Page 2 of Rebellious

Grinning, I ease open Bennett’s door, and spot two bodies snuggled on the bed. One smaller form is under the comforter, and the other is without an inch of blanket.

“She’s just like her mother,” I chide, shaking my head at the sight of my nine-year-old daughter locked in the arms of my best friend’s seven-year-old son. “I thought I told you to fix this, Jameson.”

Cade pushes me farther into the bedroom and closes the door behind us. “How am I supposed to fix this?” He waves at the two most stubborn kids I’ve ever encountered. “She comes in through his window.”

“Nail it shut.”

“I have. Bennett removes the nails.”

See? His kids are the problem. “You’re such a softy, Jameson. You should be ashamed. Let me demonstrate how to show these little turds who’s boss.”

I shove the tissues at him and stride over to the full-size bed and ease the blankets off Aspen. She yanks them back up and burrows deeper into Bennett’s side.

I sigh; I know that aggressive yank. She won’t come unless I drag her kicking and screaming. Frankly, I’m not in the mood, and I promised Breck I’d come over and pull the stick out of Jameson’s ass. He had a bout of PTSD earlier, something he struggles with daily. He shut down and refused to talk to me or his wife. Now, thanks to Aspen, he has to talk to me.

I straighten and walk to where Cade leans against the wall. “Give me one of those beers.”

“It’s three in the morning.”

I hope my eat-shit expression is visible in the dim light. “Well, if I had known your delicate ass needed a latte at this hour, I would have brought you a venti pumpkin-spice-I-don’t-give-a-fuck.”

Really? What are we? Women?

As usual, Cade ignores my sarcasm, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips when he returns, “I’ll make us some coffee, asshole.”

I follow him out to the kitchen, his snippy retort bringing a stupid smile to my face.

Why?

If I annoyed Jameson, he isn’t as destroyed as Breck claimed.

Earlier, when I came over to drag Jameson out for our afternoon run, Breck met me at the door with red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. “He’s gone,” she had cried into my shirt.

Now, I might not enjoy having neighbors all the time, but I’ve grown fond of Breck and, sometimes, her husband. So I held her shaking body until my wife came and took over. I was going to look for the bastard when a small voice, much like his father’s, interrupted my mission. “I did it,” Bennett had told me in that much too serious voice.

“You did what?”

“Made him leave.”

His body trembled. “I didn’t know.”

“Know what?”

He straightened. “I want to come with you.”

My throat worked as I stared down at this little boy who seemed much older than he was. “Tell you what, Ben. You stay here and take care of your mama, and I’ll bring your father back.”

Did he do what I asked? No. Instead, he walked out to my car and got in.

I knew I couldn’t look for his father right then. Not while he was with me. Cade’s leaving was huge. He hadn’t disappeared in years. Whatever happened was catastrophic, and I wasn’t sure what I would find. I couldn’t risk traumatizing Bennett by actually finding his father in a state he’d never forget.

So, we drove around, circling the small city of Madison, grabbing a burger when it came time for dinner. Eventually, I convinced Bennett we should go back and check on the girls. When we returned home, his father’s truck was there.

Long story short, I haven’t had my run at this fucker who scared the shit out of his wife and kids.

“You can put in your own cream and sugar,” he says, setting the cup of coffee on the kitchen table. I eye him with a look of disdain and yank the chair away from the table and sit. “Want to tell me what happened today?”

He takes a sip of his own coffee, hissing through his teeth. “Not really.”

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