Page 13 of The Wreckage of Us

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Page 13 of The Wreckage of Us

“Yeah, but ...” I groaned, knowing I didn’t have a leg to stand on but still wanting a fucking leg to stand on. “Did you know she’s Charlie’s stepdaughter?”

“You think I don’t do my research before hiring hands? Of course I knew that.”

“And you still brought her on?” I asked, flabbergasted. “You know that Charlie is the reason Mom and Dad—”

“Don’t start, boy,” Big Paw sneered, his voice coated in annoyance. He flicked his finger against the bridge of his nose. “I don’t got time for you bringing up this issue. Hazel Stone is working at the ranch, and you will be the one overseeing her work. End of story.”

“But—”

“I said end of story!”

How could he push it away so fast? If it weren’t for Charlie, Mom and Dad would’ve never gotten hooked on meth all those years ago. They wouldn’t have run off in a drug haze, chasing their next high. They would’ve still been the parents I needed in my life.

So fuck Charlie, and fuck everyone who was attached to him. He ruined lives—including mine.

I wished I hadn’t known my parents before the drugs slipped into their lives. I wished I hadn’t seen their good side, but I had for thirteen years of my life. I had a slew of memories in my brain that reminded me of what Mom had been like before meth. I remembered how she’d loved to help Grams garden. I remembered her laugh, her rose-scented perfume, her smile. During the summers, Dad would let me go down to the dump and use the forklift out there to help him move around busted-up automobiles.

The worst part of having parents who developed a drug habit over time was remembering that they hadn’t always been so fucked up. If they had always been tragic people, I would’ve had an easier time when they’d left.

“You should think about letting her go. Or at least having someone else look after her,” I offered. That would’ve made it less annoying for me—if I didn’t have to look after Hazel.

“I can’t let her go. I owe it to someone close to her to give Hazel a shot.”

“Who? Who could you possibly owe?”

His brows knitted, and he avoided my question. “How much are you paying for rent at the property on the ranch?” he asked, his question loaded, and I knew exactly what trap he was setting up.

“Big Paw—”

“Easy question, boy. Now answer it.”

I slumped down in my chair. “Rent-free.”

“I was talking to Tyler down at the marketplace the other day, and he was telling me that ranch house was easily worth over two hundred thousand. He asked me if it was up for sale. I’m debating if I should take him up on that offer.”

“Okay, I get it.”

“I don’t think you do.” He clasped his hands together. “I could be making money on that ranch house, but I don’t because you’re my grandson and I knew you wouldn’t be able to find a nice spot on your own without the help. I lend the barn house to you and your bandmates to rehearse in, even though I could be making a profit from renting it out to others. In a town where so many people are struggling, you’re living like a goddamn king, and you have the nerve to come into my office whining like a baby because you don’t like a girl who works harder than most people? Well, tough cookies. If you want her to have a new trainer, then quit. But Lord knows you’ll be losing everything that comes with your comfortable life.”

I didn’t say another word, because Big Paw was right. I was being a little shit and throwing a fit because I wasn’t getting my way.

“You were given a good shot at life, Ian. A few crappy things happened to you with your parents leaving, but overall, you’ve been gifted with blessings that most people in town would kill for. Don’t let your ego get so big that you don’t think others deserve a shot at that same blessing. Hazel hasn’t done a damn thing to prove herself to be anything like Charlie. She was just dealt a shitty hand. Let her play her cards the best she can, and stop being a whiny little dickhead about it.”

Leave it to Big Paw to help you realize that you and your idiotic opinion were invalid and void.

“On second thought, I have an even better idea,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “That spare room in the ranch house—give it to Hazel.”

I choked on my next breath. “Excuse me?”

“I get the feeling she’s in need of a place to stay.”

“What makes you think that?”

“The fact that I’ve caught her snoozing in that broken-down shed the past few nights. I’ve been sleeping in my pickup truck nearby to make sure nobody bothers her. I know some hoodlums sneak into the ranch when they are bored and cause a ruckus, and I didn’t want them bothering Hazel. I wanted to offer her a place to stay, but I get the feeling she’d be too embarrassed to admit her struggles, so I want you to offer it to her.”

“Psh, yeah, right. She’d never take a handout from me.”

“She would if you offer it up to her in a nice box with a fancy bow on top.”




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