Mancave (Wild Men 3)

Ross.

Matt opens his door, but I’m out of the truck before he makes it around to help me down. He reaches for my hand and wraps his fingers around mine as the two men split, each heading in a different direction without as much as a word or a nod at each other.

Ross is walking straight toward us, but I don’t think he’s noticed us. His head is down, his shoulders hunched, his shoes dragging on the asphalt.

Matt tugs me to his side, and we wait. Ross slows down a few feet away, his head coming up. He stops. His duffel drops to the ground.

His jaw goes slack, and his eyes flash with confusion. His mouth forms a shape—a word—but I can’t make it out. Maybe it’s a curse.

I take a step forward, pulling on Matt’s hand. “Ross.”

He shakes his head, then stills. “Octavia? What are you doing here?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I can’t stop staring at him, at my half-brother, with Merc’s eyes, and Gigi’s mouth, and that white-blond hair. His angular face has its own beauty, a beauty I never cared to notice when all I wanted was to spit on and slap that face for hurting me so much.

But above all I’m shocked at the changes in him—how much taller he is, leaner, kind of bent at the shoulders. I look at his thinner face, the hint of stubble, the wary eyes and can hardly believe this is Ross, the boy I once knew.

My nemesis. The boy I hated.

The family I left behind when I left Destiny. I gave him no thought for years, tried to put my life before Matt behind.

But you can’t erase the past, can’t delete it. Where would you stand otherwise to face the future?

Matt steps forward, grabs Ross’s duffel bag, swings it over his shoulder. “We came to drive you home. Unless you have other arrangements?”

Ross’s gaze swings to Matt, brows drawing together. He shakes his head.

“Good. Then get into the pickup.” Matt’s other hand is still wrapped around mine, and he pulls me back. “Come on, Tay. Let’s go.”

We turn back to the pickup, and I keep craning my neck to look at Ross, pretending to be tucking my hair behind my ears.

He’s still standing there, in the middle of the street, staring.

“Matt…”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” My door was left open, so he just helps me up and into the passenger seat. He throws the duffel into the back seat. His double cabin truck is big, which is useful when we are with the kids. He stalks slowly around the truck, then stops and gestures at my half-brother. “Move it, Ross. Octavia wanted to talk to you, but don’t test my patience, or I’ll just drive away and leave you here, got it?”

“Matt!” I slam my hand into the windshield. “You won’t.”

But what Matt said seems to snap Ross out of his shock. He blinks, then starts toward the pickup. Still staring at Matt, he opens the door to the back seat and climbs inside.

After a moment, Matt does the same, sliding behind the wheel, closing his door, and suddenly it’s the three of us inside the truck cabin, with the strong odor of male musk, unspoken questions, and sweat running down my back and slicking my palms.

“Let’s grab some coffee,” Matt says, and I stare straight ahead, doing my best not to turn and look at Ross. “You two can talk. Then we drop you off home, and we’re on our merry way.”

“Your merry way where?” Ross mutters, his voice flat. “Back to St. Louis?”

“Where else? That’s where we live.” Matt doesn’t look back at Ross either, his eyes on the road as he swings the truck around and takes us back to the highway.

“Yeah.” Ross snorts. “Got away, didn’t you? Or so you thought. You went far away, and thought you’re different now, someone important, not fucking dirt from Destiny, middle of butt-fuck nowhere.”

“Fuck you, Ross,” Matt mutters.

Crap.

“You turn up to pick me up and talk? You shitting me? You thought that we’d be buddies now, or what? You had me locked up once because you thought I kidnapped your kids. I bet your little girlfriend here put you up to it, told you I had to be the one, and guess what? You all went away, but every time there was a brawl, the police picked me up, locked me up and piled it all on me.” His hand comes hard on my shoulder from behind, startling a yelp out of me. “You little bitch.”

“That’s it.” The truck veers onto the shoulder, and Matt steps on the brakes. The truck comes to a stop. He half-turns in the seat. “if you speak that way to my wife ever again, I’ll punch your face until not even your own goddamn father recognizes you. And then I’m gonna leave you here to walk back on your own. Got it?”