Page 112 of Rev
Finally, Myka uncurls from me and looks up at me. “Could I…” a hesitation. “You mind if I talk to my mom and sisters for a bit? Not because I’m keeping anything from you, I just—”
I touch her lips. “Yeah, babe. Anything.”
Jordan and Angus rise, and Ana’s husband follows suit—I never caught his name.
“We’ll go do man stuff in the barn.” Angus jerks his head toward the backyard, looking at me.
I set her on the couch beside me, pinch her chin, smile down at her. “You’re a real ass-kicker, you know.”
She smiles up at me, nuzzles her nose into my palm, kisses. “Wasn’t until I met you. Like you said you’re rubbing off on me.” Another kiss to my palm, and she then joins our hands. “In all the right ways.”
I stand up, but she doesn’t let go of my hand. “We’ll give you ladies some space.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” She gazes up at me, finally releasing my hand. “The boys know the signal when we’re done.”
* * *
The barn,the old one, is apparently their version of a man cave. Inside, it’s huge, cavernous, echoing, the rafters far overhead, the walls gapped to let in the moonlight. It’s built into a hill, so if you approach from the house, you walk up a slant into what feels like the ground floor, but if you go around the side, you walk down the hill and into a space beneath where there’s stable space. It’s kind of disorienting. The top level, where the bulk of the barn’s space is, is a soaring open area with creaky floors, a loft far above accessible by a ladder I’m not sure I’d trust my weight to. I hear fluttering up in the rafters. Under the loft, there’s a workbench cluttered with power tools of all sorts, littered with tractor parts and various odds and ends. There’s also a fridge that very well may have been new when Myka’s great-grandfather built the house in the forties—it’s still running, though, humming and rattling away noisily. There are also a couple of ratty, falling apart, stained easy chairs, a wobbly card table, a handful of mismatched folding chairs, and a large gray plastic garbage bin full of empty beer cans, and another partially full of trash.
Juniper’s fiancé is named Ben, Mallory’s fiancé is Kellan, and Ana’s husband is Andrew.
And it turns out the men do drink beer, but only out here, and I get the feeling it’s kind of an open secret.
Since I’m not sure how to handle it, whether I should drink or not, I decide to just ask, when Angus is ripping cans of a local IPA out of the rings and passing them out.
“Thought ya’ll didn’t drink,” I remark, accepting but not opening the beer.
Angus and Jordan trade looks, and Angus answers; Angus is more like Ana and Faith in appearance, being shorter, dark of hair, and running to stout rather than tall and lean like Jordan.
“We don’t, as a general rule. Sometimes, we boys hang out here and crack a couple cold ones.” He looks at me, his dark eyes assessing. “We don’t drink to get drunk, though. Drinkin’ a couple beers ain’t a sin, it’s the drunkenness that is.”
Jordan pops his open and sips. “It’s for Mom, really.”
“Jordy,” Angus warns.
“What? You see how she is with him. You saw how he handled that asshole. And it ain’t exactly a family secret.” He looks at me, then. “Mom hates alcohol. Her dad was a drunk, and a mean one. Real mean. Knocked everyone in that house around. Gramps got sober when Mom was thirteen, and ain’t had a drop since, but Mom’s always refused to have any kind of alcohol in her life because of it. Dad’s got no issues havin’ a beer now and then, like Gus said. But for Mom, he only does it once in a while, after gatherings like today, and only out here where Mom doesn’t have to see it.” He gestures around at the barn, the other men. “This is the real welcome committee.”
I pop the beer and drink—it’s intensely hoppy, which isn’t my thing, but it’s a cold one, and I appreciate their effort to welcome me. “Makes sense.”
Angus is eyeing me, and I get the feeling it’s his approval that’ll be the hardest to win.
I rest my can on my knee and meet his eyes. “Got questions, ask ‘em.”
“You seem awful cool, considering you damn near killed Darren, and it didn’t seem like you were even tryin’ very hard.”
“Want me to cry into my beer?” I grumble. “Obviously, I wasn’t there for their relationship. Just what she’s told me, and what I heard her say. And I know how she is with me. He’s a dick, and that’s about as nice as I can put it.” I take a sip, struggling for the right words. Figure, in the end, I can only be me and hope that’s good enough for them, like it is Myka. “Want truth, Angus? Truth is, I coulda killed him with a twitch of my fingers, and I wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep over it. Fact is, I’ve killed better men for less.” I lean forward, toward him. “I grew up hard, and life made me harder. Your sister is the only good thing I’ve ever fuckin’ known in my whole life, except my brother Chance. So the truth is, I’d spill rivers of blood for Myka, and I wouldn’t blink twice doin’ it. She’s shown me soft and sweet, and how the fuck that pathetic fuck-stick back there didn’t see how much that woman has to give, I can’t figure out. But he let her go, he didn’t want her or what she has to offer, and for reasons I can’t begin to understand, she’s chosen me to give it to.”
Angus holds my gaze, his expression unreadable. “He smacked her, and you about killed him.”
“If you’re asking if I’d ever hurt her, I hope that’s obvious.”
“Gus.” Jordan smacks his brother’s shoulder backhanded. “Back off, man. He’s cool.”
“She’s had it rough, married to Darren. None of us liked him, not ever. Can’t tell an eighteen-year-old anything, though, and especially not an eighteen-year-old girl in love.” Angus leans back, takes a slug. “We all want her to have it good. Have someone who gives as much to her as she gives to him.”
I sip, sigh. “Don’t know the first goddamn thing about love. That’s the truth. What it looks like, how it feels, what to do with it. I just know I’m not giving up what she’s offering, not for anyone and not for anything. She walks away, I’ll let her. Not saying I wouldn’t fight to keep her, but if she wanted gone, I’d respect it. I…” I fight the urge to crush the can in my fist. “She seems willing to teach me what to do. How to…be with her. She seems to trust me. Not gonna get into your relationship with your sister, but it seems to me you got no choice but to deal with that, like it or not.”
Angus sighs, nods. “Fair enough. Just don’t break her heart.”