibrating with a constant undercurrent of tension. Whenever we were together, I could feel it, and it made me anxious.

  He needed more help than I could give him. I’d known that for a long time, but he always pushed back when I suggested therapy. He said his counselor in prison hadn’t done anything for him, and he didn’t want to pay to talk to someone who’d just make him dredge up all the things he wanted to forget. It wasn’t surprising, really. He’d always resisted doctors. I could remember holding an ice pack to his face after he’d taken a blow in a tournament, arguing with him about needing stitches.

  He was so damn stubborn.

  I put down the towel and went to answer the door. I could tell with one look that he’d had a rough day. There was tension in his gaze and his dark eyes were stormy.

  Without a word, he stepped inside, shut the door, and wrapped his thick arms around me.

  Breathing him in, I held him tight. It had
been two and a half months since his release, and I still hadn’t lost the deep sense of wonder and gratitude that he was home. In a way, it was almost like being twenty again. Like the days when I could sense things changing between us. He’d been my best friend for most of my life, but suddenly the mere sight of him had sent butterflies fluttering through my stomach.

  I felt the same tingly excitement now. He was here with me, no longer kept away by barbed wire and steel, and I still felt the same rush of relief every single time.

  “Is everything okay?” I gently rubbed the back of his neck.

  With his face in my neck, he took a long, slow breath. “Yeah. I just needed you.”

  I loved hearing him say that. Not because I had a desperate urge to be needed, but because this was how things had been before. We’d relied on each other, sought comfort in each other’s arms. No matter what else had changed, this never would. He would always be my safe place, and I would do everything I could to always be his.

  He took my hand and led me to the bedroom. I followed more than willingly. Standing next to the bed, he ran his hands through my hair, his face close. His dark eyes held mine and his brow furrowed, his expression fraught with both passion and tenderness. The storm still raged inside him. I could see it in his gaze, feel it in his skin.

  I wanted him to know he could share it with me. Soothe it with my body. That I was his and I always would be.

  With his hands still in my hair, his fingertips massaging my scalp, he brought his mouth to mine. I welcomed his kiss, relaxing into it. Savoring the feel of his lips. His tongue caressing mine.

  He reached down to lift my shirt over my head. Running my hands along his skin—feeling the hard planes of muscle—I pulled his off too. He was both commanding and unhurried as he gradually undressed me, his mouth hardly leaving mine. His calloused hands roamed over my skin, strong and warm.

  I unfastened his jeans while he kissed down my neck, and plunged my hand into his pants. A satisfying groan rumbled in his throat as I gripped his cock. He pushed his pants down and kicked them away, giving me full access to him.