Page 2 of Echoes in the Storm

He hangs in the entrance hall. “As soon as we can agree on a realtor.”

“No.” I drop to the edge of the armchair, bracing myself with both hands on the cushion. “You’ve got to give me longer.”

“Why, Cam?” He ventures as far as the open doorway, ever reluctant to get too close to me. “You’ve had three years to get what you need out of being here. Staying in the house won’t change anything.”

“Exactly,” I whisper.

I never stayed in the hope it would settle the past, or that the memories the house held could ever ease the pain. I didn’t stay to heal. I stayed to keep the wound open and festering, to never forget.

I chose to remain in the home we shared so I would be reminded every day of what I did and why I don’t deserve to ever have that kind of love again.

“You need to move on,” Jared murmurs as he retraces his steps toward the door. “It’s not healthy, Cam.”

“I know.”

He twists the handle and opens the front door a fraction, resting his shoulder against the edge as he drives the nail home a little harder. “You need to own up to what you did.”

Duke

“Fuck this.” With the lid of the car boot propped on my shoulder, I shove the trash in the back out of the way and throw what’s left of the driveshaft inside. Why the hell I even agreed to do this for my brother, I don’t know.

“Come on, man. It’s only a day’s drive.”

Should have told the fuckhead that if he wanted the car enough, he could have called in to work sick to collect it himself. But no, instead, here I am, big brother, picking up Cody’s latest piece-of-shit project that’s only going to clutter Mum’s backyard some more.

The boot of the HQ Holden slams shut as I let it go, and then round the vehicle to the open driver’s door. The shudder started not long after I picked the vehicle up, and then evened out when I hit the open road. I should have known better than to think the car could hold up until I got back, but nope—stubborn old me pushed on in the hope I’d be back in familiar territory before the sun had a chance to rise on a new day.

Day’s drive, my arse.

The suspension groans as I drop heavily into the driver’s seat and fish around on the floor for where my phone ended up after it slid off the dash. If the sudden bang and grind wasn’t enough to put the shits up me, then the way the fucking car lurched as it lost power was more than enough to send my heart into overdrive. I’ve had cars break down on me plenty in the past, but I’ve never been one for surprises—especially not since I got home from my last tour of duty.

My fingers close around the familiar hard case of my phone, and I bring it out from where it’s caught under the front edge of the bench seat. The changing hues of the sky tell me I have an hour at most left to figure out what the fuck to do with the immobile vehicle before it gets dark. I don’t even know exactly how far I am from the next town; I didn’t pay a hell of a lot of attention to the last green road sign I shot past. All I know is that I’m still far enough away from civilisation that the driveways are a kilometre apart and the letterboxes are at the required height for rural post.

I swipe through to Cody’s number and tap on the entry to dial. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t answer. Which leads me to Plan B: messaging the idiot a picture of the drive shaft in the boot of the car.

“The guy only wants three grand for it—it’s a steal,”he’d said.

First reason people sell shit cheap: they don’t have the time or cash to fix the issues themselves. Nothing’s a bargain, not when it comes to cars. You think he’d know that by now, but no. Not my gullible brother.

He flicks a reply through as I drop back into the driver’s seat. Probably still at work if he can’t answer my goddamn call, yet he can find the time to message.Typical.

Spare parts?

I drag my hand over my face with a groan, and then tap out a reply.

Yeah, be handy if he gave me some. It’syourfucking drive shaft, dickhead.

My phone vibrates as a call from his work number comes through.

“Shit, Duke. What the fuck happened?”

“Your excellent buying skills happened, that’s what.” I sigh out my nose. “Probably had a dodgy universal. You got roadside assistance?”

He chuckles with a snort. “Nah.”

Great.“Tell me what the fuck I’m supposed to do with a car that won’t drive anywhere, smart arse.”

“Get it towed?”