Page 75 of Pucked Together

In less than a minute, I'm at my new house. I make sure to park in the garage in case any of the guys recognize my car.

I take a deep breath before letting myself out and pushing open the interior garage door to my house. It's still nearly empty. It’s the neighborhood's newest build, having just been completed last week. There's a pool and a casita. And it's just down the road from Keelan's place.

"I was wondering if they were going to let you go," a voice comes from the kitchen.

I round the corner to see my brother leaning over the island as he sets down the book he is reading.

"They'll get used to it," I drop my keys onto the counter and walk up to him, slapping him on the back in greeting. "Did'ya pick a room yet?"

My brother's giant build swivels on the bar stool he's on.

"You really couldn't just put me up in a one-bedroom apartment?" He chuckles. "Such a rich, boujee asshole you've become."

"You've been locked up for nearly a decade, and you're telling me you'd prefer a room with a single bed as your home?"

I guess one gets accustomed to small spaces when it's all you know for so long. Much like I've gotten used to roommates, having lived with Keelan and his circus the last few weeks.

In the few weeks since Izzy's been in the hospital, my brother was finally approved to be released early for good behavior. Now, he's readjusting to life outside of prison. Very slowly adjusting.

He goes over to the fridge and eyes the fruits and veggies I've stocked there with a shake of his head.

"What do you think your fancy neighbors will think when they find out they have a convict living next door?" A smile tugs his lips as he looks back at me.

"Who says they need to know? Besides, you're harmless," I smile. "I'm the one they need to worry about."

Taking care of my brother is the least I can do for the price he's paid for me for all those years. I promised him I'd make it right—promised him that when he got out, I'd be there for him.

And as irritated as I am with Izzy's current predicament, I guess I should be grateful that it's bought me some time with my older brother.

"What are you going to tell your girl?" Rowan asks, selecting an apple and shutting the fridge. Leaning against it, he crosses his arms and takes a bite, assessing me.

"I don't know, Row. I guess if she ever remembers what we are to each other, I'll want to be honest with her. Let her know the truth."

"Do you trust her?" he asks.

The question makes me stop breathing for a second. I think about those quiet moments when we shared a space. The way she was so open and vulnerable. The way her eyes seemed to pierce right through me to find their way into my very soul.

What she said to me that drunken night.

"You're not an ass. You're just misunderstood."

Izzy saw me—the way no one else could.

"I trust her. I just don't think she trusts me."

He pushes himself off the fridge and walks over to the back door. "Sounds like you got some work to do then."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," he places a dramatic hand over his chest. "I thought my brother was a badass that wins no matter what. I guess I must've had you confused for someone who actually gives a fuck. My bad."

He throws the sliding doors aside and disappears into the backyard. I watch him walk up to the casita, and he waves back at me before opening the door and shutting it behind him.

I guess he's picked his room after all.

So now I have this giant house. All to myself. Nice one, bro. Real nice.

But I think about his words. And Rowan is right. I've never been one to give up. And if Izzy can't remember me because of her injuries. Then, I'd just need to find another way to get back into her heart.