Read Into the Nothing (Broken Outlaw Series Book 1) for Free Online

of your sexual activity with my father to yourself. I may not eat the rest of the day now!” I ball up a piece of paper and throw it at her head. It hits her squarely in the forehead—twelve years of softball weren’t wasted—and falls to the ground.
    “The sexual activity we should be discussing”—she leans in and whispers as if telling a secret—”or lack thereof, I should say… is yours!” She chuckles.
    “Mom, I think we have talked enough about my sexual activity to last me a lifetime. As an employee of Watson Metalworks, I could no doubt sue you for sexual harassment. Don’t you make me go there.”
    “Well, good thing I’m your mother then, huh? And remember, I can still fire you.” She winks. “Now spill the beans!”
    “Fine, he was wearing a wife beater, damn it. And holy shit, I almost fainted.”
    “Did Brandi get a look at him?”
    “You know she did.”
    “I can only imagine how that went.”
    “If I wasn’t there, I’m positive she would’ve undressed on the spot.”
    “Oh boy, I love that girl, but I hope he steers clear!” She stops fiddling with the plans and looks at me. “Who was he eyeing more?”
    “Huh?”
    “You were both in PJs, I assume?”
    I nod. “Well, a tank and short shorts.”
    “And I assume you both spoke to him when you saw him, right?”
    Another nod.
    “So where were his eyes? On you… or on her?”
    I think about this for a moment, not immediately recalling who exactly he was looking at. But as I scan my brain for the events that transpired earlier, I’m pleased with what I find.
    “Me.” I can feel her smile.
    “You liiiiike him.” She makes kissing faces and gets far more of a kick out of it than I do.
    “You and Brandi, I swear. What the hell am I going to do with you two?”
    “You know you love us.” Mom smiles and déjà vu hits me from my conversation with Brandi earlier. They are so alike. Too alike sometimes. But God, how I love them.

 

     
    M om managed to finish the day’s sculptures in record time, and she currently has a pot roast in the slow cooker. It fills the house with a delightful aroma, making my stomach growl with anticipation. Dad helps set the table. He’s in from work far earlier than usual and helps Mom set the table.
    The chilly early March air bites at my skin as I cross the gravel driveway to the guesthouse to get Xander for dinner. Just as I reach the door, I hear an acoustic guitar being played flawlessly, followed by the muffled sound of Xander singing. I can’t make out the words through the door, but the beauty in his voice is obvious. It’s sounds somewhere between Aaron Lewis and Kurt Cobain, with a touch of gravel but also sweet and alluring. He hits every note perfectly, holding it just long enough. There’s pain in his words, but something else too. It’s hard to tell. Maybe hope?
    Before I even realize it, I’ve spent five minutes with my ear against the door. When he finishes his song, I snap back to reality. I rap two knuckles against the door and hear an ‘oh shit,’ followed by the loud clatter..
    “Just a second!” he calls, his voice cracking. A moment passes and then I hear, “Alright, it’s open.” I walk in and he’s sitting on the bed, his guitar case stuffed underneath it but still peeking out.
    “So, I was told to get you for dinner, but that’s just about the last thing on my mind right now.”
    His eyes dart across the room.
    “What do you mean?” he asks, knowing full well he’s caught. His bashful state makes him that much more appealing in my eyes.
    “I heard you. You are so talented.”
    He cracks a nervous smile. “What? I just had the radio playing.”
    My eyes roll, and my hands hit my hips. “You little shit, play something for me!” He looks shocked and feigns offense. “No way. I’ve never played in front of anyone.”
    “You just did. I was outside the door for a good five minutes. Now play for me.”
    “Nope. Never.” He crosses his arms. It’s