Page 140 of Give Me Love

“Fuck you,” Jace says. Before I can blink, Bryce’s stool is hitting the wall behind us from being slid out so hard. He has Jace grabbed by the collar and against the wall.

“What did you say to me, boy?” he seethes. Jace’s eyes burn fire, but he doesn’t back down from his big brother.

“That’s enough.” Lee stands up. His baritone voice sounds deep through the house. Bryce doesn’t let up, though, and it’s Emily who makes it happen.

“This isn’t happening in here.” She drops a pan on the stove. Bryce loosens his grip on his brother’s shirt and retakes his seat beside me. Jace straightens his collar, but instead of sitting down, he grabs a beer from the fridge and disappears outside.

I see Bryce shake his head as Lee says, “Grace.” Everyone grabs hands, and I look around the table as heads are bowed and Lee thanks God for good food and family. The mood isn’t right without Jace, though, and I know I’m not the only one who feels it.

Chapter Thirty

Bryce

I leave Kathrine with Emily as the two talk and clean the kitchen. I tried to get her to come with me, but she insisted I take care of things with Jace. So, after a quick trip to the shop, I make my way with my dirt bike helmet and riding gear to where they’re taming the new horse.

Jace stands by the fence, and I’m glad to see he traded beer for coffee while he watches Frisk, our horse trainer, get bucked off the horse. I walk up beside him. “He’s at least 17 hands, right?”

Jace nods but doesn’t speak. He sniffs and rubs his beard before taking a sip of his coffee and turning to me. I’ve got his helmet in my hand, and I put it to his chest.

“Come on,” I say.

“What, you think we can just go riding and everything will be fine?”

“Just come the fuck on.”

He takes hold of the helmet. “Fine.” He dumps his coffee, and we head back to the shop to grab our bikes.

The trails have grown up a bit, but we make our way through, climbing over large tree roots and turning sharp corners. We gain speed across an empty pasture before escaping deeper into the woods, climbing the mountainside.

Sweat drips down my back even though it’s cooler up here. The sound of the bike sends me back to my teenage years when I had no answers and no fear. My brother stays close behind like always as we continue up the rough terrain. I twist the throttle, and the back tire throws up dirt as I turn sharp between two trees.

It’s a path I’m all too familiar with, and as I touch the ground with my foot and maneuver over a small log, I see the clearing up ahead. This part’s the most fun because we can race. I shift gears and give it some gas.

We haul ass to the top, and Jace fights for the lead as we clear the hill. We keep going, knowing the place we have to stop before flying off the mountainside. I turn my bike, sliding to a stop, as does Jace. Dirt and grass fly up, and I look over at my brother and smile.

Removing my helmet and unzipping the top of my suit, I kick the stand out and hop off.

The view up here is nothing new to me, but it never grows old. Trees and land for miles with a lake spread out to the right side.

I rest my helmet on the handlebars and walk over to the bench that Jace and I placed here when I was fifteen. This was our thinking spot, where we’d come to sit in silence or where we’d come to talk about whatever was on our minds.

The cool air feels good to my sweaty long-sleeved T-shirt, and I take a deep breath as I sit down, throwing my arm over the side of the bench.

Jace chooses to stand, putting his hands on his hips. He looks out, but he doesn’t say anything. I’m hoping we can clear the air here. Talk about what we haven’t.

“Been a while since I’ve seen this view,” I say, looking over at him. He slides his helmet off, before reaching into his front pocket to pull out his Marlboro Reds. Striking his lighter with one hand, he puffs on the thing and takes it from his mouth.

“You gonna cut the shit and let’s get down to why you wanted to come up here?” he asks, looking my way.

He’s poker-faced, and I can’t help but wonder when this boy turned into a man.

He’s always been my kid brother.

Always near, always behind me, but when he decided to join the service, the cord keeping us together snapped, and I knew things would be different afterwards.

Truth is, he grew up then. I didn’t want to admit it when he went away. I didn’t want to admit it when he came home to visit and was leaner, more chiseled, and more mature.

I guess because by the time I thought he’d grown up, he was back home and had started partying.

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