The Greyhound ground to a halt and the bus driver’s voice crackled over the speaker, announcing the stop. Greenridge. Jase was dozing and came to alertness slowly at first—then more quickly when he realized Colton no longer filled the seat beside him. One by one, the few people old-school enough, or broke enough, to still take a bus in this day and age filed off—but still no sign of Colton. Maybe he was in the john?
Jase unfolded his cramped limbs and lifted out of his seat, ducking his head to keep from knocking it on the overhead bins. A low voice purred behind him, “Offer still stands.”
Rats. Becca. Still on the bus. He’d thought he was free and clear. He turned in the narrow aisle but didn’t have to answer. Colton’s grinning face appeared over Becca’s shoulder, revealing where he’d disappeared to, though Jase should’ve known.
Colton spoke for Jase. “You’re wasting your breath, sweetheart. Jase here is all work, no play.”
Jase gave an apologetic one-shouldered shrug and didn’t disagree.
The diamond Monroe stud above the corner of Becca’s heart-shaped mouth flashed in the dim overhead lights as she smiled. It was pretty if piercings were your thing, but they weren’t his. Too impractical. Snagged on stuff. Ink was better. “If you change your mind, remember I put my number in your phone.”
“Thanks.” Jase smiled amiably, but thought, what kind of whack job grabs a random guy’s phone and adds her name to his contacts? Ah, well, it took all sorts to make the world go around. Friendly Becca had boarded a few towns back and struck up conversation at a diner during a layover between bus transfers. She was fine but liked to party in ways he didn’t. Colton, of course, had no such reservations.
Becca smoothed her short purple hair, waggled her fingers in farewell, then squeezed past him and swayed down the rubber-matted aisle, Colton stumbling behind her. Apparently, the party had already started.
Colton paused long enough to say, “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow—meet you there, I mean.”
Jase grimaced. All he needed was for Colton to show up for their first day of work hungover or worse, making them both look bad. Not a lot he could do about it though. His foster brother did what he wanted and only what he wanted and always had. Jase didn’t fault him for it, but it wasn’t how he was wired, no matter how often he wished it was.
He pulled his sweatshirt’s hood up over his head, hefted his backpack, which carried the full sum and total of his earthly belongings, including his steel-toed boots and climbers laced to one strap, then followed Colton and Becca’s lead, hunching his shoulders to avoid hitting his head on the bus ceiling. When he stepped down onto the gravel shoulder, only a few of the other freshly debarked passengers openly stared, but all gave him a wide berth. It was the one perk of being freakishly large; strangers tended to be wary and steered clear. His shaved head, dark clothing, and heavy boots probably added to people’s misconceptions, but he didn’t cultivate an intimidating look on purpose. He was just practical. Long hair was hard to keep clean when you were on the road, and black clothes didn’t show dirt.
Becca and Colton climbed into a jacked up truck sporting lots of chrome and a light bar that could probably be seen from Mars. The instant the passenger door slammed shut, the vehicle roared off in a belch of diesel fumes. Jase watched as one-by-one, other passengers disappeared into waiting vehicles—then surveyed his surroundings.
The stop was only saved from pitch-blackness by the glow of the strip lighting along the bus’s side and a neon sign beaming “C-FFEE” from across the street.
Greenridge was new to Jase—well, new to both him and Colton, actually, but Colton hadn’t discovered it, hadn’t chosen it. He was just broke and decided, for practical reasons, to tag along when Jase came across the job listing online. It was more than that for Jase. It was an active decision. He was tired of city life and the constant partying Colton could never get enough of, and he liked small towns and had always wanted to explore the northwest. Admittedly though, this small and this far north might prove a bit much. The place seemed to have come together by accident, building up bit by bit alongside the highway and railway track that ran parallel to it.
Jase wondered if the town had once had a bus depot that closed down, a sign of changing times, or if Greenridge was so small it had never had an official one. Either way, being let off on the side of the highway in the middle of the night didn’t do much to create a feeling of welcome.
“You’re not here to be welcomed,” he scoffed under his breath, since there was hardly anyone left to hear him. “You’re here to make bank and take care of your responsibilities.”
Tonight, however, alone in the dropping temperature, watching stranger after stranger take off with smiling friends and loved ones, Jase didn’t feel as pragmatic as he tried to convince himself he was. He and Colton were only twenty-four, but he, at least, was starting to feel old—or like their lifestyle was.
Jase frowned. What was this mess in his head? He loved his nomadic life. Or found it the most comfortable way to live, anyway. If you’re not attached to anything, you can’t lose it and it can’t be taken away. He frowned deeper still.
He wasn’t fooled by all the heartwarming greetings and tearful hugs of hello he’d just witnessed. For every happy reunion, somewhere nearby there was a huge fight brewing and a quick departure in the wings. For every mom or dad coming “home,” there was another one leaving never to be seen again. And for every smiling lover, someone else was screaming and throwing things.
There were only two people left waiting now, a woman about his age with a small girl with pretty black braids. She reminded him so much of a picture he had of Emily from a few years back that he sucked in a breath. Did Emily still wear her hair like that or was it cut short or something? Familiar sadness and shame gut-punched him. What kind of loser didn’t know that about his own kid? A beige Honda pulled up, slammed to a stop, and a man rushed out. “I’m so sorry I’m late, you guys.”
“Daddy!” The little girl leaped into his arms. “I missed you!”
The adults laughed and as the guy hugged his daughter, the woman stepped into his embrace too.
The little scene was fresh salt in an old wound, reminding Jase that recounting all the miseries some folks faced was no true consolation. Of course, there were genuinely happy reunions and truly close-knit families. What would it be like to have a home to come back to? To have people who missed you when you went away, who celebrated when you returned? Jase had no idea. Never had.
As if shoved into motion by his thoughts, the bus groaned and grumbled its way back onto the road again, swinging wide into the empty lane and rolling on into the night. Jase watched the hostile red-rimmed eyes of its taillights until they disappeared. Then he checked both ways and crossed the highway. Small as it was, at least Greenridge had a 24-hour coffee shop.
As he walked, Jase patted the chest pocket of the jean jacket he wore over his hoodie, feeling for the reassuring fold of paper on the inside pocket. He’d read the ad so many times, he had it memorized. River’s Sigh B & B—a pretty name to go with what would hopefully prove to be a nice place to bunk down for a while. And he’d already touched base. They were expecting him and Colton. And sure, it had been a while since either of them had fallen a tree—but it was a bed and breakfast. How wild of terrain could it be? The owners were looking for glorified landscapers and with his and Colton’s letters of reference, they were in. He just hoped Colton would control his wild side and not ruin this opportunity for them.