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

by Claire Kingsley

  Spreading the fingers of my still-trembling left hand, I looked at the bare spot where Asher’s ring had been. At the indent left behind. And I wanted to punch the dashboard just like he had yesterday. I wanted to scream, and cry, and rage at the world. Because none of this was fair.

  I wished I could go to him now. I craved the solace of his arms around me with a desperation that I could hardly bear.

  But I couldn’t do that to myself. Even if he comforted me tonight, tomorrow he’d break my heart again. And there were only so many times I could put myself through that. Only so many times I could live through the wound in my soul being ripped open before I broke apart completely.

  44

  Asher

  Prison had made me an expert at compartmentalization. I was able to focus on one thing almost exclusively, putting everything else away. I’d kept my attention on the present, whether it was one of the useless group therapy sessions, or watching the guys most likely to start trouble out in the yard. Everything else had been put away, tucked into a separate place in my brain where it couldn’t interfere. Couldn’t make me weak.

  In the aftermath of ending things with Grace, I drew on that skill. I put her away and focused on work.

  Or I tried to. Now I sucked at it.

  No matter how hard I tried to keep my mind on the fence I was building for Mrs. Dickerson so her yippy dog could run around without terrorizing the rest of the neighborhood, I couldn’t stop thinking about Grace.

  I told myself, for the millionth time, that I hadn’t overreacted. I’d been calm and collected. No longer panicked from the stress of hurting her, or the fire. It had been days. My head had been clear. It had been the right thing to do. The only thing I could do.

  So why did everything feel so horribly wrong?

  There wasn’t another alternative. Although it had gutted me to leave her the first time, and it was gutting me to do it again, I couldn’t keep pretending I was fine. I wasn’t.

  I finished for the day and let Mrs. Dickerson know I’d be back tomorrow. She offered me a cookie, which after yesterday, I knew to politely decline. I was pretty sure she’d mistaken salt for sugar, and it had been all I could do to swallow the bite I’d taken so I didn’t hurt her feelings. Today I just told her I wasn’t hungry.

  My truck was parked out front. I took off my tool belt and tossed it on the passenger’s seat. It was hot as fuck out today, and I’d been working in the sun for hours. I downed the rest of my water and wiped my forehead on my arm. I needed a shower, and then a cold beer.

  A truck pulled up behind mine and parked. I almost groaned out loud when I saw who it was. Josiah Haven.

  Great. Just what I needed today.

  He got out wearing a dark t-shirt and dusty jeans, and he had a light sprinkling of sawdust in his facial hair.

  My jaw tightened. “What do you want?”

  He held his hands up. “Can we parlay?”

  “What are we, fucking pirates?”

  “I’m trying to wave the white flag here, Bailey. I just want to talk.”

  “Fine. What?”

  He took a deep breath and glanced around, like he wanted to make sure we weren’t seen talking to each other. “The thing with your grandpa’s truck was out of line. We shouldn’t have done it.”

  That was a surprise. No Haven had ever apologized for a prank—nor the other way around. At least, not in my lifetime.

  I furrowed my brow, but gave him a short nod. “Okay.”

  “It’s one thing to put a beard on Lola or run a Haven flag up the flagpole in front of City Hall or whatever stupid shit we come up with. But Grace was right, that was too personal. I don’t want to start a war over it.”

  I hesitated a beat before answering. I didn’t want this to escalate any more than he did. “Neither do I.”

  He held out his hand and I shook it.

  “Thanks.” He turned to go back to his truck, but paused and looked over his shoulder. “By the way, any of us would have done the same thing if it had been our girl. It sucks you had to get locked up for it.”

  That really took me by surprise. “Thanks, man.”

  He tipped his chin to me and got back in his truck.

  Well, holy shit.

  I glanced down at my water bottle. I’d gripped it so hard, I’d put a dent in it. I really needed to get a handle on my anger.

  As if that wasn’t the understatement of the decade.

  I checked my phone, stupidly hoping I’d have a text from Grace, but knowing I wouldn’t. And knowing that it was entirely my fault.

  I’d thought once I broke things off, I’d at least feel a sense of closure. I wasn’t leading her on, letting her believe I could be someone I wasn’t. All I’d done was tell her the truth. That was supposed to have helped.

  But I felt worse than ever.

  I did have a text, but it wasn’t from Grace. It was from Chief Stanley, asking if I had time to get together. I replied and we made plans to meet at the Caboose in an hour.

  Walking into the Caboose was a stark reminder that I couldn’t go anywhere in this town without encountering Grace. She wasn’t here, but the restaurant was filled with memories of her. Playing pool. Snacking on greasy bar food. Meeting up with friends, or my brothers. We’d been here together a hundred times—both before my prison sentence and after—and now I couldn’t associate this place with anything but her.

  The entire fucking town was like that. She was everywhere.

  The chief was already here with two beers on the table. I tried to ignore the onslaught of memories, the relentless pull that Grace had on me, and joined him.

  “Thanks for the beer,” I said and took a sip.

  “Sure. Thanks for meeting me. I wanted to see how you’re doing.”

  I looked away. That was a loaded fucking question. “I’m all right.”

  He scrutinized me for a few seconds, then nodded slowly. “Okay. How’s work?”

  “Busy. I’m holding my own. I’ll be back on my feet soon.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  I had a feeling he was one step from asking me about Grace, so I quickly tried to change the subject. “How’s Skylar?”

  “She’s good. Moved back in with her mom about a month ago.”

  “Oh yeah? Have you seen them recently?”

  “I have, actually. I drove out there last week to spend some time with Skylar. We had a good visit. Wound up taking them both to dinner, which I hadn’t exactly planned, but…” He trailed off, lifting one shoulder in a shrug.

  “Do you get along with your ex these days?”

  He made a noncommittal noise in his throat and took a swig of beer. “Yes and no. We seem to do all right in small doses, but more than that is asking for trouble. I do my best to behave myself for Skylar’s sake.”

  I wasn’t sure why, but I suddenly wondered if Chief Stanley only missed his daughter. Maybe he missed his ex-wife a little bit, too.

  A server brought a large basket of onion rings and set it on the table.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “I was hungry and didn’t want to wait, so I ordered before you got here,” he said with a quick wink. “Now tell me how you’re really doing.”

  “I told you I’m fine.”

  “That’s a crock of shit.” He cracked a smile, but I could tell he’d come here with an agenda, and now he wasn’t going to let it go. “I was at the scene, Asher. I saw what happened, and I saw you. If you’re doing fine after that, there’s something wrong with you.”

  “Why? I went in and got her out. Firefighters do that kind of thing all the time. You don’t take your guys out for a beer every time they answer a call.”

  “I would if they’d pulled their girlfriend out of a fire. And if they’d looked like you did afterward.”

  “I’d been up half the night. I was tired. And yeah, I was stressed. I was out walking, and when I got back, there was smoke pouring out the back of her house. It was crazy.”

  “And wh
y were you out walking before dawn?”

  I stilled, looking him dead in the eyes. “I didn’t hit her on purpose. She startled me awake and my elbow hit her nose.”

  “I know. I wasn’t implying you hit her. I’m wondering why you’re so jumpy when you sleep.”

  “It was just an accident. Her face was too close.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  I took a drink of my beer.

  “Word travels fast in this town, Asher.”

  “Yeah, I’m aware.”

  “Then it won’t surprise you that I know Grace Miles no longer wears an engagement ring.”

  I ground my teeth together. “With all due respect, Chief, that’s our business.”

  “You’re right. And I don’t know the whole story. But I see the road you’re traveling down and I can’t help but worry you’re setting yourself up for a heap of regret.”

  “I live with regret every day.”

  “So why add to it? Look, I’m not here to tell you I know what’s best for you. Or that I know the reasons you two are having problems. But I do know you. I’ve known you since you were born. I’ve also been around the block a few times, and I’d like to think I’ve learned a few lessons along the way. Just be careful. Hindsight is a powerful thing, and I’d hate for you to look back and realize you made mistakes that can’t be fixed.”

  Right now, I felt like my entire life was a mistake that couldn’t be fixed. “Yeah, okay.”

  He eyed me like he wasn’t sure I was hearing his message, but he didn’t press it further. And I knew there was truth to what he was telling me. I already had to live with a shit ton of regret. But there wasn’t anything else I could do about that now, except learn how to live with the burden, and the demons that still haunted me.

  45

  Asher

  Another day went by and the emptiness inside me only grew.

  I finished building Mrs. Dickerson’s fence, avoided having to eat another questionable-looking cookie, and decided to go to the gym. Even after working hard all day, I had too much energy. I needed to burn some of it off or I’d never get to sleep tonight.

  The slight tang of sweat in the air and the sound of gloves hitting bags greeted me when I walked in. My hands twitched. Ever since I’d grappled with Gavin, I’d wondered if I’d been wrong. I’d gone into it angry, and that choke hold had set me off. But I hadn’t lost control. If that had been a fight in the prison yard, I would have pummeled his face until someone dragged me off him. But I’d stopped.

  I glanced at the caged-in ring at the back. At the practice mats with students and coaches working together. Was there a chance that I could take this up again? That maybe I could relearn control?

  My body craved it. There was something about pitting my will against someone else’s—the struggle to defeat an opponent. Grappling with Gavin had been cathartic. I’d felt better afterward, even though I’d lost.

  Working with Elijah had felt good, too, but in a different way. It had been satisfying to pass on what I knew, especially to a great kid like him.

  I’d been so afraid to unleash the darkness inside of me. I still was. But I had to face the fact that burying it hadn’t worked.

  Could I accept it? Live with it as a part of me?

  I didn’t know.

  Jack Cordero was on one of the practice mats. He was dressed in a gray t-shirt and shorts, and he wasn’t working with another adult. It was a kid.

  Holy shit. That was Elijah.

  I watched as Jack corrected his form, then took him through a short sequence of moves. They finished and Elijah jumped to his feet, his hair damp and messy. He held out a hand for Jack.

  Jack took it and stood, then patted him on the shoulder.

  I was totally unprepared for the rush of emotion that filled my chest. Looking away, I cleared my throat.

  “Hey, Asher.” Jack came toward me and raised his hand in a greeting. Elijah either hadn’t seen me, or didn’t want to. I saw him disappear into the locker room.

  “Jack,” I said with a nod.

  “I’m glad I ran into you. I need to thank you for working with Elijah the way you did.”

  “Yeah, of course. Sorry I didn’t ask you or Naomi first. I just figured I could show him a few things.”

  “That’s all right. Under normal circumstances, I think Naomi would have wanted to know. But this was obviously what he needed.”

  “Good to hear it helped.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Did he… did he ask you to bring him here? Or was this your idea?”

  “Both, I suppose. He piped up one night at dinner and told us you’d been teaching him to grapple. He started naming moves and telling us about things you’d talked about. I think he said more to us that night than he’d said in the last year. It was like you broke him wide open. He was afraid we’d be mad, but he seemed to relax when he realized we weren’t. Then he said something about me working out here at the gym and I had this feeling he was giving me an in. So I went for it. Anyway, I hope I’m not stepping on your toes. You were basically his coach and I didn’t mean to take over.”

  “No, not at all. I’m glad you did. He needs this. He needs you.”

  “Thanks, Asher.” He held out his hand and I shook it. “I appreciate that.”

  Elijah came up next to Jack and shoved his hands in the pockets of his gym shorts. “Hi.”

  “Hey, big man,” I said.

  Jack patted him on the shoulder. “I need to go grab my bag. I’ll be right out.”

  Elijah nodded. He wasn’t exactly effusive, but he made eye contact.

  “How’ve you been?” I asked. “Learning a lot?”

  “Yeah.” He glanced down at the floor for a second, then back up at me. “I saw those kids again.”

  “The little shits?”

  His mouth twitched in a smile. “Yeah, them.”

  “What happened?”

  “It was weird. They tried to start trouble, but I wasn’t really scared of them. I just thought about what I’d do if one of them got close enough. And then none of them did. They stopped and left.”

  “Assholes like that try to prey on the weak. They could see you’re not.”

  He smiled and the pride shining in his eyes made my throat feel thick again.

  “So, thanks for teaching me stuff. And, um, I was wondering if maybe I could still come over sometimes. If you need help working on your truck or anything.”

  Damn it, this kid was going to make me cry. “Yeah, bud. Anytime.”

  “Thanks.”

  Holding my arm out, I beckoned him closer. “Come here, kiddo. Baileys always hug it out.”

  I expected him to give me a quick side hug, but he wrapped his arms around my waist. I squeezed him and let go. He gave me one more smile, then ran off to find Jack.

  I got home and found Gram on the back porch, sitting in her rocking chair. Her hands rested on the sides and she tipped it back and forth with her toes, the wood creaking with her gentle motion. She hummed a song, a wordless tune I’d heard countless times.

  She met my eyes with a smile. “Come sit.”

  I needed to fix myself some dinner, and a shower wasn’t a bad idea either. But I went outside and lowered myself into the chair next to her.

  “What troubles you, Bear?”

  My first instinct was to say nothing, or I’m fine, but I didn’t bother lying to her. Instead, I stared out at the darkness for a while. At the chicken coop and her gardens. At the way the land sloped toward the creek, and kept right on going up into the mountain peaks. At the dim shapes of distant pines, barely visible in the darkness.

  “I didn’t want to hurt Grace again,” I said, finally, my voice quiet. “But I told her I can’t marry her. If I didn’t do it now, I’d only be delaying the inevitable.”

  “It probably feels that way. But there’s not much that’s really inevitable.”

  “Like death and taxes?”

  “Oh, sure, there’s that. But I’d say love is, too.”
<
br />   “I wish it were that easy. Just love someone and the rest takes care of itself.”

  She laughed softly. “It’s never that easy, Bear.”

  “It was for us.”

  “Until it wasn’t.”

  I shifted in my chair. “That’s what I mean. Back then, all I had to do was love her. And now, no matter what I do, I can’t win. Either I hold onto her and she suffers because of me, or I let her go so she at least has a chance at happiness, but I lose her.”

  “If that’s how you see it, then that’s how it is.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you’re convinced you see things the only way they can be seen. Tell me something. If I asked you to describe a tree, what would you say?”

  “I don’t know. A tree has a wooden trunk that grows out of the ground. The trunk has branches spreading out from the center, with leaves or needles on them.”

  “If an eagle could talk and I asked him to describe a tree, what do you think he’d say?” She paused for a second. “A tree looks awfully different from above than it does from the ground. But even though his description might sound nothing like yours, neither of you would be wrong.”

  “I’ve tried to see this differently. But every time I do, I am wrong.”

  She went quiet for a moment, the only sound the creak of the wood beneath her chair. The rhythm of it was soothing, calling back to deep memories from my childhood. Evenings like this spent with her on the back porch, listening to stories told by moonlight.

  “You know, Grandad and I almost didn’t get married.”

  I looked over at her. “What?”

  “Mm hmm. It’s a good thing he didn’t believe in no-win situations.”

  “What happened?”

  She looked down at her hands in her lap. At the wedding ring she still wore. “Frank Bailey was a man who never hesitated to go after what he wanted. That will of his would not be denied. As a child, he terrorized his mother because of it, but his parents knew better than to try to break him. They simply did their best to teach him to use his powers for good.”