Page 1 of Hopeless
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Beau
Ithought pissing my brother off and storming away would make me feel something.
I was wrong.
Even acting like a raging dick when I’m supposed to help a family friend move into their new house feels … bland.
As I walk down the main drag in Chestnut Springs, my fingers curl into my palms, nails digging against skin.
I don’t feel that either.
I only feel tired.
But not tired enough to sleep.
A train horn blares, and I freeze in place. For years, I’ve covered the way loud noises startle me, but it’s different this time.
You’d expect me to choose either fight or flight, but these days I brace.
Pause.
Wait for any emotion to hit. Fear, anxiety, disappointment.
But these days, I feel nothing.
I pivot on the corner of Rosewood and Elm to watch the train puff past. Chugging along. Back and forth. Point A to point B. Load. Unload. Wait overnight. Start over again.
“I am a train,” I murmur as I stare at the wheels crushing against the tracks.
I work all day on the ranch because I’m supposed to. I go through the motions. And I hate every second of it.
A woman pushes a baby in a stroller past me and shoots me a confused look. Her expression changes to surprise when she recognizes me. We might have attended high school together, but the same is true for anyone in this town born within a few years of each other.
“Oh, Beau! Sorry, didn’t recognize you for a second there.”
Probably because I haven’t cut my hair in months.
I don’t remember her name, so I plaster on a smile. “Not to worry. I’m blocking the crosswalk, aren’t I? Here … ” My arm stretches out to press the crossing button for her.
The woman I can’t remember shoots me a grateful grin, hefting a bag up on her shoulder while trying to keep hold of the stroller overflowing with an unnecessary amount of stuff. “Thanks! Nice to see you out and about. You had all of Chestnut Springs worried for a couple of weeks.”
My cheek twitches under the strain of keeping my mouth upturned. Yes, I was JTF2, Canada’s elite special ops force. Yes, I knowingly missed our transport out to save a prisoner of war. Yes, I was missing in action for weeks and was in rough shape when they found me.
I’m still in rough shape.
People love to talk about it.
You gave us quite a scare.
Try to catch your ride out next time, eh?
I bet you’re loving all this attention.
It’s when they think I’m not listening that the comments become less tongue-in-cheek and more dagger-in-back.
He looks like he’s gonna flip out any second.
