Chapter Eight
BRIGGS
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The porch swing creaksquietly as I tuck my knees to my chest, sip coffee and scroll through my Instagram feed in the early morning sun. Millie tosses a baseball into the air. The soft thwack of the ball landing in her glove is repetitive but soothing. Until last night I never thought much about her attraction to the sport. I catch with her and take her to batting practices but the way her face lit up when Xan talked about his old teammates, I’ve never really thought about how much it would mean to her to belong to a team.
Our life isn’t set up for team sports. We live in a motorhome and chase the warm weather all over North America. My business is booming, and the demand is high. I manage my public image in such a way that the mystery and exclusivity of Wild & Free Designs keeps it in the public eye. The fact that I post pictures of my travels and how I source material for my jewelry nestles me in this perfect little niche market of adventurous women who also love fashion.
None of this was done on purpose. I didn’t mean to become an Instagram Influencer. It was as surprising to me as anyone else. My aunt told me to get a hobby when I was pregnant so I could quit smoking—something to do with my hands that was intricate. She took up knitting. I went with threading tiny necklace chains around rocks I’d polished from the creek behind her Surrey property.
“Mom, watch,” Millie calls from the stretch of grass behind the house and I tuck my phone under my leg. She throws the ball high into the air and does a little dance as she gets herself into position to catch it behind her back.
“Wow, that’s a pretty awesome trick,” a male voice sounds and I launch forward, my mom instincts mixing with my own startled system—ready to defend her like the night of the break in.
Jet saunters his massive frame into the back yard. Guys like Jet are allowed to saunter. When you’re shaped like a brick shit house you don’t have too much to worry about. I must have been so deep in my own thoughts I didn’t hear the tires on the gravel.
Millie clutches her glove to her chest, her cheeks pink with embarrassment.
“Fire it here.” Jet holds out a hand for her to toss him the ball. Millie’s unsure so I give her a reassuring nod. Jet’s massive but he’s a teddy bear. Large, fuzzy, and mean on the outside but completely squishy on the inside. He has the heart of a protector. He and Xan make the perfect Ryker team to keep their younger siblings safe and on track to becoming decent humans. Well I don’t know about Zeke—he was the most obnoxious ten-year-old I’d ever known. It stunned me to realize that the last time I saw Ezekiel Ryker he was Millie’s age.
Millie throws the ball to Jet and he spins it in his hand, shooting her a warm smile beneath a bushy beard. He’s handsome but not like Xan. Although I’d never seen a man more beautiful than Xan. He set a very high standard for me at a very young age. No guy I’ve ever dated lived up to it, and there were only a couple. Dating while living in an RV with a child is pretty tricky so I gave up. The handful of dates I went on were less than stellar, especially with Vince. The thought of him makes me shudder and grip my cellphone like it’s going to magically start ringing.
Jet lets the ball smack into his palm once more before throwing it behind his back so it pops over his shoulder and sails right into Millie’s glove. Her eyes sparkle with joy.
“Cool,” she says. “How did you do that?”
“I can teach you, if you come to practice tomorrow. I coach the coed team. You should come play with us while you’re here.” Jet shrugs, Millie beams, and I flinch.
We aren’t going to be here for long. Long enough to get the house prepped for sale and my dad back on his literal feet and then it’s highway time again. Hopefully my little problem will have blown over by then, too. Spring is almost over, summer is on its way and that’s when I get most of my sourcing done. I’m already very behind, according to Leslie.
I’m getting a lot of comments asking for new content for Wild & Free, some of them are getting a little aggressive. I’m mostly used to the haters but the people who really get me online are the fanatics. The people who OMG I LOVE YOU SO MUCH on everything I post until I say or make one thing they don’t like and their undying love turns to scathing hatred in a flip of a switch. Those are the people that scare me.
“Mom, can I?” Millie breaks through my thoughts again and I clear my throat.
“You can. We’ll take you in tomorrow. I’m sure Pops would love to see you play too.”
I’m trying. Goddamit, I’m trying so hard to give her what she wants. What she needs. But this place kills me. These memories suffocate me. The road isn’t safe for us right now, but this stagnant and stale small-town life has too many reminders. Reminders of lies and betrayals but at the same time intense passion and deep-rooted love.
My mother was distant and distracted, but she loved me. My father was harsh and strict, but he loves me. My life was not hard or painful like Xan’s. But it was hollow. Sunday dinners were blanketed with polite conversation, covering up festering wounds of insecurity and instability. I knew my parents loved me. What I wasn’t sure of was if they loved each other.
The real question is was our whole family was built on a foundation of lies?
So, when Xan fell at my feet and worshiped me mind body and soul I dove straight into that love hoping it was deep enough to swallow me whole. It was. Fucking hell, it was so deep I couldn’t find the surface.
“That’s great. I’ll expect to see you there.” Jet’s voice shifts from jolly and fun to stern. “Why I’m really here though is on official business to clean up this goddamned mess you made.”
It’s my turn for flushed cheeks and my slippered toe to dig in the crack of the wood porch.
“I was angry.” I have no real excuse, not that I think Jet would accept it. He’s like a human lie detector test that man.
“Xan told me.” Jet sits on the steps and I join him. We were silent for a while, watching Millie try the over-the-shoulder throw Jet did.
“And you didn’t know either?” I ask.
“I didn’t. None of us did. Not even mom. I think Dad was in cahoots with your mom over it.”
A snortle of a laugh burst from my lungs and I lean over to bump his shoulder with mine. “Did you just say cahoots?”