Marius

Wasn’t it enough that I woke up sober?

Which jackass stole my leg?

I crawled out of the shower. Real dignified. At least my asshole brothers left me a towel.

Where the fuck was my cane? If I still had one. I’d broken the last one in a fit a rage. Happened to splinter over my good knee. Not like it mattered. I didn’t want to be seen with the damn thing anyway. Made me look weak. At least I could hide the miserable prosthetic by wearing pants.

This felt like something Quint would do. The little prick probably stole the leg thinking it’d be good for a laugh. Then again, I didn’t put it past Tidus either. He got off on pissing with people. Didn’t get enough attention as a kid so he took it all as an adult.

I didn’t bother with the shirt and just shoved my stump through a pair of jeans. The wall worked as a crutch. I hobbled to the kitchen.

“Where the fuck is my leg?”

I hadn’t expected the entire family to greet me with scowls, crossed arms, and a bottle of Jack. And I really didn’t like that my young, impressionable, innocent little sister already wagged her finger in my face.

“Why don’t you check by the bag you packed?” Cassi asked.

She was five foot nothing and full of sass. She wouldn’t have made it through the SEALs, but she’d scare the piss out of my squad.

She crossed her arms. “You were just gonna leave, weren’t you?”

I didn’t answer. This enraged her. She spun to address my brothers, smacking my chest in the process. She liked the solid thwap so much she did it twice.

“Can you believe him?” She groaned and checked her phone. “You guys—take care of this. I have to go get Rem and make sure his nieces are presentable for their court date. But when I get back?” Cassi scowled at me. “I better see your clothes back in the drawers and your ass on the couch.”

She stormed out of the kitchen. The door slammed behind her.

Good. Now I didn’t need to worry about bloodshed in front of a lady.

Julian shouldn’t have bothered. He poured a shot of whiskey and downed it just as fast.

“You better figure your shit out quick,” he said. “I got a baby alpaca who's just as irritable as her mother, a three-legged goat who nearly choked on a petticoat, and a blind rooster humping every fence post thinking it’s my goddamned chicken—the one who still isn’t laying eggs. I don’t have time to herd any more fucked up animals. Just admit that you’re being an asshole and help me take care of this farm.”

Welcome home.

I snorted. “Can’t imagine why I’d want to leave.”

Tidus clapped a hand on Varius’s shoulder. “You handle this, preacher man. Gonna need an exorcism to get him to see the light.”

I swore. “Oh, that’s great. You crawled out of the gutter to judge me this morning?”

Varius sighed. “This is supposed to be an intervention, Marius. Generally, we don’t insult one another.”

Quint shrugged. “The insults are the only reason I’m here.”

“An intervention?” I frowned. “For what?”

“You’re planning on leaving,” Julian said. “And not for the right reasons.”

Was he joking? “Now you think it’s unreasonable that I want to leave this fucking farm? Where the hell were you fifteen years ago when I joined the Navy?”

Varius never got angry. Would’ve liked him more if he cracked once in a while. “You left in the middle of the night. Ran away. Didn’t even tell us you were enlisting.”

“We’re all men here,” I said. “What did you need? A hug and kiss?”

“A goodbye’s not that unreasonable when someone is trying to die.” Julian had a bad habit of thinking the shit he said was real prophetic. “Guess what? You almost did. And you probably still regret it.”

“Regret what?”

Varius answered for him. “Living.”

My brother was so concerned for everybody else’s soul that he lost grip on reality. “Fuck off.”

“You never thought you were gonna come back,” Varius said.

Quint and Tidus quieted. Julian agreed with Varius, but even he didn’t have the balls to say it.

I kept my voice even. “Is that what this is about? Are you all pissed I ran off to join the Navy? I knew it was a dangerous job. I knew that becoming a SEAL would mean putting my life on the line. I did it anyway.”

“Isn’t that convenient?” Tidus asked.

I’d made it thirty-three years before I’d learned what my brothers actually thought of me. “You’re saying I wanted to die?”

Varius met my gaze. “You tell us.”

Christ. “Quit the bullshit. You gave up the right to those sanctimonious questions when you pitched your holy book, preacher.”

“Doesn’t make the teachings any less important.”

“You’re gonna lecture me on trying to stay alive? You’re gonna look me dead in the eye and rant about the value of life? Christ, V. I was the one getting calls half a world away about you.” I pointed at Julian. “Did you tell him, Jules? Did you tell him how you thought you’d walk down to the basement one day and find him hanging from his own belt?”

Varius didn’t deny it. “Then you know what I’m saying is true.”

The honesty stunned me, but I didn’t let it show. Just scoffed. Pretended that it didn’t matter. That it didn’t bother me.

Like always.

Varius could comfort us or scare the shit out of us with the same breath. How the hell did he stay so fucking calm?

“I shared that pain, dealt with the same problems,” Varius said. “But I didn’t go to the Navy to meet my end. Hell found me. The day that tornado swept through…” He paused. “When it ripped through the church? I wished I’d met my end right then and there. I felt the same way you did. It’s self-destruction, Marius.”

I shrugged. “And what am I destroying? What life do I have? What job? What fucking purpose? If you can answer that, I’ll sit down with you and read that whole goddamned book with you, preacher. But you know the truth. I’d be better off a bloodstain the desert than taking another breath of air. There’s nothing for me for me here.”

Quint tended to be optimistic. Inherited it from Mom. “You’ve got a family here, jackass.”

“Because we’re such a big happy family, aren’t we?” I gestured towards Julian. “How’s the farm coming? The crops? The animals?”

Julian never took any bullshit from me. “It’d be a lot easier if I had some fucking help.”

“You’ve got a lot of family, apparently.”

Julian frowned. “I got so little help from this family I had to go make my own. It’d be nice to have a plan for this place before my child is born. Be even nicer to know I could rely on someone else around here once the next generation of Paynes hits the farm.”

Yeah.

His child.

A new generation.

Julian had been first, but he wouldn’t be the last. It was a goddamned miracle Tidus hadn’t knocked up a girl yet. And Quint had always talked about a big family. Cassi was already making doe eyes at Rem even though she spent every hour of the day helping him with his nieces.

Everyone would be having kids soon. A big fucking happy family.

Except for me.

It wasn’t fucking fair. The world had already taken my leg and career. What had I done so wrong in my life that I’d been refused that guaranteed aspect of manhood?

And why had I broken Gretchen’s heart by promising her that happiness?

“You know I wasn’t meant to stay on this farm,” I said. “Dad figured that out years ago. This place was yours, Jules. From the beginning. Every last acre, every blade of grass. Dad wanted you to have it, not me.”

Julian poured another shot, passing it my way. “I don’t see Dad around here anymore, do you?”

“Bullshit,” I said. “Everything you’re doing here, everything you’re fixing and renovating and building is to honor his memory.”

Julian heaved a breath. “Maybe it was. Once. But now? I got a baby on the way in a month. And I got a farm full of good soil ready to provide for this family. Screw Dad’s plans for this land. Everything I’m doing now, I do for the family. And you have a place here with us, whether you believe it or not.”

“Doesn’t mean I gotta stay here.”

Quint swore, pushing away from the table. “Christ, man. Do you hate us that much?”

My youngest brother had been a kid when I’d left. Scrawny. A hair over ten years old. He’d been closer to Cassi growing up, since he was about her age. And he’d kept close to Mom, taking it hard when she’d died. But we’d always kept an eye on him, all of us. Especially after he got diagnosed with a diabetes. Type I bullshit. Made his childhood a living hell.

“I don’t hate any of you.” Fucking ridiculous that I even had to say it. “But I gotta start my own life over again—and I gotta do it away from Butterpond. Away from Dad. Away from the expectations.”

Away from her.

“Is that why you broke it off with Gretchen?” Varius asked.

Christ. “You don’t know anything about us.”

Tidus skipped the tumbler and took a swig directly from the whiskey bottle. “Don’t need to know much. The walls ain’t thick around here, Casanova. And she always seemed pretty damn excited to stay the night with you.”

Yeah. I’d made sure of it.

That wound hurt more than the leg. “We had something. It’s over now.”

Julian arched an eyebrow. “You were trying to have a kid.”

News to Quint and Tidus, but Varius wasn’t surprised. Didn’t mean I was ready to explain myself to him. Or that I could explain that pain. That frustration.

That failure.

“It wasn’t for the right reasons,” I said.

Varius sighed. “You were going to have a child to look more approachable for the job, weren’t you? So you could look like a well-adjusted asshole?”

“I’m perfectly adjusted.”

“Like hell you are.”

Wasn’t he the one who’d told me to settle down? Find a girl? Start a family?

Jesus.

“Look, Gretchen and I tried,” I said. “Then we decided it wasn’t worth the hassle.”

Varius frowned. “You’re gonna need more than a baby to prove to anyone that you’ve healed. Keep lying. It won’t fool anyone. I told you months ago—take it easy, rest, figure your life out. And what did you do?”

Julian answered for me. “Tried to knock up the first girl he saw so he could solve the problem the easy way.”

Tidus shrugged. “Sounds like a fun recuperation.”

Varius nodded. “And? How’d it go, Marius? Feel any better? Did you find yourself?”

The asshole knew the answer to that, but I couldn’t hit a man of God, even if he’d turned from that path. I clenched my jaw until I thought it’d shatter my teeth.

“We’re done. Give me my fucking leg. That’s an expensive piece of shit.”

Julian smirked. “You’re not getting the leg back until you see reason. Might mean you never walk again, but we’re okay with that. There’s enough of us here to take care of you. Probably the way a baby like you needs to be treated.”

“Fuck off.”

“Not anymore.” His tone shifted. Serious. Dire. “We’re a goddamned family, and it’s time we start acting like one. You’ve got a sister out there who’s terrified you’re gonna hurt yourself. You have four brothers equally frustrated that we gotta sit here and steal your fucking limbs to get you to talk to us. We aren’t putting up with this bullshit anymore.”

Varius agreed. “And now you’re pushing away the only person who gave you a reason to live.”

My smile was cold. “I’m not taking relationship advice from you. When was the last time you got laid, preacher?”

Varius shrugged. “I have no complaints.”

I pointed at Julian. “And you. You hate-fucked a girl, knocked her up, now you think you understand relationships?”

“You’re gonna tell us you don’t care about Gretchen?” Julian asked.

“It’s not about caring for her.”

“Do you love her?”

“Fuck off.”

Quint laughed. “I think he’s got a crush on her.”

Julian agreed. “Got more than a crush. He’s head-over-fucking-heels. And he should be. He’s balls deep in her most nights, trying real hard for a kid he suddenly doesn’t want.”

I pitched my chair across the room

It shut them up.

“Don’t you dare talk about Gretchen like that,” I said.

Julian smiled. “There it is. You can act all tough, Marius, but you ain’t hiding shit from us. Why did you break it off?”

And what point was there in lying?

They wanted to get all touchy-feely? They wanted to finally act like a family?

Then they could deal with the impossible situation.

“What would I have done with her?” I asked. “Knocked her up? Moved her ass to DC so she could get harassed by a bunch of pretentious, elitist fucks who don’t give a shit about the men they sent overseas? They made money off of blood, and they expected me to organize the sacrifices. Would have killed me. Would’ve ruined her.” I held my arms out. “Look at me. One leg. God only knows what else the explosion wrecked. There’s a shit ton wrong with me I’m not ready to admit, but in a couple years? She’ll have to deal with that shit. Why would I put her through that? Through any of this? I can’t offer her a good life. I can’t even…” I wouldn’t say it. Not yet. “I’m not good enough for her. I can’t give her what she deserves. All I’m doing is corrupting her.”

“Are you corrupting her…or is she softening you?” Varius asked. “She’s in love with you, man. Are you too stupid to realize it?”

“Why do you think I broke it off?” My voice cracked.

“Don’t you love her?”

“I’m not going to ruin her.”

“No,” Varius said. “You don’t want her to heal you.”

These assholes thought they knew everything.

They didn’t have a fucking clue.

Had no idea what I’d endured. What I’d lost.

What I’d never have.

“I got news for you,” I said. “I am healed. This is me. This is what’s left.”

“Then you are a goddamned pathetic man.” Julian frowned. “Especially when you know it’s not true.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know who you want me to be, but nothing is ever going to change.”

Varius sighed. “Not if you don’t try. Not if you don’t trust her. Not if you don’t give her a chance.”

“So I can destroy her?”

“So she can save you,” he said. “You’ve gotta forgive yourself for what happened. Heal. Realize that no matter what you wanted, what you had planned, Gretchen could’ve offered you a better life.”

Julian agreed. “And a kid? She wanted to give you a family? Fuck, why are you being so stubborn? Why not accept that gift?”

I kicked Quint away from the table and sunk into his chair.

Guilt hurt more than an amputation.

That was the question I’ve been asking myself all goddamned day.

Why not try? Why not just say the words?

Why not accept the consequences and hope for perfection?

“And what if I’m not a good enough man for her?” I asked. “What if I can’t give her everything she wants? What if there is something wrong with me?”

Varius didn’t seem the least bit concerned. Almost relieved me. “Then you let her help you. You let us help you. There’s a tremendous amount of good in you, Marius. You don’t need a baby to prove it. She already knows.”

Julian clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Call her. Don’t be an idiot. You can’t do this alone.”

“Yes, I can.”

My brother nodded. “Okay. Maybe you can do it alone. But why…when you could have us?”

And why would I ever want to be alone…

When I could have her?