Wild and Free (The Wilder Brothers)

Drew’s mother died in a heinous car crash with a drunk driver when he was only seven, but she was no saint before that. A chronic cheater and liar who struggled to tell even the basic truth. That woman could look at a blue wall and try her hardest to convince you it was yellow. And dealing with his mother spiraled his father into a well of drinking habits that got worse when she died and continued as Drew grew up. Even though Drew’s father was the patriarch of this entire family, he was also the biggest embarrassment. His father remained the biggest drunk any of us have ever known, so our family took Drew in and helped raise him from a very young age.

He was our brother, even if he d

idn’t come from our mother.

“And thank you Lord for keeping Lucas safe, even though he could’ve killed himself. Keep Your hands on him and help his sleeping habits, because You only know it’s gonna kill him one day, too. Amen.”

“A-fuckin’-men.”

“Amen.”

“All the Amens.”

“A-MEN!”

I chuckled and shook my head as we released hands, then we all started to divvy up the food. I filled my plate with all sorts of things that made my mouth water. Macaroni and cheese. Spiral, glazed ham. Mashed potatoes drowned in gravy. Sweet corn right off the cob and two massive slabs of fried chicken. Then, I poured myself a massive glass of sweet tea and chugged an entire one before I even touched my food.

“I see that glass didn’t puncture ya stomach,” Everett said.

“Even if it did, it wouldn’t stop Luke from eatin’,” Cayden said.

“He’d pop his damn stitches wide open stuffing his face with food,” Flynn said, smirking.

“You guys can stop it now. I’m tired of hearing you all joke about something that could’ve killed him,” Kane said.

“Awww, Mom’s no fun,” I said, grinning.

Cash shot me another glare as I spooned some corn into my mouth. I knew my brothers understood the situation could’ve been much more serious. And I knew they were worried. I watched them steal glances my way all throughout dinner. We kept the topics of conversation light and fluffy and stayed away from the serious topics, and I knew that was their way of coping. Joking was their way of coping with it. Hell, it was my way of coping, too.

But Cash was a little different from the rest of us, and he wasn’t having it.

Every single joke they made, he shut down. I couldn’t blame him. He was the oldest out of all of us, so he’s always felt the unnecessary need to protect us. Looking at me wounded without being able to do a damn thing about it was grating on him, and the joking only served to scrape at the issue in the back of his mind.

That he should’ve been there to protect me.

“So, what happened after you fell? Someone hear it and call 9-1-1 or something?” Cayden asked.

“We shouldn't make him talk about it,” Cash said.

“It’s fine. I’m good. You're not gonna like my answer, though,” I said.

“Fuck me, what did you do now?” Flynn asked.

“I forgot my cell phone when I went out to the site,” I said.

“Are you shittin’ me?” Everett asked.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” Drew said.

“I am. I ended up stumbling into a bar or something not too far from the site. And this woman was there who ended up calling an ambulance. Well, she yelled for someone to call an ambulance.”

“Oh, a woman. Tell me more,” Flynn mused.

“Really? He’s telling you how he stumbled with an open wound into a bar and you want to talk about the girl?”Cash asked.

“I’d actually like to talk about her,” I said.

“Uh oh. Falling in love with the guardian angel?” Drew asked.