Rocked (The Everyday Heroes World) - Julia Wolf Page 0,7
hard-ass. You gotta earn it.”
Ellie leaned into me once we were inside, shutting the door behind us. “Are you a hard-ass, Mom?”
Smiling, I kissed the side of her head, my heart finally calming because she was safe. “Only when I need to be, baby.”
Three
Devon
I woke to birds chirping and sunshine on my face. If this was a sign, then it was a really fucking obvious one. Fate was screaming, “You’re in the right place, look how cheery it is. Now get your ass out of bed and write some music!”
With a groan, I rolled my stiff body out of the surprisingly comfortable bed, stretching my arms over my head. I yawned, shaking off the last clinging tendrils of sleep.
Damn, did I feel good. Better than I had in a long time—and that was after only one night in this town. Maybe Sunnyville did hold the cure for my woes.
A guy could hope.
I took a shower in the cramped bathroom of my tiny rental cottage. Last night, I had barely looked around before passing out in the one and only bedroom. I’d seen enough to decide it was clean and quiet and the thread count far surpassed the scratchy motel sheets I’d been tossing and turning on over the past few weeks.
Leaning my head against the cool tile, I groaned at what a mess I’d made yesterday…and how much worse it could have been. I’d been so groggy and out of it, it hadn’t even registered that I could have killed someone. Like that little girl or her dog. Maybe her angry mom or her surprisingly chill dad. I was such an idiot, driving in that condition. Once again, I let my ego make the decisions. Like my pride would keep me awake when I’d barely slept for days.
So stupid.
Once I threw on some clothes and gave the place a thorough once-over—there wasn’t much to see, but I liked the simple lines and airy feel—I ventured outside. A small front porch with a swing led to a well-manicured front yard with green, green grass and fragrant flowers.
I’d lived in the city my entire adult life, but I found this yard, the swing, the little clapboard house, all quaint and comfortable. Some people missed the noises of the city when they left, but I couldn’t say I did. Maybe I would, but for now, silence was golden.
With my eyes closed, I tipped my head back, letting the morning sunbathe my skin. Yeah, this was some good shit. I even found myself humming a jaunty tune, my fingers itching to write down the notes in my head. It wasn’t a song, but maybe it was the start of one.
A dog barked and barked again, interrupting my zen. I cracked an eye open in time to see a curly-haired blur barreling through the line of trees separating my yard from my neighbor’s.
“Leroy! Get back here!” called someone still hidden from view.
Leroy wasn’t about listening to commands. He was on me, paws on my chest, hearts in his eyes. Maybe because I gave him a good, hard scratch behind his ears.
“Hey, Leroy. Come for a visit?”
Leroy licked my chin in response, then laid on the ground, belly up. I had no choice but to get down there with him and rub his silken stomach.
“Oh my god, Leroy! I told you you have to stay in our yard!”
The girl from yesterday approached slowly from between the trees, a sheepish expression on her small, freckled face.
“Hi,” she said, sounding tentative.
“Hey, little sister. Your mongrel seems to have escaped.” I nodded at the dog scratching his back on my grass, waiting to be adored.
“Yeah, he likes to do that.” She pushed her glasses up her nose. “Sorry.”
I waved her off. “No worries. He didn’t gnaw my face off, so we’re all good.”
She knelt on the other side of her dog, shooting furtive glances my way when she thought I wasn’t looking. I wasn’t much of a kid person, and I had no idea what to say to this one, but I tried anyway.
“Does your mom still hate me?”
The girl snickered, but tried to cover it up by coughing. “Probably, especially if you were drunk. Mom loathes drunk drivers.” She shrugged. “She’s at work now, but I’ll ask her later.”
Letting out a long sigh, I sat back on my heels. “I wasn’t drunk. But driving while I was that tired was a big screw-up. I don’t have much of an excuse.”