Rock Redemption (Rock Revenge Trilogy 3)

I didn’t even know how much until my ancient tires hit the gravel winding road at the edge of my parents’ property.

My vision wavered at the sprawling ranch with the garden taking up half the side yard. My mom’s raised beds were planted and the vines of her green bean plants had already started climbing the little trellises my dad and I had made for her when I was ten.

At the top of the drive, my brother Beck’s motorcycle was parked behind my mom’s cherry red Silverado. The sun was disappearing behind the Honeycrisp trees in the south quadrant.

I stepped out of the truck, and the familiar crunch of sand and gravel was a comfort I didn’t even know I’d needed.

The screen door slapped and Beck came running down the stairs with his ever present red rag in his hands. Worry was etched on his scruffy, tanned face.

“Z?”

One look at my big brother and I crumbled like a damn fourteen-year-old with her first broken heart.

It had always been that way for me. Beck was the eldest and the sturdiest of all my brothers.

He shoved his rag in his back pocket, lowered himself to me and wrapped his strong arms around me to lift me up. Without a word, he just held me and stroked his big, rough hand down my braid. Sunshine and freshly cut grass filled my lungs.

Once upon a time, he’d smelled only of cigarettes. Evidently, his decision to quit had stuck this time.

I gripped my fingers in the worn Henley-style shirt he’d worn for work every day since he’d taken over for our dad in the orchard.

“Is everything okay?” he finally asked.

“Yeah.” I finally let him go and dropped back onto the ground. I dashed away the tears that had fallen. I hadn’t cried since that day in the shower all those weeks ago.

“Who made you cry? I’ll kill him.”

A laugh bubbled out of my chest. “Who says it’s a him?”

His eyebrow zinged up. “All right, I’ll kill her. I don’t care.”

“He’s not important.”

“He is if he made you cry.”

I hooked my arm through my brother’s and dragged him up toward the house. “It’s a bit more than that, actually. I just didn’t know I needed to come home until I was almost here. Then there you were.” I punched his arm—the immovable one because my brother did nothing but freaking manual labor. “And I just had a little moment.”

“You don’t cry.”

I found my smile and gave it to him. “Surprised me too.”

He gestured to the truck. “That’s not a home visit.”

“No.”

“Fountain of info, Z.”

“It’s the kind I only want to tell once.”

“Oh, family meeting?”

I rolled my eyes. “If you like.”

He unearthed his iPhone—at least four versions ago—and started one-handed texting as he smushed me into his chest and took a picture before sending it off to someone. Probably my other brother, Justin.

He stopped before we hit the porch stairs and crouched down. I must have looked exceptionally bad if he was offering up a piggyback ride. I jumped on his back, and he hefted me higher. “Hold on like you mean it.”

My vision blurred, but I gripped his neck. He gave an exaggerated grunt as he climbed the steps and swung the door open. “I found a little something in the driveway.”