Path of Destruction (Broken Heartland, #2)(5)

And when the person inside, the lifeless body that belongs to someone who once laughed with you, fished with you, pushed you to be a better version of your sorry-ass self, is inside, well it might as well weigh four thousand f*cking pounds.

Cooper tried to focus on keeping the heavy mahogany box above his head, keeping pace with the guys in front of him. But the ground was soft with mud and he was struggling to keep traction. He was thankful for dark sunglasses shading his eyes from view.

He wasn’t so much crying as moisture with a potency of acid had just remained continually present in his eyes since the moment the police had uttered the words that ripped his world into two halves. One light and one dark. Before and after.

The jagged line was made of the words, “We’re sorry. He was already gone when we arrived on the scene.” Millie Mason had collapsed in his arms and Cooper had been so busy keeping her upright, he’d been unable to fall apart himself. The reality of it all still hadn’t really set in.

Carrying the casket, he saw her, saw her long, blond hair moving gently in the breeze. Storm clouds had rolled in over the proceedings, and wasn’t that just kick-you-in-the-f*cking-face appropriate?

Someone had told him that she’d tried to save him. Despite being battered to hell and back herself, she’d lifted his one hundred eighty-five pound body and tried to carry him to the main road. She’d made it halfway and had to lay his body down so she could run after a passing ambulance.

Luckily, one of the paramedics had seen her and they’d stopped. But it was too late.

Late.

Too late.

Everything was too late.

He’d been too late telling her how he felt and missed his chance. He’d told her brother too late. Decided to go with him to get her too late. He’d realized how bad his family’s financial situation was too late.

“Brantley Cooper, wake up! You’re going to be late.”

The female voice startled him, and he sat upright in bed and looked around. He was in the loft of his family’s barn, where he’d been since the storm. His entire body was covered in a thick layer of sweat. His eyes were still wet.

He’s still dead.

His life was still a waking nightmare. And even though the funeral had been over a week ago, his arms still ached from carrying the casket every night while he slept.

“I’m not going,” he grumbled, refusing to open his eyes and see his mother’s reprimanding stare. He could feel her hovering above him.

“You are going,” she insisted. “I need you to take your brothers with you. Your father and I have another meeting with the insurance adjusters today.”

Blessed silence almost allowed him to fall back into the ease of unconsciousness. But then her voice took on the pleading tone he’d never heard from her before.

“Brantley, please. Please help me out here. I need you. This family needs you.”

Another meeting with the insurance adjusters meant another night of his parents being desperate and upset. Not only had the storm taken lives, it had taken livelihoods. The two machine sheds that set on the west side of Cooper Farms had been destroyed, taking over a million dollars’ worth of farm equipment with it. The EF-4 that ripped though the county had managed to annihilate an eighteen-thousand-pound combine and three other tractors and two semi-tractor trailers, leaving shreds of green and white metal strewn across the property. The only piece of equipment that had survived was a rusty, old tractor they only kept around because it had been the first piece of new equipment his grandfather had bought back in the sixties when farming was good.

Not like it was now. The Coopers had been struggling for the past couple of years. They had to jump-start the hunk of junk and use it to clear all the debris from the property. With each and every piece Coop hooked a chain to and dragged to the pile, he thought, Why even bother? Wasn’t going to belong to them for much longer anyway.

“Fine,” Cooper relented. “I’ll take them.” He opened his eyes to see his mother’s eyes resting on him.

She looked as if she’d aged ten years. He knew exactly why too. While she was devastated at the losses the community had suffered, it was the fact that, no matter how many times she and her husband met with insurance adjusters, there was no way they were going to be able to make the missed payments. No way were they going to be able to recover the losses.

All that was left of Cooper Farms was his family, a bottomless pile of debt, and an ancient tractor.



After he’d dropped his younger brothers off at the middle school, he planned to head back to the farm and continue clearing debris and doing what he could. He had no plans of attending a single day of school at that bullshit high school they were supposed to attend now that theirs was destroyed.

His plans dissolved before his very eyes when his cell phone rang and Ella Jane’s number appeared.

“Hey, Ellie May. I’m glad you called. I’ve been—”

“Cooper? Oh thank God.” The voice on the other end wasn’t Ella Jane Mason’s. It was her mom.

“Um, hey, Mrs. Mason. I thought you were EJ.”

“She’s getting ready, Cooper. She’s dressed and she has the keys to his truck and I think she’s going to school. Please tell me you’re going to be there today. I’m so worried about her and I don’t know what to do.”

He cleared his throat and turned his truck down a road he hadn’t planned to take. “She said she was going to school today?”