Page 1 of The Rowdy Ones

Ifeel like I’m escaping a prison.

The bars enclosing me in are those of my mother. Tight, unbreakable, admittedly safe. Tension and anxiety claw at me as I consider what it’ll mean leaving them of my own accord.

No hovering.

No treating me like a little girl.

No walking around on tiptoes around me.

I’ll be in a different world to me and on my own. Well, not completely alone.

“The second you feel uncomfortable,” Mom whispers against my hair, hot tears soaking my scalp, “you have them take you and Rowdy back home. Promise me, Dez.”

I nod and keep my voice even despite the emotion clogging my throat. “I promise, Mom.”

The cold winter wind whips at us, threatening with more snow coming our way, but we remain steadfast and unmoving. Despite the chill, her warmth surrounds and protects me. She strokes my back and whispers more comforting assurances, her forever peachy scent enveloping me. How easy it would be to change my mind, choose to stay home instead. Maybe things will get better.

Or they could get worse.

I could actually succeed if it comes to that again.

The throbbing regret in my gut is more nagging than the gnawing pain in my wrist. Taking Dad’s razor to my flesh felt like the out I ached for and needed. Life was too much. Dark and full of despair. It wasn’t until I’d dug the sharp blade through my tender flesh that I realized my mistake.

I didn’t mean to.

Okay, so I meant to.

I just didn’t think it through before I did it. Thankfully, I was almost immediately found and my family did what they always do. They took care of it.

And now I’m going away to live with Uncle Atticus and Aunt Eve. They’re not really my aunt and uncle, but we all pretend anyway.

“Devon,” Dad rumbles from behind us. “They’re ready to go.”

As if there’s a threat in his voice to rip me away from her, the vise around me tightens. Mom’s sobs intensify. I’m no longer able to hold back my tears. I cry quietly, hating that I’m the reason she’s so upset. My pain and suffering were supposed to be mine only. I never meant to share them with everyone in my entire family. It makes me feel like a cruel monster, lashing unnecessary whips of heartache against the backs of the ones I love most.

This is why I have to go.

I need a fresh start.

Mom releases me only when Dad physically wrenches us apart. I stagger backward, needing the space between us, only to bump into a firm body. As soon as a whiff of smoke and pine infiltrates my senses, I know it’s my brother Rowdy.

Strange how I can tell everyone apart on scent alone. I suppose being nearly blind will hone those other four senses.

“Ready?” he asks, steadying me by holding on to my shoulders gently.

I nod jerkily and allow him to lead me away from my mother, who’s turned hysterical. Rowdy’s massive palm settles on the middle of my back and he guides me to Wild’s truck. It’s unusually hot and warms my cold, numb back.

“Want to sit up front with Wild?”

“No,” I rush out.

Wild scoffs, feigning offense. “I don’t stink that bad, little Dezzy.”

I force out a small laugh, but he’s not telling the truth. Wild smells strong. He wears cologne and I hate it. Once, he brought my brothers each a bottle of what he wears. I convinced Kota to steal it from them and bury the haul in the yard. They were pissed, but at least I didn’t have to deal with it for however long a bottle would last.

Rowdy opens the door behind the passenger side for me. I let out a squeak of surprise when he grabs my waist and hoists me up into the tall truck without warning. He slides on my seat belt for me, making me feel like a child. Heat burns my cheeks, but I bite my tongue. I’m done causing problems for my family. Making a fuss will only stress him out more. I reach until I find my backpack sitting in the center of the bench seat and rummage through it for my blanket.

Within minutes, we’re rolling away from our homestead and on our way to society and people. Wild, from the driver’s side of his truck, thrums the steering wheel and sings along to songs I’ve never heard before. I’m thankful for the distraction. It means Rowdy won’t be able to silently worry over me. Wild keeps engaging him in conversation about “how fucking awesome it is” that they can hang out.