Until You (The Redemption, #1)
K. Bromberg
CHAPTER ONE
Crew
Exhaustion mixes with exhilaration as I pull up to the old Victorian house and shift the truck into park. Dust from the unpaved driveway catches up to us, and exaggerated coughing comes from the back seat as its cloud filters in through the open windows.
“If this is the fresh country air you’ve been talking about,” Addy says sarcastically as Paige fakes another dramatic cough while waving the dust out of her face, “then, no thank you.”
I chuckle. My city slickers are in for a rude awakening. All they’ve ever known is the hustle and bustle of Chicago. “It’s just dirt, ladies.”
“Next, you’re going to tell us that dirt builds character,” Paige says with a roll of her eyes.
“Of course, it does.”
I watch through the rearview mirror as they exchange a look that could mean either trouble or acceptance. Who knows with the two of them. But before I have time to think much more, both girls open their respective doors and bound out of the truck. Their whoops of excitement intermingling with their laughter echo through the air as they run to the porch, hands cupped on the windows looking in, and then down the steps and through the grass leading to the unfenced backyard.
I remain in the truck, my hands on the steering wheel, a relieved smile on my lips, the tension of what feels like the last eighteen months slowly draining from my body. Or at least starting to because it’s going to take a lot more than a few minutes to right all the wrongs that have led us to this moment.
The house and the property around it don’t disappoint from my childhood memories. It has gray siding with dark blue shutters and, while its physically small compared to the parcel of land it sits on, its presence is undeniable amidst the field of wildflowers at its right, the outbuildings to the left, and the huge wraparound porch complete with a swing just in front of me.
Home.
Away from the city lights, the traffic, the chaos, and the danger.
That’s what this will be for the next few months—with its creaks and cracks, its solitude, and everything in between—a place to relax and recover and just be without the havoc of the outside world. And I couldn’t be more grateful.
The moment I give myself is fleeting. A deep breath to absorb the fact that I really did just do this. That I pulled it off. That this place of solace I had as a kid has now come full circle to be one for me as an adult. One that feels so very different than Chicago with the constant chatter on the scanner and the underlying fear mixed with adrenaline that came with every call I received.
Of the continual reminder of what happened everywhere I turned.
The girls aren’t the only ones who will have to get used to the country.
“Dad! Dad! Come look,” Paige shouts, waving her hand for me to come see what they’ve found.
Her eyes are alive with excitement, and I’m staggered momentarily as I stare at her, the spitting image of her mother.
How could she walk away from them? Walking away from me is one thing—I definitely have my faults—but them? The two incredible humans we created? How is the idea of a foreign country, a fleeting affair, and being content with rushed phone calls satisfactory to any parent, let alone their mother?
I just don’t get it.
“Dad.” A huffed word by my impatient tween.
“Yes. Coming.” I shake my head, trying to rid the sudden pang that I get every once in a while—that I failed my girls by not being able to make their mom see the importance of being present and in their lives. That’s on you, Britt. My smile widens, however, as I slide out from behind the wheel, stretching my legs on the dirt that has been in the Madden family for longer than I’ve been alive.
Family. Roots. Peace.
Isn’t this what I wanted for them? Some fresh air? A chance to roam? New experiences? Away from the constant reminders of . . . loss, and the job that almost took me from them?
“What did you find?” I reach Paige and run a hand down her back as she points to the backyard, her whole body vibrating with disbelief over the one thing I neglected to tell them. I needed some kind of surprise in case they were silently freaking out about leaving their lives behind for a while.
“A pool?” Addy shrieks, her gray eyes wide as saucers, her cheeks flush. “We have a pool?”
“What do you mean we have a pool?” I ask nonchalantly and walk to where I can see it. “Huh. What do you know? How’d that happen?”
Their shrill screams fill the air as two identical eleven-year-olds launch themselves at me and smother me in the best kind of hugs. Thank yous and oh my Gods fall from their lips over and over as they run to its edge to stick their hands in and test the water.
That tightness in my chest eases even more.
This was the right decision, Crew. It may not have been an easy one, taking them from everything that was familiar to them, but it was the right one.
“Should we go check out the inside? Fight over rooms and—”
“Yes,” is yelled in unison as they scramble around me and run to the front door. I follow, my step lighter and my heart fuller.
The next twenty minutes is a chaotic exploration. We move from room to room around cloth-covered furniture that, when I peek beneath, looks brand new. For a house he’s virtually moved out of, I’m grateful that he didn’t sell the furniture yet.