Chapter 3

Titus

Three hours of riding hadn't taken the edge off. I pulled off the highway into a lookout area a few hours north of home, ignoring the way my phone continued to go off in my pocket. I couldn't even describe the feeling I was trying to escape. Rage, maybe. Absolute fucking confusion—definitely. Sorrow. Excitement. Disgust. So, yeah, pretty much every fucking emotion known to man. That's where I was at.

Leaving my helmet on the bike, I walked to the edge. The big ravine with evergreens spread out as far as I could see was probably beautiful, but I couldn't appreciate it.

"I was wonderin' when you'd stop," Rumi called out, striding toward me. "I'm gonna need fuel soon."

"Surprised you're the one who followed me," I muttered as he reached me.

"Drew straws," he joked, grinning.

"I'm fine."

"Yeah, you know, that's what I was thinkin' as I followed you halfway across the state—that boy is fine…not sure what I'm doin' here."

"You saw where she was livin'," I replied quietly, staring at the trees. "That fuckin' trailer had a garbage bag coverin' a broken window."

"Wasn't pretty," he agreed quietly.

"Why the fuck didn't she call?" I blurted. It was the same question that rolled through my mind over and over since we'd pulled up in front of that piece of shit trailer. She could've reached out at any point.

"Guessin' only Noel knows the answer to that."

"Three kids, Rum. She has three fuckin' kids."

"Well, not yet," he hedged with a sigh.

"The oldest is at least four, right? I mean, she didn't seem younger than that."

"Yep."

"So, Noel wasn't even eighteen when she had her." I shook my head in disgust.

Teen pregnancy didn't bother me on a whole. I honestly didn't think about it much beyond not causing it back when I was a teenager. Shit happened. But from what I understood, it hadn't been some couple that accidentally got pregnant—Noel was married. Had been married. The man was dead. From what little Otto had murmured to me—after I'd seen her standing in the doorway with her kids but before I'd completely lost it and did something supremely stupid like ask if the oldest was mine—she'd been married before she even finished high school and I was willing to bet my left nut that it hadn't been her decision.

"You know, drivin' yourself crazy over it isn't gonna help, right?" he asked, pulling out a cigarette.

"Gimme one," I mumbled, snatching the pack out of his hands.

"Nasty habit," he said around the cigarette as he lit it. He handed me the lighter. "When did you start smokin'?"

"I don't." Closing my eyes I savored the first drag.

"Right."

"Every once in a while." I shrugged. "I don't buy them."

"Ah, so you just bum them off other people." He nodded. "Smart."

"This is so fucked," I breathed, leaning on the guardrail.

"You know, Dad said the inside wasn't bad." Rumi looked at me. "Said it was real homey. Not much in there, but clean and shit. Lived in."

"That makes it all so much better," I scoffed.

"Just sayin', it might not have been as bad as you're thinkin'," he said casually. "And she's clearly crazy about those girls."

"She always wanted a big family."

"She's got a good start on it," he mused. "Wonder if the new one's a girl."

"Fuck," I breathed, hissing through my teeth. I couldn't even think of Noel's round belly without my insides churning like I was on a goddamn rollercoaster.

"She's back, man." He wiggled his head from side to side. "You really gonna complain about how it happened?"

"Fuck you, Rumi."

"You know what I'm sayin'," he argued, throwing up his hands. "This chick you've been pining for since you were a kid is back in your life. You gonna look up that gift horse's ass?"

"You're a fuckin' idiot." He knew all the bullshit idioms he spouted. He fucked them up on purpose.

"I'm right," he shot back. "This is what you've been waitin' for, right? For fuck's sake, little brother! She's here, man! So, what if she's got a couple kids?"

"I don't give a flyin' fuck if she has kids," I snapped back, dropping the cigarette so I could crush it under my booth.

"Then why are you actin' like a little bitch?"

"Jesus Christ," I muttered, turning away from him. It was either that or hit him, and I didn't feel like getting into a fistfight with my brother on the side of the highway. Someone would definitely call the cops.

"Not seein' why you're so worked up," he said with a huff.

"She didn't fuckin' call." I didn't bother looking at him. I could feel his stare on the back of my head. "She knew that we'd come get her—no questions asked—and she still went along with all of it. Married some dude. If the fucker wouldn't have bit it, you think we'd be havin' this conversation? She'd still be up there, livin' in her fifty-year-old trailer, poppin' out kids that none of us even knew existed."

"But he did and she's here now," Rumi said simply, clapping me on the shoulder. "So, what are you gonna do?"

I sighed and realized why they'd sent Rumi. Any of my other siblings would've listened to me rant. They'd be fucking sympathetic—something Rumi struggled with on a good day. He'd rather cut through the bullshit—which was ironic considering how long he'd been deliberately blind about his own love life. None of my other siblings had ever been able to get me out of my head the way Rumi did.

"I'm gonna get drunk as fuck and pass out in my gigantic fuckin' house." I walked back toward my bike.

"I mean, that's not handlin' the situation whatsoever," he mused, following me. "But I'm down. I'll see what Nova's got goin' on."

"Who said you were invited?" I groused, pulling my helmet on.

"We're family." He grinned. "No invitation needed."

Hours later, he was right—I hadn't solved a single fucking thing, but thankfully, I could pretend that didn't give a shit. The house was loud as fuck, someone had taken away Bas's rights to the sound system, and I was laughing as Cian detailed a raunchy and seriously fucked up sexual encounter he'd had on his twentieth birthday.

"I didn't know you were such a freak!" Frankie laughed. "Wait, do we know this chick?"

"You don't," he replied, pointing at her.

"What's her name?"

"No names," he said seriously, burping. "That shit's not cool."

"I bet we know her," Frankie said to Lou, whose face was beet red with laughter.

"Doubt it," Cian said, waving her off. "You guys are babies."

"We're not babies!" Lou argued.

"You were then," he countered. "Middle schoolers or some shit."

"Oh god." Frankie fell back against the couch. "I forgot how old you guys are."

"Hey," I called out, pointing my beer at her. "I'm only two years older than you."

"And we're only a few years older than that," Bas added with a laugh.

"And we're older than all of you," Nova grumbled, snickering as Rumi wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"Agin' like a fine ass whiskey, sugar," Rumi told her, grinning.

She whispered something to him, making him pull her onto his lap. The girls booed.

"None of that," Myla ordered. "I haven't puked yet and I'd rather wait until later."

"Why would you say yet," Lou asked, laughing. "You just jinxed yourself."

"I was taking shots with Titus earlier," Myla replied with a shrug. "It's going to happen."

"Not it!" Frankie yelled.

"Not it," Lou said, almost as quickly.

"I don't need either of you to hold my hair back," Myla scoffed sticking her nose in the air.

"Right, because you know Cian will do it," Lou joked before slapping her hand over her mouth.

"She's on her own," Cian joked, his lips twitching. None of us believed him, not even Myla who shot him a small smile.

"I don't want your help anyway," she shot back. "Who knows where those hands have been?"

"All of us know," Bas cut in dryly. "He just told us and it was unpleasant."

"Come on, Bas," Frankie teased. "Tell us a story. You must have at least as many stories as Cian. You're way hotter."

"Hey," Cian yelled.

"He's got that bad boy thing going on," Frankie said, waving her hand at Bas. "With the piercings." Her eyes lit up. "Hey, Bas…do you have any other piercings in exciting places?"

"Sorry, doll," he murmured in amusement. "That's not a subject we're discussin'."

"You do!" she yelled, pointing at him. "You totally do!" She turned to me. "Doesn't he?"

"How the fuck would I know?" I barked.

"You live together!"

"We don't fuckin' shower together," Bas murmured, laughing at her.

"Hey, party people," Nova's little brother called out from the front door.

"Yay, Bird!" Myla yelled. "Come hang with us! These people are boring!"

"Looks like you're havin' a pretty good time to me," he joked, rounding the couch. "I can hear you guys from the driveway."

"Bas is going to tell us about all the piercings he has in unmentionable places," Frankie told him, bouncing in her seat.

"Please don't," Bird said to Bas.

"Wasn't plannin' on it," he agreed.

"You want a drink?" Lou asked, moving to get out of the nest she'd made herself in the corner of the sectional.

"Nah, don't get up," Bird replied, pointing his thumb at Nova and Rumi. "I'm just the DD for these two."

"Aw, you're leaving," Frankie complained. "It's not even that late."

"We're mature now," Rumi announced. "We go to bed early."

"You're old," Myla countered. "You can say it. You're old."

"That too," Nova joked. "Thanks for picking us up, brother."

"No worries," Bird replied, swinging his keys around on his finger.

"Remember what we talked about," Rumi ordered, pointing at me.

"What?"

"Earlier," he glared, swaying a little into Nova.

"Not ringin' a bell." I shook my head.

"You know—"

"He's fucking with you, baby," Nova told him, steering him toward the door. "Come on."

"You're an asshole," Rumi groused, looking at me over his shoulder.

"Love you, too, Rum," I called back as Nova led him out the door.

"We should play a drinking game," Myla announced once they were gone.

"You should be drinkin' water," Cian replied, moving into Rumi's spot on the couch. "Fuck, I thought he'd never get outta my spot."

"It's kind of sad that you have a designated spot on the couch," Frankie joked.

"This spot is perfect," Cian explained. "It's exactly the right distance from the coffee table so I can do this." He threw his feet up on the table and sighed loudly.

"Why do we party here?" Frankie asked Lou and Myla. "Seriously."

"No idea," Myla replied, snickering. "So boring."

"Yeah, let's go," Lou added, acting like she was going to get out of her nest.

"Sit," Bas ordered. "None of your drunk asses are goin' anywhere tonight."

"Bossy," Myla murmured.

"Drunk on power," Lou agreed.

"What's he gonna do," Frankie asked, looking Bas up and down. "Stop us?"

"Try it," Bas replied with a smile.

"You're all exhaustin'," I mumbled, closing my eyes as I leaned my head back against the couch.

"You're just tired because you got up so early," Myla countered.

"To go get your girlfriend," Frankie sang.

The silence that followed was telling. When I opened my eyes, Myla was glaring at a wide-eyed Frankie.

"She was never my girlfriend," I muttered. "Not then and not now."

"She was something," Lou said quietly. "We all remember it."

"Is she still gorgeous?" Frankie asked curiously.

"Yep," Myla replied. "She looks exactly the same except for the big pregnant belly."

I'd forgotten that she was at Otto's when we'd gotten back earlier. I hadn't even gone inside. As soon as I knew Noel had been delivered there safely I'd bailed like a fucking coward.

"I can't believe she has two kids already," Lou murmured. "I can't keep a houseplant alive."

"Almost three kids," Myla pointed out.

"No, thank you," Frankie snorted. "I'm not having kids until I'm like thirty."

"I doubt it was her choice," Lou said. "Wasn't she married?"

"The husband died," Myla replied. "Last night. That's why she called Esther."

"Jesus," Frankie murmured.

"Enough," Cian ordered, his voice low. "How would you feel if some chicks you barely knew were dissectin' your life."

"It's not like we're talking shit," Myla argued.

My shoulders tightened with every word spoken and what little distance I'd gained from the situation was gone. Now the only thing I could think of was the fact that Noel was less than ten minutes away. I finally knew what the fuck had happened after she left, or at least the bones of it, and it was somehow worse than not knowing.

"She's gonna have a hard enough time dealin' without the three of you runnin' your mouths," I snapped, getting to my feet.

"We weren't talking shit!" Myla repeated, throwing her hands in the air.

"Noel's life is none of your fuckin' business." My voice rose, the stress of the day finally too much. Fuck.

"It's my business if you're going to be panting after her again," Myla shot back snottily.

"Fuck you," I muttered. "Grow the fuck up."

I turned on my heel and stomped out of the room. I'd never fucking panted after Noel. It had never been about that. I'd been in love with her. I'd wanted to protect her and spend time with her. We'd fucked exactly once, in the back of my car, less than a week before her brother had moved them out of state with no warning and demolished all the plans we'd had. It had fucked me up for years, wondering if he'd somehow found out and that's why he'd suddenly relocated her and her mom, wondering if I'd just left her alone or been more careful not to get caught if they would've been able to stay in Eugene.

"Myla," Cian said quietly as I left, his disappointment evident.

There was no way I'd be able to close myself in my room when my blood was thumping so hard in my veins. I found myself in the garage a few minutes later, and I was taping my hands before I was even aware of what I was doing.

I'd set up a punching bag in the corner of the garage when I'd moved into the house and put it to use before I'd even bought a couch. I spent so much time out there that we'd eventually set up a little water station to remind me to drink something while I was working out.

Sweat was running down my back and I'd just stripped off my shirt when Bas came quietly into the garage.

"How you doin'?" he asked, pulling a lawn chair over.

"Does it look like I'm in the mood for a heart-to-heart?" I grunted, my knuckles burning.

"Girls are in bed," he replied, ignoring my brush off. "Except for Myla. She's pukin'."

"Cian with her?"

"Yep."

"'Course he is," I muttered.

"They feel like shit, you know. Myla especially."

"Good for them."

"I get that you're pissed."

"Oh, yeah?" I barked sarcastically, wiping my hand on my jeans. One of my knuckles had split and was bleeding all over the place. Goddammit.

"They're just worried about you," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Noel comin' back is huge."

"It's not."

"How do you figure?"

"She's been gone six years, man," I replied with an exasperated laugh. "What do you all think is gonna happen? She's had a whole fuckin' life up there. Neither of us is the same as when she left."

"Yeah, that shit would work on anyone else," he replied dryly, watching me in amusement. "But I rode home with the two of you. The tension in that SUV could've powered a small city."

"Not sure what everyone's expectin' me to do." I started yanking the tape off my hands. My knuckle wasn't going to stop bleeding without some glue. "I've been stuck in fuckin' limbo for years, not knowin' what was happenin' with her. Now I know. That's enough."

"So, that's it?"

"I don't even fuckin' know her anymore," I burst out, glaring at my best friend. He was so fucking calm I wanted to hit him. He was always calm. I'd rarely seen Bas angry. "She was fuckin' married. She has kids. I live in a fuckin' party house with two roommates. We've got nothin' in common."

Bas just nodded, getting to his feet as I walked toward the door.

"I don't remember you havin' anythin' in common when you were kids either," he mused as I stepped through the door, raising his voice to make sure I'd heard him. "Didn't seem to matter then."

Snagging a bottle of superglue from a drawer in the kitchen, I carried it up to my bathroom. Knuckle wounds were the worst because it didn't matter how I dressed them, they always opened back up and they always bled like a motherfucker.

After a quick shower, I wrapped a towel around my hips and got to work, pouring peroxide over the cut and using the superglue to close it up the best I could. I was actually a little thankful for the distraction and something to do. Between the session with the bag and the alcohol I'd had, by the time I was done cleaning up, I was more than ready to crash for the night.

The next morning I woke up ready to move the fuck on. I'd spent the last six years biding my time, waiting on Noel to show up or call or send a fucking smoke signal and now that she had, it was time to start moving forward. The girl I'd been waiting for was a completely different person now and that was fine. It was good. It made sense.

I didn't need to know why she hadn't called. I didn't need to know what her life had been like up in Washington. I didn't need the details. Whatever had happened in the time we were apart wasn't any of my business and I needed to fucking remember that.

The first call I made was to my sister-in-law, Emilia. Before anyone else in the house had even dragged their asses out of bed, I was headed to my parents' place to meet her for breakfast.

"Ma! I'm home," I yelled as I walked in the front door.

"We're in the kitchen," she called back.

"Uncle Titus!" my nephew Asa screamed, hopping off his chair so he could sprint toward me.

"Hey, baby Grease," I joked, swinging him up into my arms. "How you doin'?"

"I'm Asa," he corrected, squishing my cheeks between his hands.

"My bad," I replied. We both knew I'd call him baby Grease again. It was our thing.

"So what's the big news?" Emilia asked, setting down a plate of cut up pancakes on my niece's high chair.

"I'm sellin' the house," I announced, putting Asa down so I could walk over and ruffle his older brother's hair.

"I just fixed it," Rhett complained, scowling at me as he tried to smooth the hair back into place.

"Hey, princess," I crooned, ignoring his complaints as I kissed the baby on the head. The endearment was a little ironic considering the two-year-old was even more feral than her brothers. I swear, she always had something sticky in her blonde curls.

"What do you mean, you're selling the house?" my mom said slowly, watching me from across the island. "You love that house."

"It's just a house." I shrugged. I looked over at Emilia. "Didn't you say it was a seller's market?"

"Well, yeah," Emilia mumbled, looking between me and my mom. "But—"

"Big place, on property, with the raspberries and shit," I said, grinning. "I bet I could make bank."

"But then you'd still have to buy something else," my mom pointed out. "And you'd be paying through the nose for something not as good."

"I bet Emilia could find something."

"Does this have anything to do with—" My mom's words cut off as my dad and older brother Mick came in the back door. She turned to him. "Titus is saying he wants to sell his house."

Mick scoffed.

"Why don't you hold off on any big decisions for the moment," my dad muttered wryly.

"I've been thinkin' about it for a while," I argued. "That house is fuckin' massive—"

"Language," Emilia scolded.

"Sorry." I shot her an apologetic look. "It's huge. I don't need all that room."

"Bas and Cian movin' out?" Mick asked.

"Not that I know of," I replied. "But they could move into the new place. I've got the equity, I could get somethin' with a few bedrooms."

"What about when the girls crash at your house?" my mom asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Myla can sleep at her own fuckin' house," I shot back. I looked at Emilia in apology again. "Sorry."

"Like I said," my dad scoffed. "Wait a minute before you make any big life decisions, yeah?"

"Why?" I looked around the room.

"You had a pretty big day yesterday," my mom replied carefully.

"Sellin' my house has nothin' to do with that."

"Bullshit," Mick coughed.

"What Esther's sister does has nothin' to do with me."

"Oh, is that right?" my mom replied sarcastically.

"Yeah, it is." Noticing that my hands had fisted at my sides, I deliberately loosened my fingers. "I'm glad her and Esther are back together. Glad she's safe. Beyond that—" I threw my hands up.

"Titus, maybe your dad's right," Emilia said slowly.

"Should I just ask someone else?" I barked.

"Watch it," Mick warned, pointing at me.

"I can ask someone else to sell it for me," I said, changing my tone. He was right. I wasn't mad at Emilia and I sure as shit shouldn't speak to her like that. "I just thought you'd want the commission."

Emilia looked at my dad for a moment. "Sure, yeah, I can get things started for you," she said finally.

"Great."

"You're going to need to have the place cleaned and stuff," she said, wincing. "We'll need nice photos for the listing."

"Sure, anything you need."

She nodded.

"So," my mom drawled. "I'm glad that you're so cool with everything. You know, with Noel and all that."

I just stared at her, unsure where the conversation was headed.

"Because we're having a family dinner welcoming her home a week from Thursday—we want to give her some time to settle in first—and I expect you to be there."

"Fine." My stomach churned. I could be at the dinner. With the amount of people who'd be there, it would be easy to avoid Noel. After that, I could just go on avoiding her until when I thought of her, it was only as Esther's sister. It might take time, but it would happen eventually. Piece of cake.

"Buckle up, buttercup," Mick mumbled, his lips twitching.