Leave a Trail (Signal Bend #7)(2)

And then he went off by himself for awhile.

As for good f*cks, he was on that plan, too. But a good high lasted longer.

He put a kind of a smile on his face. “Yeah. That’s a good idea. Thanks.”

For another couple of seconds, Isaac looked at him skeptically, and Badger began to wonder if this was going to be the big talk after all. But then he huffed and rolled his chair back to the kneehole of his desk.

“Okay, little brother. Let’s go drink.”

He f*cking hated being the little brother.



oOo



He woke with a start, drenched in sweat, his heart racing. Weasel, his border collie, was sitting at his side, whining. The horses in their stalls were agitated, too. He must have been yelling in his sleep. Again.

The nightmare broke apart as soon as he had hold of his reality again. He could never remember anything about it except pain and fear, like his heart was being pulled through his ribcage. He rubbed at the spot on the right side of his chest that was still oddly dented from when his ribs had been broken. So strange to touch his own body and only feel it in his hand. It made him feel like he wasn’t quite there.

Weasel, still whining, licked his face.

Badger laughed a little and ruffled the fur over the top of the dog’s head. “I’m okay, buddy. I’m okay.”

He slept in the barn at the B&B, because he couldn’t sleep anywhere else. If he slept at his parents’

house, they’d hear his nightmares. If he slept at the clubhouse, his brothers who lived there would hear him. Only here, on the floor of his office, propped up against a saddle and sleeping on and under horse blankets, were there no ears that would pry.

Nobody knew—his parents thought he was at the clubhouse, and vice versa. Because he was livestock manager, people at the B&B expected him to be at work early, so nobody blinked when his bike or truck was parked outside early, and nobody had seemed to notice that he was parked there late, too.

His heart still racing from the terror of his disappearing dream, Badger got up from the floor and went to his desk. It was an old desk that Lilli had picked up at an estate sale somewhere. Some of the drawers stuck, including the topmost drawer on the left-hand side. But Badger knew the secret to getting it open— and he knew the secret it contained. A small hidden compartment at the back. He opened that now and pulled out a plastic baggy of green pills. Oxy 80s.

Tasha had never given him a dose this high. But nothing else did anything anymore. She had him on Darvocet now, which might as well be aspirin.

This bag had cost him a f*cking fortune, but he didn’t have anything else to spend money on, and he needed to buy in bulk. It wasn’t like he could run down to the street corner dealer.

He took a dose out, crushed it, and sorted the resulting powder into a couple of narrow lines. Snorting was so much better—faster, more intense—than swallowing. Just as he was about to take it in, his personal cell pinged a text. He thought to ignore it, but it was lying screen-up on his desk, and Adrienne’s photo came up on his screen. He hadn’t talked to her in weeks. The last time had been a f*cking disaster.

She’d texted him a few times since, but he had nothing to say. He’d exposed himself far too much the last time, and he wasn’t about to do it again.

He looked over at his phone to read the text.

Check in, it said.

He stared, then set his perma-rolled dollar bill down and picked up his phone to scroll through her messages he hadn’t returned.

Three weeks ago: Been thinking about our talk. I’m worried.

Two weeks ago: I’m here to talk or text or skype. Whenever.

One week ago: Badge? U okay? Talked to S. so I know ur breathing. Didn’t say anything, tho, promise.

Yesterday: U mad?

Five minutes ago: Check in.

Now, as he was reading through: Check in now or I tell Show.

Fuck. One wasted phone call, and she had his balls. He’d f*cked everything up. He couldn’t deal. He couldn’t. His heart was still going from that f*cking nightmare, and now it was tripping over what he’d told Adrienne. If she told Show…that bitch. She’d promised she wouldn’t.

Fucking bitch! Fucking lying bitch!

His head and heart were going to explode both at once. He tossed his phone on the desk and did his lines.

It was the best thing he’d ever felt. Every time, it was the best thing. A roaring rush, everything in his head going full volume all at once, his heart racing even faster, and then, like a switch, it all went away, and he was left with calm and contentment. Numbness moved up from his nose, into his brain, and through his every nerve. The nightmare was gone, the fear was gone, the pain was gone. No anger. No worry. He dropped back in his chair and smiled. Damn, that was good.

Another text pinged—Adrienne again, of course. Badger leaned forward and grabbed his phone.

Last chance. Calling Show right now. Waking him up. CHECK IN.

Smiling, he texted back. Sleeping. Middle of the night u know. Im good. U good?

After a minute, his phone rang—she was calling. He smiled at her picture filling his screen and let it ring.



CHAPTER ONE



Welcome to Signal Bend!



The first time Adrienne passed that sign, it had been a different sign—faded and peeling, offering an anemic welcome. A year or two ago, the town had replaced that old relic, and now people driving into town got a more enthusiastic greeting—in bright colors, with exclamation points, illuminated with spotlights so that its welcome was warm even in darkness. Along the bottom of the pretty, stylized image of a quaint signal house next to a bending railroad, a smiling signalman standing beside it, were several logos: the Signal Bend Chamber of Commerce, the 4H Club, the local Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts, and the Flaming Mane of the Night Horde MC.