Page 23 of Caught in the Axe
But the only one of us who knew where he was at all times was Jude.
Jude, the steady, calm presence that counterbalanced Noah’s chaos. He was thoughtful and quiet and preferred comic books and playing his guitar to bungee jumping and all-night raves in the woods. He worked hard for the family business, competed in timber sports with a few buddies, and spent most of his free time hiking with his dog.
He loved rural Maine, the serenity and quiet of it, and the routine of this life.
As grown men, we were all so different. As kids, we were scrappy and close knit. Mom ran a tight ship, and we took care of one another. But over the years, we’d drifted, and our values had changed. Anymore, it felt like any connection we had was long gone.
And truthfully, I’d probably caused more of the distance than anyone else. My desire to get away from my father and his legacy had driven me away from the rest of my family too. And after nearly two decades, it was unlikely I could repair the relationships I’d let wither away.
“You need to go see Mom.”
“Yeah. I know.”
He pinned me with his older brother glare. “Today, shithead. You’ve been in town for days and you haven’t even bothered to stop by? That’s fucked up. That woman went through enough raising us. Don’t be a dick.”
My gut sank at the reprimand, but I nodded. He wasright. There weren’t many people on this earth I loved, but my mother was at the top of the list. Though I wasn’t avoiding her, Iwasavoiding her roommate, my half brother Cole. The fewer interactions I had with that dumbass, the better.
“I’ll go when I leave here.”
Gus gave me a chin tip of approval and then went back to his coffee. After a quiet moment, when I assumed he was done talking at all, he cleared his throat. “I’ve got the security firm coming today.”
The knots in my shoulders tightened. “How much is that going to cost?”
“At this point, who cares? We need it.” He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve been captaining this sinking ship for a while now. Don’t fight me on this.”
I nodded and forced out a long breath. He was right. He knew the ins and outs of the business. I was just here to crunch the numbers.
“I’ve got a meeting next week with the potential buyers,” I said, skimming the notes I’d typed out on my phone. “They’ll be submitting a written offer in advance. We can head down to Portland together.”
He held up a hand. “I can’t go. I’m straight out with road repairs. And by next week, I’ll be driving log trucks to the mill every day. We’re going twenty-four seven right now to fill these orders.”
Right. “I guess I can ask Lila. She can take notes,” I said, going for nonchalant, even as the thought of spending more time with her sent a thrill through me.
That thrill quickly turned to dread, though, when my brother shot me a glare.
“Don’t,” he said, his voice low and gruff. “Don’t look at her. Don’t think about her like that.”
“Like what?” I said, playing dumb.
“You are a grown man. I don’t need to explain it.” He leaned closer. “Lila’s a good kid. She’s working her ass off so she can move to New York and get a master’s degree.Do notcause problems for her.”
“You’re misreading the situation.” I lifted my chin, indignant, despite the guilt pooling in my gut. Whatever he had seen, it was a fraction of what I was really thinking about her.
“I’m the oldest of six boys, and I’ve spent the last twenty-plus years working in the woods with dozens of men. Trust me when I say this. You’re not fooling anyone. So let me say it again. Not her.”
He was massively overreacting, not that I’d point that out, given his murderous stare.
“She’s too young for you,” he continued. “And too nice. Not to mention she’s Cole’s ex.”
“You’ve got it all wrong.” I leaned in and ducked my head, lowering my voice. “I didn’t recognize her when she came to the office on Friday, okay? The image of Cole’s girlfriend I had in my head didn’t remotely resemble her. Seeing her just knocked me on my ass a bit. That’s all.”
Gus buried his face in his hands and growled, clearly not comforted by my half-assed reasoning. “Jesus. This is the last thing we need right now. She’s a kid.”
“She’s twenty-eight. Hardly a kid.”
“Said the thirty-eight-year-old man sitting across from me.” He fisted his hands on the tabletop. “No way. Off limits. Stop this shit. Please do not complicatethings anymore.” The glare he fixed on me brought me back to my teenage years, when he’d be pissed when I was too busy to help him with the shit Dad had tasked him with completing out at a logging site. “Weren’t you just whining about how you want to get the job done and get out of this town? Get back to that and stay there.”
“I’ve got it under control,” I said. That was a lie. Deadlines, expectations, details. I was built to handle the pressure there. Getting things right the first time was a goal I strived for. Putting forth maximum effort to ensure success was my default.
