Page 47 of Back in the Country
I am frustrated with her—hell, I am even a little bit mad—but no part of me wants to see her like this.
“He’s in his room.” She looks back blankly to the TV she isn’t watching, and I steel myself for whatever awaits me.
“I’ll talk to him.” She doesn’t acknowledge me as I drop a kiss on the top of her head. The smell ofherassaults my senses. She smells intoxicating—like sinful happiness—but I can’t think about that now.
Sorren is propped up on the bed with his back against the headboard. He smiles ruefully when he see me.
“Hey brother.” He puts his hand out and I clasp it. Fuck. I’ve missed my best friend so damn much. What he’s done for his country makes him a way better man than I am, but I hated when he was gone. Even though he’s injured and hurting, seeing his ass planted in Clementine Creek calms my anxiety.
“I missed your ugly mug.” He chuckles and I make myself comfortable near his feet. He shifts and winces. He doesn’t mention it so I don’t either.
“Yeah, I know. I missed yours too.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he looks at the wall and sighs before meeting my gaze.
“What’s up?”
“I need you to take Marlee somewhere. Feed her. Make sure she gets some sleep. She’s making me nuts, bro.”
“She cares about you. We all do.”
“I know that and Iappreciateit,” he says and his voice is strained, “but she’s smothering me and I haven’t been in friendly territory in a long time. I need time to adjust, Way.”
He swallows hard and looks at me with anguish and terror in his eyes. “I need to remember how to do this. I don’t know how to explain that to her.”
I study him for a moment. The anxiety radiating off him is palpable in the spacious room, making it feel cramped.
“I’ll take care of her.”
Now it’s his turn to study me. I don’t like it. Replaying my words, I mentally kick myself for the slip.
Instead of commenting he just nods. “Thanks, brother.”
Brother.
From the first day I met Sorren, he’s been my brother. Didn’t matter that I already had three by blood. Sorren was one of us, and so was Marlee.
I sure as shit didn’t think of her as a sister though.
We talk a few more minutes, and I help him get settled with everything he might need until there’s nothing left to do but let him sleep. He needs it. The dark circles under his eyes worry me, but I table it for now.
“Call me if you need me.”
“I will.”
“I’m serious, Sorren. I will beat the shit out of you if you don’t ask for help.”
“I called tonight, didn’t I?”
He smiles, like the normalcy of our banter eases the tension in his mind. I seriously hope it does. We clasp hands and say our goodnights before I step back into the hall and shut the door behind me.
Marlee is exactly how I left her on the couch. I sigh. I hate this and I’m already exhausted keeping them in their respective corners. As close as they are, they’re shit at legitimately communicating with each other.
Honestly, even I am a little blindsided by her complete one-eighty. We’ve gone from spending every available moment together to her barely giving me one-word answers via text. She’s let her brother’s homecoming completely consume her.
“Hey, baby.”
“Hey, Waylon.” The glass balances on her knee as I ease onto the couch next to her. I take it and set it gently on the table before turning off the TV.
“Time to go, okay?”
