Page 47 of Tear Me to Pieces
It’s not long before I’m turning to her again, intending to get to the bottom of what’s got her so quiet today. But I don’t get the chance, because the alarm on my phone starts going off, signaling the end of our time alone together.
Sunday evenings in town are always a conflicting time for me, but this one has me struggling even more than usual. I don’t want to go. Not only because the sight of all the happy families digs my own lacks deeper, but also because I’ve got to make it seem like the connection Myra and I are building doesn’t exist.
I don’t know how Chrisitan and Lydia will react when they find out, and the tether between us might still be too new—too fragile—to withstand their disapproval. It might push Myra away from me, and I’m not sure how I’d react to that.
Likely, not well.
Myra presses her lips together, watching as I scrape our extra mud back into the bucket. Once the lid is securely in place, I rinse our tools, collect the case of beer we’re taking with us, and lead Myra out her front door into the warm afternoon sun streaking across her front porch.
Fall is definitely here, but there are still moments of warmth throughout the day, and the nights aren’t yet fully cool. Itwon’t be long before the chill is in full swing, but for now the temperature is pretty fucking tolerable.
Still. It might be cooler when we leave the firehouse, so I pause, setting down the beer. “Hang tight. I’ll be right back.” I race up the stairs, taking them two at a time so I don’t leave Myra waiting any longer than I have to. After grabbing the flannel I brought over last night, I toss it over one shoulder and rush back out onto the porch.
Myra angles a brow at me, her eyes moving to the flannel. “Worried you’ll get cold?”
“No.” Resting my palm on Myra’s back, I keep her at my side as we cross the road and follow the low wall leading to the firehouse. “I’m worried you might.”
As uneasy as I am about the evening ahead of us, I can’t deny a part of me is glad I won’t be alone tonight. Not the way I normally would be. Myra’s not mine, but she is at my side as we go, and she’ll be at my side when we leave. And while it might not be all I want, it’s also not nothing.
I still brace as we reach the biggest building on the street, preparing myself for the sting it will bring.
I lived in the firehouse off and on over the years, even after Cody and Felicity first took it over. Hope and Niko called it home for a little while, but ultimately Felicity and Cody are the ones who ended up there permanently.
Because they’re the ones who won’t stop breeding.
They’re also—as much as I hate to admit it—a big part of the reason I continued skipping town as much as I could. I’m happy for my brother. Glad he’s got the dream we all chased.
But fuck if it’s not hard to see when it’s so far from my grasp.
Opening the door, I let Myra go inside ahead of me, but I stick close as she moves into the large open area. The second I cross the threshold, the volume amps up exponentially. It’s fucking chaos inside, with kids running around like maniacs while their parents attempt to keep them somewhat under control. Little squealing voices bounce off the walls and high ceilings, with the noise of Levi cooking and Jill setting up adding to the assault.
I’ve been alone a long time, and I wish the scene before me was enough to make me appreciate my status and lifestyle. It’s not. It only amplifies my loneliness. These nights have been the worst kind of torture for me, so I usually go out of my way to miss them. To make sure I leave town before I have to face the reminder of all I don’t have.
Myra’s eyes move over the crowd, taking it all in as her steps slow to a stop. At first I think she’s regretting her decision to come here, but then I see the toddler crawling across the floor in front of her. Slowly, Myra crouches down, scooping up Damien and Josie’s little boy. She cradles him close and I can’t tear my eyes off her. She looks so natural holding him. So happy.
“Hey, man.” Evan slaps me on the shoulder, dragging my attention away from the only spot it wants to be. “How’s it going?”
Evan is the only one of my brothers—besides Butch and me—who doesn’t live here on the block. He and his wife Kerri live out in the suburbs with Kerri’s mom, Jill, but they’re here every Sunday night for family dinner.
“Good.” I lean in for a back-slapping hug, eyes darting to Myra holding the little boy before going back to the man in front of me. “What about you guys?”
“We’re awesome.” Evan was the first of us to settle down, and it still looks as good on him as it did all those years ago. “Jill said you turned on the power in the house at the end of the road. You thinking about moving back full-time?”
I can feel Myra’s eyes on me and it has me admitting something I’ve been tossing around since she fell into my life. “Maybe. I’ve got a job scheduled in Florida I’ve got to take care of, but who knows what’ll happen after that.”
Evan’s brows lift, his smile widening. “That’s fucking great to hear.” He slaps me on the back again as people start working their way toward the large open kitchen. “You know Jill’s got that house earmarked for you.” His smile slips a little. “And it doesn’t seem like Butch is going to be interested in it, so you won’t have any competition.”
I school my features when Evan brings Butch up. Christian, Tate, and I decided not to share his unexpected appearance with everyone else until we know what’s going on. Butch is a touchy fucking subject—especially for Evan—and there’s no reason to dredge up all those emotions—and suspicions—if he’s going to disappear again.
And since he never went into the house across from Myra’s, it seems like he might.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I inadvertently look for Myra again, the need to make sure she’s okay taking precedence over just about everything.
And whileshe’sfine, I might not be. Because now she’s holding Piper and Tate’s baby. The bliss on her face is unmissable, and it builds an ache in my chest. I want to make her that happy. I want to give her whatever will make her feel like that every day.
“Come get something to eat.” Jill’s voice cuts through the noise and my own thoughts.
The parents of the group migrate to the large island covered in pasta, salad, and garlic bread, helping little hands fill plates. Using their shift as an excuse to get out of the way, I deposit the beer in the fridge and then go in search of Myra.
