Taking Charge (Meet the McIntyres Book 1) Read online

  “You’re very welcome, Payton,” Derek replied politely. He really was a gentleman in every sense of the word. Mia was one lucky bitch.

  “Payton, go get your sexy ass in that bed and get some sleep. Everything will look better in a couple of hours.” Mia was a frigging ball of dynamite. One thing was for certain, Derek was in for an interesting life. I couldn’t imagine there would ever be a dull moment in their marriage.

  “Promise?” I asked wearily.

  “Promise.” With Mia’s words hanging over me, I did as she asked and fled down the hallway towards the bathroom. After taking care of business and brushing my teeth, I felt instantly better. Renewed. Refreshed. Minty fresh, in fact. Quickly I stripped off Derek’s flour-covered clothes and slipped into the soft sheets in nothing but my panties. Although it was awkward being almost naked in someone else’s house, I was too tired to care. The moment my head hit the pillow, I was out.

  The soft, constant sound of rain hitting the tin roof dragged me from my comfortable slumber. Stretching my arms high above my head, I blinked a few times, trying to convince my eyes to focus. The first thing I noticed was I wasn’t in my apartment. Everything was too coordinated to be mine. It took longer than it should have for the memories to come back and everything to make sense again. The fire. The smoke. Derek. Mia.

  “Damn it!”

  Sitting up, the sheet fell to my waist and my heavy boobs fell out, revealing all to the cool air. Tugging at the covers, I pulled them up to my chin and took a few deep breaths. Beyond the door I could hear chatter and I wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. Pretend I’d never woken. Pretend the world wasn’t out there. At least for another couple of hours. But I needed to know. What was going on? How bad was the fire’s destruction? When could I get back to work? I couldn’t afford to be napping and sitting on my fat ass. I needed to be working. Be building my business. Making the mortgage payments.

  Flopping back against the cloud-like mattress, I yanked the pillow over my head and hid from everything. Even the damn pillow smelt like heaven. A combination of lemon and clean. Groaning, I threw back the covers and kicked my legs wildly. I was so glad I was alone right now. If anybody saw me acting like a four-year-old who’d just been denied lollies before dinner I think I’d spontaneously combust with humiliation. The moment my feet hit the floor, the world around me spun. Grabbing my head in my hands, the urge to purge was almost too much. I didn’t move. Not a muscle. I barely breathed. I didn’t want anything to move that could possibly make it worse. Squeezing my eyes closed, I forced myself to breathe through it.

  When the room slowed to a gentle whirl, I grabbed Derek’s flour-coated clothes and tugged them back on. After attempting to tame my wild curls with my fingers, I cracked open the door and held onto the door frame. I could hear the voices echoing down the hallway and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out Josie was here. It wasn’t just her high-pitched cackle, but her adorable daughter Matilda’s ramblings that reached my ears.

  “Here she is!” Josie exclaimed way too excitedly for me to handle right now.

  “Hi,” I grumbled in reply, my voice scratchy and barely recognisable even to me.

  “There’s some salad on the bench if you want some,” Mia invited.

  Resisting the urge to scrunch my face up in disgust, instead I stumbled my way into the kitchen. After filling a bowl with an extra thick swirl of the thick, creamy ranch dressing, I grabbed a glass of water and headed back to where the women sat gossiping. The second I stepped into the room though, their voices fell silent. I hated people judging me. I did a good enough job of judging myself, I didn’t need someone doing it for me. And from the deafening silence that hung over the room like a bad smell, I knew I was the topic of discussion.

  “What?” I snapped irritably.

  I shouldn’t have. I knew I was being a bitch, but I couldn’t stop myself. I had excuses coming out of my ass, none of them acceptable though. Sure, I was tired, wearing someone else’s clothes, freaking out about my bakery and my life, however that didn’t give me the right to be nasty. Not to the few people in my life who seemed to genuinely give a shit. Maybe that right there was my problem. After being screwed over so many times, I didn’t recognise genuine concern when it was in front of me.

  “Nothing,” Josie replied as she scooped her daughter into her lap and held tight.

  My stomach clenched at the sight. I felt worse than ever. Surely Josie didn’t think I’d ever doing anything to hurt Matilda. I may have been a bitch, but I wasn’t that bad.

  “We were just talking about the fire. The whole town’s going crazy with it.”

  “Why?”

  Why the hell would the whole town be put out because of my tiny little bakery? It was barely breaking even, so I knew they weren’t worried about the lack of fresh bread and sweet treats while the doors remained closed.

  “Why what?”

  “Why does the town care? It’s only me.”

  “Oh, you did not just say that, Payton.”

  “Say what?” Fuck me, these girls were hard to keep up with. Some days I really did believe I needed a dictionary to understand what the hell they were babbling about. Hanging out with Mia and Josie was nothing if not educational.

  “Payton, I’m only going to say this once, so listen carefully. Pull your pretty little head out of your ass. You’re not in the city anymore. Out here, everyone cares. About everyone’s everything. Even when you don’t want them to. They’re all invested somehow. So your little bakery, as you call it, it’s a place in this town. Yep, you bake the bread and the meat pies, but it’s also part of the town. And like it or not, so are you. People do care.”

  “Yeah, what Josie said,” Mia agreed before adding a dig of her own. “Besides, nothing much happens around here and this is exiting news.”

  “So I’m news?”

  I didn’t want to be news. I wanted to be anything other than news. Not only were people judging me, but they were talking about me. I couldn’t hide from this. I wanted to. I really did, but I couldn’t. Damn it!

  “Yeah, Payton, you are. Sorry.” Mia confirmed with a shrug.

  Although she was probably right and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it, I knew myself well enough to know I wouldn’t get used to it.

  Sighing, I closed my eyes as I stuffed a forkful of lettuce in my mouth. It tasted healthy and full of nothingness. I was craving thick cut, beer battered potato chips smothered in rich gravy. I heard the groan escape my lips before I knew it was coming. At least no one knew the thoughts in my head which caused it.

  “Have you heard from Derek at all, Mia?” I wanted to know what was going on and when I could go home.

  Mia and Josie exchanged nervous glances and I knew whatever came next wasn’t good.

  Summoning every bit of courage and stubbornness I possessed, I forced myself to ask, not one hundred percent convinced I actually wanted to know the answer. “So, how bad is it?”

  The need to piss woke me. After finding my feet, I shuffled naked to the bathroom and took care of business. Grabbing my toothbrush, I smothered it in thick green toothpaste before stuffing it in my mouth and stepping into the shower. It was the world’s most horrible shower. I had no idea how the fuck Connor lived with this shit. Yep sure, living out here gave him a break from Dad, but I doubted even that was enough of a reason to deal with this bullshit water pressure trickling down on your head in the smallest shower I’d ever seen. Just lifting my arm to scrub my teeth caused me to bash the corner of my elbow on the white tiled wall.

  As quick as I could I finished up and got out. I had no idea what time it was, but I knew I had shit to do today. Shit I wasn’t looking forward to. Shit I’d do anything to avoid. There was no point, though. I’d come home to help out, and that meant first things first. I needed to talk to Dad.

  Yanking some clothes from my bag, I dressed quickly before stuffing my feet in my boots. My stomach growled, reminding me that I probably shoul
d eat. Hopefully there’d be food in the house. I didn’t have high hopes, based on what I’d seen, but still I could dream. Stepping out into the fresh air, everything was coated with a thin layer of water. Above me, angry clouds rolled through the sky, the occasional rumble of thunder echoing across the wide open space. I wasn’t used to this. I barely even remembered it. Suddenly it felt like it had been forever since I’d been home. Maybe too long.

  Not bothered about getting wet, I found myself dragging my feet as I skipped over puddles on my way to the main house. Now, in the light of day and finally alone, I had a real chance to look around. It was as depressing as hell. I couldn’t believe this was the same place I’d grown up. The only place in the world that allowed me to be who I really was. Sure, I’d moved to Sydney and done the school thing. I’d even worked as a barista in one of those trendy little café’s that served tiny pink macaroons and overpriced cupcakes. I could make one hell of a large strong skim cappuccino, no chocolate, extra foam, extra hot, complete with a pretty little picture or cute greeting etched into the milky froth. You have no idea how many men ordered that shit each day. It was borderline ridiculous. Pouring their fancy ass coffees and withholding the snarky comments paid for my adventures.

  Now I was back. Back to the one place I promised myself I’d never return to. The one place I’d been avoiding, if I was honest. Coming home meant I had to give up my selfish lifestyle and put the family first. Not something I hated or wouldn’t do, I just wasn’t sure I was ready. Now I was here though, it was another story. Now I knew I definitely wasn’t ready, but they needed me. Obviously. Time to man up and figure this shit out. Starting with Dad.

  Walking down the driveway, I rounded the corner and found myself back on the front step. For some reason today the house looked even worse. I wasn’t sure how that was possible, but the whole place looked dark, dingy and forgotten. It was like a creepy abandoned house, covered in dust and dirt and cobwebs. God knows how many massive spiders had moved in while I’d been gone, but I was willing to bet they weren’t the only wildlife inhabiting my childhood home.

  I knew if I let myself, I’d drag this out all day. Around here avoidance had always been simple. There were just so many places to hide. And that was even before we’d gotten licences and cars. Wiping my clammy hands on my jeans, I dragged my hand through my hair, pushing away the wet, wild strands sticking to my face. There was never going to be a good time to push open the screen door and step inside. Might as well be now.

  Stealing one last lungful of the fresh air, I didn’t even bother kicking off my boots as I stepped through the creaking door. Boots inside had always been a huge no no, but Mum wasn’t here anymore, yet another thing I had to get to the bottom of, so I didn’t bother.

  “Beau?” I heard Connor call out.

  “Yeah,” I replied despondently. I wasn’t paying him any attention. My eyes were too busy darting around the room, trying to understand the scene before me. It was a fucking time capsule. Like all life had stopped in one moment and it was frozen. I recalled seeing something similar at school when we’d studied Pompeii. A volcano swept through the town, covering everything in its path in ash and lava, effectively freezing it in time. That was what the lounge room was like. The old cuckoo clock on the wall didn’t tick, something that had been so steady and reassuring for all those years. The dining table was covered in a thick blue checked table cloth, and even from here I could see the covering of crumbs and stains. Heading towards the kitchen, where I could hear someone—I assumed Connor—shuffling about, I cringed at the sound the carpet made beneath my boots. Carpet shouldn’t crack and crunch as you step on it. Looking down, I could see why it did. Obviously I wasn’t the only one who seemed to have ignored the no boots in the house rule.

  “What happened?” I asked as I rounded the corner and came face to face with my brother.

  His hands were buried beneath the bubbles in the sink as he tried to clean up the kitchen. He was only half looking at me, not quite meeting my eye. Truthfully it was pissing me off. Or maybe it was just adding to my frustration.

  When Connor didn’t answer my question, I asked again. Only this time louder. “What the fuck, Connor?”

  “Keep your voice down,” he hissed at me, looking at me for the first time.

  I wish he hadn’t.

  I wished he’d kept his head down and his eyes to himself.

  We both knew the moment realisation sunk in. I like to think I’m not that slow, but right now every thought in my head seemed to be taking longer than it should. Connor was sporting a fresh black eye and a split lip. It didn’t take a genius to work out who they were courtesy of. I felt the rage bubble in my stomach as my hands clenched into fists at my sides. My jaw popped under the strain as I tried to contain the disgust and anger consuming my body. This shit had to stop, and it had to stop now.

  “What the fuck, Connor?”

  I dropped into a chair at the bench, my head falling in my hands. Even though I was still extremely pissed at everything right now, that wouldn’t help Connor. It wouldn’t help Dad, although I wasn’t sure I gave a shit about him right now, and it wouldn’t help me.

  “He didn’t mean it. He was just—”

  “Just what, Connor? Just an asshole? Just drunk? Just what? Tell me. Please. Tell me what possible excuse he can have for leaving your face looking like that?”

  “I…I…can’t.”

  Connor’s banged up face fell and I felt like shit. My intention had never been to hurt Connor. Fuck! Just looking at him so defeated and deflated was enough torment for anyone. I wanted to ask so many things, I just didn’t have the words.

  “Just let it go, Beau. Let it go.”

  “Are you fucking shitting me right now?”

  “No, I’m not. Nothing good can come of bringing it up. He didn’t mean it. He was just drunk…”

  “That’s no excuse!” My angry voice boomed through the silent house as Connor wiped his hands on the tea towel before tossing it on the bench. He looked like shit and it wasn’t just the split lip and swollen eye. He looked exhausted, but it was more than that. He was defeated. I didn’t know how long shit had been this bad around here, but from the weary way Connor moved about and dismissed things, things the Connor I remembered would never let slide, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out it had been going on way too long.

  “Look, I’ve got stuff to do. Can we just deal with this later?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek in an attempt to hold back the long tirade on the tip of my tongue. Instead I offered him a weak smile and a nod. I watched as he headed out the door, pausing briefly to pull on his boots before disappearing off the veranda and into the yard. I know I should have followed him. Given him a hand doing whatever it was he was running away to do. I should have apologised. Made him talk to me. I just didn’t have it in me.

  Standing alone in the only home I’d ever know, I moved around quietly, not knowing when or where Dad was. I’m sure the bastard would show his face sooner or later. When my stomach growled again, I shuffled towards the fridge and pulled it open. It was more pathetic than I could have imagined. A half empty tub of butter, some mouldy cheese, a jar of chutney, and a plastic jug of water.

  “What the fuck?”

  I was losing it. Hell, it was already long gone. The moment I saw my brother’s battered and bruised face, I’d lost it. He didn’t deserve that shit. No one did. But definitely not Connor.

  I couldn’t help but think of the others. Staring at the dirty kitchen window, I said a silent prayer that Holly wasn’t here. I hadn’t heard from her in a while and knew I should check in on her. The biggest problem I had was finding something to say to her. Holly was the baby of our family and the only girl. What the hell did I know about sixteen-year-old girls? Fuck, when I was sixteen I didn’t know a thing about them other than the fact they were emotionally retarded. As I got older I discovered it wasn’t just sixteen-year-olds that possessed that flaw. It was women in gener
al. They were a weird species. I didn’t know anyone alive who understood what the hell went through their minds most of the time. All I knew was she was at some fancy ass boarding school, she loved nails and makeup, spent money like it grew on trees, and had the four of us, me included, wrapped around her little finger. I felt sorry for the poor sap who ended up married to her. The moment he slipped on that diamond ring, he might as well hand over his balls in a little velvet bag, because there was no way he’d ever have a chance to use them again. Holly would control his world. And as her brother, I was secretly glad about that. She wasn’t going to take shit from anyone.

  Then there was Gage and Ryan. Last I heard, Gage was going great and almost finished his veterinary degree and had already landed a kick ass job at the research station only twenty minutes from home. Now, being back here, I wasn’t sure if it was the best idea for him to come home again, but when I’d spoken to him a few weeks back, he was excited by the job and the opportunities it would give him. I wouldn’t be the asshole to stand in the way of that. And Ryan, well I needed to talk to Connor about that one. He hadn’t returned any of my calls over the last couple of months, and when he eventually sent a text I was lucky if it was more than three words. There was something going on there, something I didn’t understand, but I needed to. He was supposed to be living here on the property, but in the two days I’d been here I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him.

  Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, I filled it with water straight from the faucet and choked it down. I’d forgotten about the god awful bore water out here. Not sure how I could have ever forgotten that one. It tasted like salt and dirt. Digging my phone from my back pocket, I started making a shopping list in my notes. Water was definitely at the top of that list.

  “What’s with all the fucking noise?” Dad asked as he wobbled his way around the corner into the kitchen.

  In the mid-morning sun I got the first real good look at my old man. Fuck me, did he look old. His skin was that sickly grey colour. The colour you see in all those medical shows on the patients who are dying. I didn’t like it. Not one bit. As I stood there and took in the sight before me, my heart broke, and I wasn’t even sure I had one. The slippers on his feet were barely together, littered with holes and scuffed beyond repair. His pyjamas hung off his wiry frame, and Dad had never been wiry. He’d been big and broad and strong as an ox. This man wasn’t my father. He couldn’t be. This guy had no meat on his bones and his once thick, dark hair was now salt and pepper, and had thinned out so much on top you could see his scalp.