Page 59 of The Cold Ride

My anger kept me on the road until midnight. I stopped at a roadside motel and picked up a bottle of Jack. And sat in the room, trying to wrap my head around everything that happened, the revelations in those damn letters.

Drinking straight from the bottle, I toasted Evan like he was sitting in the room with me. “We certainly made a fucked up pair of friends, didn’t we? I betrayed you, and then you turned around and served my comeuppance by keeping my daughter’s existence a secret.”

I took another long pull on the bottle. “You were my fucking brother, and I betrayed you. I’m so sorry.”

I sat, contemplating the letters and what he said. Until it struck me between the eyes. He’d forgiven me. Evan had known and forgave me. How could I not do the same for him and Rory?

Was it a fucked up situation? Yes. But I was done with the self-loathing. The weight I carried around my neck for a decade fell away. I was finally free. In my soul, I knew where I belonged. And it wasn’t on the road to join the others in St. Louis.

It was with my girls.

They were my reason for being. They were why I would wear my uniform with pride, knowing I was doing everything within my power to keep them safe.

While I hadn’t needed his permission, receiving it unlocked everything inside me. It was time I took the one thing I’d always wanted.

My Rory.

She made life worth living. She was my reason and my love.

They both were.

And with my head clearer than it had been in years, I stopped the drinking and my pity party for one. I needed a few hours of shut-eye, then I was going home.

When I woke in the morning, there was a missed call and a voicemail from Rory.

God, Rory. She loved me. And I’d been a fucking idiot, tossing her love aside over my wounded pride. We both had a hand in how everything happened between us. I was done blaming her for her past mistakes. I brought up the message and pressed play.

“Hi Dad, Mom would kill me if she knew I called you. But she’s really upset that you left. And I just want to say I love you and I promise if you come back, I will be good. I won’t disappoint you. Please come back when you’re done with work.”

Oh, Jesus fuck!

My eyes filled with tears. Rory was right. I’d hurt our daughter. The one thing I swore I would never do. And it slammed into me how completely I had fucked up. I didn’t want to leave my girls ever. And make no mistake, they were both mine.

More resolved than ever, I left the motel with the first rays of sunlight streaking across the sky. With my head clearer than it had been in a decade, I climbed on my bike and revved the fucker to life. Then I peeled out of the motel parking lot without a backward glance.

There was a storm coming. I just had to outrun it and pray I made it back in time. I was close enough I could make it there by noon.

All I had to do was outrace the storm heading into the area. The empty sidecar was a stark reminder of how thoroughly I fucked up. The past didn’t matter. Maybe if I had listened to Rory when she came to me that day and told me she was divorcing Evan and not been such an ass, she would have told me about Amelia.

I wasn’t blameless in this situation. Our relationship difficulties weren’t all Rory’s fault, and I was done blaming her.

I wove in and out of traffic at unsafe speeds. If I lost her because of my stupidity, then she was right. I was an idiot and too lost in my anger to see what was right in front of me the whole time. They were my good in this world. And it was time I fought for them. Fought for us.

And I was going to fight for it. Fight for her with the last sliver of my soul because she was its keeper. Without her, I didn’t know if I could stem the tide. She gave me strength to return, to continue fighting—for her, for my brothers, for my unit, and for my country.

And even for my fallen commander, Evan.

The further north I drove, the colder it got. The temperature kept dropping. Angry, heavy clouds rolled in. The storm approached. Gritting my teeth, I laid the speed on as fast as I dared, weaving in and out of traffic in my hurry to reach them.

When I was thirty minutes out, the snow began falling fast and furious. Entering the outskirts of Bangor, I navigated increasingly slick roads. But I wouldn’t allow anything to deter me from my quest. Road conditions deteriorated the further I drove as the brunt of the storm barreled into the area. But I didn’t let it stop me even as the roads grew treacherous. I’d been in worse situations on missions and made it out alive.

Nothing was going to stop me now.

When the Roseberry Garden Inn came into view, relief flooded me. I drove right up and parked in the drive, then damn near vaulted off the bike. I didn’t worry about my bag. My only concern was reaching them.

I still had the key she gave me so I could come and go as needed. In my fury, I forgot to leave it behind. The inside of the inn was dim, but I noted all the work we’d done together. The work we had yet to do. In the short time I’d been here, I had fallen for the inn’s charm as well. I could see us running this place together. Just the thought of capitalizing on the possibilities for the backyard, all the additions we could make, filled me with excitement. It was a total one-eighty from what I’d known these past eighteen years. And I knew I was home.

But I didn’t stop in the lobby. I took the hallway to their place. The door was unlocked, and I walked right into her place.

---