Into the Nothing (Broken Outlaw Series Book 1) (26 page)

Xander’s been gone for at least two hours now. The sheriff’s deputy came and took my statement, and he’s already on his way over to Cody’s. The deputy was not told anything about Xander, and I worry about what he’s doing—or what he’s already done. I just hope he doesn’t get in trouble.

Mom, Dad and I sit at the dining room table waiting for Xander when Caleb comes in. He nearly bypasses us to go upstairs, but instead turns and comes back.

“What happened to your face?” he asks with a look of disgust.

“Excuse me?” I say, barely able to contain my annoyance.

“Caleb, just go to your room. This doesn’t involve you,” Mom says, rubbing my shoulder in an effort to calm me.

“Well, it wasn’t her business to tell you about my PlayStation, and she did that. So fuck her.”

Dad immediately stands. I’ve never seen him so angry. “Caleb, tonight is
not
the night to start with your shit,” he barks.

“
My
shit? My shit?! You all don’t give two shits about me. Poor little Miss Paige has a run-in with a fist, and you’re all over her like she’s fucking dying. I’ve been getting beat up my whole fucking life. Where the hell have you been?” With each word spoken, Caleb’s anger intensifies. “You’re not even my real fucking family. I don’t have any family.”

“Honey, you never told us about anything like that. We care just as much about what happens to you as we do Paige. We just have to know,” Mom says, trying to remain calm.

“You never care to listen. None of you do. None of you fucking care about me. About what I’ve been through.”

“Of course we do,” Mom responds.

“Fuck all of you. When I’m eighteen, I’m fucking gone. I’m done with this place!” Caleb tries to turn and leave, but my dad rocketing out of his seat draws his attention.

“Then leave! If you think you’ve got it so fucking bad here, fucking leave. We’ve given you everything, son. And if you think somehow we aren’t giving you enough, by all means, just go. But I refuse to let you treat your sister or anyone else in this family like that. I refuse to let you talk to us like that. You have so much more than many others do. You need to grow the fuck up, Caleb.”

Caleb is in complete shock. He doesn’t say a word, but just stands in shocked silence. I’m left speechless as well. As much as I had to say to Caleb before Dad spoke, it’s all evaporated now. I’m thankful for my father defending me, but I’m also sad. As much as I hate Caleb right now, I just wish we could connect sometimes like normal siblings do. I wish I understood what he’s been through.

He turns and heads for the stairs, and I want to cry at the look of regret on Dad’s face.

Xander returns some time later without a word. Though I pester him for information, he tells me nothing. I don’t push it. I’ll get it out of him eventually, though his swollen knuckles tell me enough. He came back right about the time Caleb packed a few bags and took off. Mom raced out after him, but he was in his friend’s car and gone before she could try to make him stay.

I
t’s been only a day since Paige and Jack headed up to Truman Lake. And God, I miss her already.

It’s not the same around here without her. After her run-in with that piece of shit Cody and hearing what good ol’ Caleb had to say to her that night, it’s not surprising Jack thought it best to take her away for a bit. She fought against it, but Jack insisted. I selfishly wish she had stayed, as a week away from her is not my idea of a good time.

Late-night thinking has me wide awake and dying for some alcohol. Anything to give my restless mind a break. The weed is doing the job at the moment, but I still toss and turn relentlessly. Not that that’s anything new these days. I could be dead tired after a long day’s work, eyelids fighting to close, and I’ll still lay my head on the pillow only to have sleep evade me. I think too much. That’s the problem.

The bright red numbers reading 12:01 on the alarm clock mock me from the nightstand. I think about Paige and the feelings that have undeniably taken taken residence in my heart, forcing me to reevaluate everything I thought I knew.

My life, with all its confusion and uncertainty, has suddenly become a bit clearer. I’ve always wanted love, but there has never been a woman before who has made me feel it—who has made me question my wandering ways. No woman has ever made me want to settle… until her. It makes restless nights like these that much more unbearable.

Letting people in is not my thing. It took a lot to become close to my military buddies, to allow them into my headspace, to accept that I could actually get close to another person. This is different, though. This involves matters of the heart. Am I truly even able to love? Had you asked me that question a month ago, I would have firmly told you no. But now… now everything is a mess. So much about love makes no sense to me, and tonight, I guess, is my night to try and figure it all out.

God, I wish I could just sleep.

The muffled sound of glass shattering rings from the main house. A scream follows—a horrible, ugly scream that tears from the house in waves and sends shivers down my spine.

Teresa.

I jolt from my bed, waiting a moment to make sure I wasn’t just hearing things. I’m high, so it’s possible my brain was playing tricks on me. I hear nothing else.

I slip on my house shoes anyway, grab a bat from beneath my bed and head out into the still night air, cautiously making my way to the back door. It’s locked, so I go to the front, which I find is also locked. I try to convince myself it couldn’t have been a scream; it must have been my imagination. But I know what I heard… as much as I wish I didn’t.

I open the back door as quietly as I can. My entire body tingles just below the surface. I fight to control my breathing, creeping ever so slowly through the laundry room and into the kitchen. That’s when I feel the crunch of broken glass beneath my shoes. That’s when I spot something in the middle of the kitchen floor.

It’s
Teresa
. I can tell by the nightgown.

I feel for the light switch and flip it on. What I see nearly knocks me off my feet. Teresa is facedown in a pool of blood that’s quickly spreading out around her. The room is filled with the faint smell of copper. A butcher’s knife stained crimson lies just beside her body and puncture holes dot her nightgown.

I drop to my knees, immediately pressing two fingers to her throat. The feel of the blood against my skin turns my stomach upside down. There’s a pulse, but it’s faint and fleeting. I panic, fighting a mess of emotions that make it hard to process a single thought. I search the house, the bat in one hand and my phone in the other, and I dial 911.

Present

“X
ander, you still with me?” Warden Naranjo asks, though his words seem distant.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“No, sorry,” I repeat, slouched in the chair across from him in his office. I can’t help my thoughts continuously returning to that night.

It haunts me—it
consumes
me.

“I said, we really need your assistance with this.”

“With what?”

“Xander, have you even heard a word I said? The guy’s throat was slit from ear to ear. That was after he had been fucked to the point of his colon rupturing. Child molester or not, we can’t let this kind of shit go down in here. And I think you know more than what you’re telling.” He folds his arms and leans back in his chair.