Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 104327 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104327 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
I hopped in the big SUV in the lot and tried calming myself down before we got to the motorcycle shop. It wouldn’t do to go in there radiating the anger I felt after the way the law enforcement officers of this town had treated me.
Once I’d arranged for the guys at the Chop Shop to pick up the bike and give it a once-over, we made our way up the mountain to Tiller and Mikey’s home. They lived in a giant mountain lodge that they planned to convert to a bed-and-breakfast as part of opening the ski resort back up. Tiller still had several years left on his NFL contract back in Houston, so their plan was to work on it during the off-season and ramp it up slowly to fit with their own travel needs. They’d asked me to swing by to consult with them about a few construction projects.
I’d originally planned to fly in in time for a party they’d thrown last week, but at the last minute, everything had changed and I’d decided to drive it instead. Only, now my bike was out of commission.
“Sorry again about the party,” I said to Mikey from the back seat of the SUV. “You know how much I wanted to be there to help celebrate the launch of your cookbook.”
Mikey turned around and frowned at me. “Yeah. You said something happened with your sister. Which one?”
“Kira,” I said, thankful that my sister Sophie had finally settled down recently.
“Is she okay?”
I rubbed my face with my hands before letting out a breath. “Not really. She showed up at the Gillette jobsite while the project manager was there. She was high as a kite and ranting about our father and abuse and me not making it right and how she’s fucked-up because of everything and it’s all my fault. The problem is, she wasn’t making much sense, so it came out sounding like my addict sister was accusing me of abuse and neglect.”
“Oh shit,” Mikey said in a soft voice. I nodded. “How did she even know where you were?”
Mikey and Tiller were close enough friends to know my family history. They also knew that I would never, ever jeopardize my career by allowing any of them access to a jobsite where I was working.
“One of my guys ran into her at a bar or something, I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter how she found it. She broke a seven-thousand-dollar ornamental window and then threw a brick at one of the guys who tried calming her down. He’s okay, but the project manager called the cops. They arrested her, which of course gave her one more thing to blame me for. Then when I called my mom to tell her about it, she blamed me, too. It was a shitshow.”
Mikey sighed. “She’s going to have to do some time for this one, don’t you think? That’s… what? The third time she’s been arrested in the last couple of years?”
I shook my head. “Fourth. I didn’t tell you about the one at Christmas. That was when you and Tiller were going through everything. She was arrested for possession. I hired a lawyer who got it down from a felony to a misdemeanor, but I told her it was the last time I was going to help her if she wouldn’t accept my offer of another rehab stay. Which of course, she refused. Again. So, yeah. This isn’t going to be good.”
Mikey reached back and took my hand in a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Sam. I know how hard you’ve tried to help her.”
While that was true, I didn’t want to think about it. My feelings about my family were so mixed-up and toxic, I was having a hard time dealing with them. It was one of the reasons I’d left town.
“I resigned the Gillette job,” I admitted. “Handed it over to the Harding brothers.”
Tiller’s eyes caught mine in the rearview mirror. “You busted your ass to land that project.”
It was true. But I was so tired. I hadn’t taken a vacation in… ever. And it was time for a change in my life. After watching Mikey take a big step toward pursuing his lifelong dream of opening a restaurant, I realized I’d let my own life become stagnant. Hell, I’d never even had dreams. All I’d had was work. I’d spent the better part of the past fifteen years busting my ass to make something of myself.
It had started as a scramble to make money to help my family. I’d started working construction at age fifteen and had worked my way up to becoming a contractor by apprenticing with a pair of brothers I’d worked for. They’d helped me get set up in business and had even pushed a few small projects my way to help get me started. Since then, I felt like I’d been trying to prove myself with every job I took on.