Page 12 of The Bad Brother

I ’VE BEEN SITTING IN THE MOSTLY EMPTY parking lot in front of the old Barrett Mill for nearly fifteen minutes now, trying to talk myself into forgetting this whole crazy thing before the young woman who ambushed me at the coffee shop a few hours ago shows up and makes leaving impossible.

Try as I might, I can’t seem to jam my key back into the ignition and start my car.

Because I’m morbidly curious about what she considers a great place and too desperate for it to be as great as she claims, for my own good.

How great can it be, Sloane? It’s an apartment over a bar.

Not just a bar —the most notorious bar in Barrett county.

I’ve heard stories. How rowdy it can get.

That the owner will let his patrons brawl in the parking lot as long as he gets to fight the last man standing.

Rumors about what goes on in the basement—illegal, bare-knuckle boxing for money.

The ED has a revolving door on the weekends because of this place.

Stitches and broken bones. Concussions and missing teeth.

Just thinking about it makes me question my sanity because I’m still here.

Because as long as the place has a working toilet and I can afford the deposit, I’m going to take it.

I’ve exhausted all of my options and I’d rather room with an army of rats than tell Ragnar I failed at getting my shit together within her timeframe, and I’d rather kiss one of those rats on the mouth than give in and move in with my mother and Mark.

She texted me again, just as I was leaving the coffee shop.

Mom: Don’t forget you promised me lunch at the club. I’m booked all this week and most of next. How does Saturday, the 24th work for you?

I have no idea if Saturday the 24th works for me but since it’s a nearly two-week reprieve, I don’t argue. If I’m lucky, something besides my fall from grace will garner her attention between then and now and she’ll forget all about me.

Me: The 24th is perfect.

Hearing the crunch of tires rolling across gravel, I look up to watch an ancient but well-maintained, topless jeep roll past me, the young woman I met at the coffee shop, sitting in the driver seat.

Me: I love you, Mom

Hitting send, I jam my phone back into my purse and climb out of my car, just as the old Jeep rolls to a stop in front of the bar, next to a primer gray muscle car.

Unlatching her seatbelt, River throws me a bright smile.

“You actually showed up!” she practically shouts before hopping down from her seat through a gaping hole where her driver’s side door should be.

Throwing her hand up to shade her eyes from the sun, she watches me walk toward her.

“I was sure you were lying when you said you would.”

Laughing even though I’m pretty sure I’ve just been insulted, I shake my head.

“A promise is a promise.” Looking past her, I give the sturdy, two-story brick building a skeptical once over.

The front door is propped open with a large rock.

Even though we’re less than a hundred miles from Dallas and we’re firmly planted in Cowboy country, AC/DC’s TNT pushes its way through the open door, occasionally punctuated by the sound of clinking glass.

Even though it’s obvious, and I already know the answer, I ask anyway. “This is a bar, right?”

“It hasn’t always been but yeah—” She bobs her head, her smile dimming just a bit. Probably because she can hear the apprehension in my tone, despite my determination to see this through. “it’s a bar. Do you still want to take a look?”

“Yes.” I give her a nod, curiosity and desperation winning out over apprehension and self-preservation. “I still want to take a look.”

Grinning at me like I just passed some sort of test, River loops her arm through mine and starts to drag me through the open front door.

“We’re closed on Sundays and Mondays,” she tells me while I’m momentarily blinded by the sudden light change.

“I’m not sure why Cade’s here.” River stops, mid drag while I blink, dispersing the dots dancing in front of my eyes. “Why are you here?”

Vision finally cleared, I see a tall, tattooed man in his late twenties behind the bar, polishing glasses.

Sitting at the bar in front of him is a little boy, no older than ten, a textbook and spiral notebook open in front of him.

They’re both staring at me like I’m some sort of animal, escaped from the zoo.

“Jen had some stuff to do, so I came in to do the re-set and wait for a few deliveries,” the man says before dropping his gaze to the boy sitting in front of him. “Let’s go, Gun—those fractions aren’t going to multiply themselves.”

Tearing his gaze away from me, the boy sighs. “Yes, sir,” he grumbles before refocusing on his notebook.

Setting the glass in his hand on a wire rack, the man looks at us again. “Who you got there, Riv?” He says it to River, but he’s looking right at me, giving me that escaped animal from the zoo feeling again.

“This is Sloane,” River says before she starts walking again, dragging me across the bar to a set of stairs tucked into a corner. “She’s going to rent the loft.”

When she says it, the man makes a weird noise in the back of his throat. Watching us while he polishes another glass, he nods. “Sounds good.”

I can’t be entirely sure but I think he’s trying not to laugh.

“Don’t pay attention to him,” River tells me, right before she drags me up the stairs. “Cade’s an asshole.”

“I heard that,” the man calls up from the bar below us while the little boy laughs .

“ Good ,” River shouts back, making the little boy laugh even harder.

“Sorry—it’s not always like this.” Gaining the top of the stairs, we walk down a long, wide hallway with a simple, wooden door on either side.

“Weekdays are usually pretty quiet.” Stopping in front of one of the doors, she palms the knob.

“Things don’t really kick up until Thursday night—Friday and Saturday are obviously our busiest nights. ”

What a coincidence, those are also the busiest nights for our emergency room.

Before I can say it out loud, River opens the door with a small flourish and I fall in love.

Holy shit.

Stepping into the large, open space, I turn myself in a slow circle to take it all in.

Gleaming hardwood floors. Exposed brick on the exterior walls.

Twenty-foot ceilings crisscrossed with refurbished wood beams. A kitchen with living edge countertops and brand-new, restaurant-quality appliances.

Living room and dining room, both gorgeously furnished by someone with taste and who can afford quality.

On the other side of the living room is a spiral staircase that leads to a large, open loft space.

I can see the ornate footboard of a king-size bed from where I’m standing.

“There’s a half bath for guests behind the kitchen, across from the laundry room.

The bedroom and a full bath are upstairs,” River says behind me while I wander around and try not to gawk.

Stopping in front of a pair of large, floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors, I open one to step out onto a well-appointed terrace that looks out across a rolling green lawn that leads down to the river.

I can see the hospital’s ambulance bay from here.

When I’m on call, I could be across the bridge and scrubbing in for surgery within fifteen minutes.

It's perfect. Absolutely perfect.

“It comes furnished,” River says, confirming my worst fears. “Utilities included and it’s move in ready—you can move in right now if you want.”

No, I can’t because above the rowdiest bar in Barrett county or not, there’s no way I can afford this place.

Turning away from the window, I give River a brittle smile while I fight back frustrated tears.

“You’re right, River—this place is great.

” Looking around I try not to imagine myself living here.

“Better than great—it’s probably the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.

Which is why I can’t possibly afford it. ”

Now River frowns at me. “How do you know? You don’t even know how much the rent is. You didn’t even ask.”

She’s right, I didn’t. Because I don’t have to. Because whatever it is, it’s more than I have at the moment, but I ask anyway. “Okay… how much is rent.”

“Five hundred a month.” She blurts it out like she just pulled the number from thin air.

“Five hundred?” I repeat the number like I must’ve heard wrong. When all she does is nod her head in confirmation, I sigh. “What about the security deposit? Terms—first and last? Cleaning fee?”

She gives me a shrug. “I don’t want any of that. Just give me five-hundred dollars and its yours.”

“River…” Shaking my head, I start to tell her she’s crazy, even while something wild flutters in my belly.

Hope .

It feels like hope.

Hope that I’ve found a clean, decent place to regroup and lick my wounds that is not only affordable but almost as close to the hospital as my condo.

Before I can say anything, she cuts me off. “Look—” sweeping her gaze around the room, she sighs. “I’ve been bugging Jen to let me rent this place out for months now. He finally said yes and if I don’t get someone in here, fast, he’s gonna change his mind.”

“Wait—” Suddenly confused, I shake my head. “your boss doesn’t want to rent the place out?”

“Yes, he does.” River gives me a stubborn head nod. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”

Frowning, I shake my head. “I don’t know what that means, River.”

“It means Jen needs to move on and he’s never going to be able to do it while this place is empty.” River sighs. “He told me I can rent it to whoever I want. He won’t kick you out. I won’t let him—I swear.”

Even though I still have no idea what she’s talking about, I feel myself start to bend. This is such a bad idea.

Shit.

I’m going to regret this—I just know it.

But I’m desperate and head over heels in love with the thought of living in this place, no matter how temporary.

Driven by impulse and instinct, I reach into my bag and pull out my wallet. Opening it, I retrieve the stack of bills I stuffed in there over a week ago to secure Ethan’s wedding gift. “I have fifteen hundred dollars, cash—can I pay three months in advance?”

If I pay in cash in advance and there’s a binding lease agreement signed before River’s boss finds out, he can’t kick me out, no matter how much he wants to.

At least that’s what I’ve decided to tell myself.

“Yes.” Like she’s reading my mind, River swipes the cash out of my hand with a grin. “Let’s go downstairs and get the lease signed before Jen comes back.”