OWNED & UNTAMED (Back Down Devil MC #11) - London Casey Page 0,3
world. Standing at the airport, watching him walk away, dressed in camo, that was hard. Seeing him with his best friend Duke made it a little bit easier, but that was only an excuse I used to convince myself and my father with. Because when Duke looked back that last time, it was a double shot to my heart.
Duke came back in one piece. Jim came back missing a leg.
At least they were both alive.
Even if I never really got to see them whole again.
That was a long time ago though when Jim came back injured. The years flew by, like they always seemed to do, and things never got any easier for him or me. I could never complain though because… well… how could I? I didn’t go overseas to fight a war that was beat up in the news almost on a daily basis. I didn’t have strangers who spoke a different language shooting at me. And I didn’t throw two men out of a truck, saving their lives, while I took the brunt of a roadside bomb that should have killed me but only took my leg. And I didn’t carry the guilt of not being able to throw out the third man in the truck, who tragically paid the ultimate price by giving his life in a foreign country.
I buried my complaints, doubts, and anger and pain deep inside myself. I promised myself that things would get better, but after Dad passed away, I knew that being okay was merely a dream that I would forever chase and never obtain.
After I finished a glass of wine, I called it a night with Maggie. I had to drive home and she the same. She ordered a second glass and I made it a point to sit there, talking, until I felt she was okay to head home. She’d been coming off a breakup that had been lingering for six months. The every other weekend drunk calls from her ex to hook up again were dumped on my lap to decipher and translate.
We left with a hug and I drove home, alone, cruising slowly through the country roads that I had always called home. Dad had been smart and wicked savvy with his finances. Mom died when I was ten and Jim was twelve. Dad never remarried and never really dated. He took everything he had and dumped it into the house and to buy all the land around the house. He told us that he and my mother dreamed of owning all the land and having me and Jim build houses on it. They had planned on having more kids but life took a bad left turn, something I guess everyone experiences once or twice in their lives.
Again, another reason I couldn’t complain. My bad left turn didn’t include surviving a war or surviving cancer. My brother survived the war, my mother did not survive the cancer.
Rocks popped under the tires of the car as I drove up the driveway.
I smiled for a second, remembering the time I tried to be sneaky and use the yard instead of the driveway to sneak out one night. I met up with Duke. He took me to the quarry on his motorcycle and we made out - and plenty more - for hours. The moon high in the sky, a billion stars our audience, a night where I felt youth could be shedding and my future looking a little clearer.
The next morning Dad called me out on it within a minute of me waking up.
I was shocked.
How did he know?
I skipped the driveway because of the noise but I failed to realize my tires would leave tracks in the grass.
Those were the easy days of life though. They seemed so hard then but they weren’t.
I got out of my car and walked to the house. It was a big house, one half of it all mine and the other half Jim’s. Dad purposely had the house remodeled to accommodate Jim. I knew Dad carried a lot of guilt, always being rough and tough with Jim, the macho ultra-testosterone thing that men did. So when Jim wanted to go into the military, Dad cheered him on. When he got the notice he was going overseas to fight, Dad was a little worried but proud of his son.
Then Jim got hurt…
I opened the door and called out, “Honey, I’m home!”