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Back Where There's A Will Save as PDF
Chapters (39)
  1. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  2. PROLOGUE
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. Interlude
  37. Acknowledgements
  38. Content Warning
  39. About the Author

I tell myself the least I can do is check his bar out. Have a couple beers...or ten. Catch up on each other’s lives. See if Izzy’s still around too. If Waylon and Mason are still close, I can’t imagine why the third in their little trio wouldn’t be around, either. Maybe I’ll even scrounge up the balls to ask for Reggie’s contact info and see how flexible he’s willing to be.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s still a place for me here. Maybe there’s a reason I found my way back here, back to Shiloh. Who the fuck knows?

Then again, I might just be chasing something that never was to begin with. A home that was never really mine to have, even way back then. Maybe I’m just replacing one ghost with another. Seeking out something I’ve just built up in my head all these years, that, in reality, amounts to nothing at all.

Maybe, maybe, maybe...

I tell myself this has nothing to do with Waylon. The angry boy with the black hair and green-gold eyes. I mean, so what if a small, miniscule part of me is dying to see what he looks like now? So what if it feels like my heart is literally going to explode at the thought of actually seeing him again?

So what if I know better?

It’s not like I have anything left to lose. Not anymore.

I’m free in all the wonderful and horrible ways a person could be free.

Yeah, there’s a very good chance this will end badly. And I know that, but I can’t seem to stop myself. Not when it feels like I’ll be ripping out some vital piece of me, should I turn this offer down. It doesn’t make much sense, but I learned a long time ago there’s no point questioning it. This...impulse that just rears its ravenous head up when I least expect it, demanding to be heard. Demanding I do what it says, growing louder and louder with each passing second I remain uncertain.

It’s that same voice that drove me to leave everything behind, and the same voice I hear now. Louder than possibly ever before, it issues the same closing argument it always does. The one that never fails to get me to listen. The check-mates to end all check-mates—

Fuck it.

2

2

Waylon McAllister

This isn’t working.

I glare down at the notebook in my hands and angrily scratch out the line I’ve been working on for the last twenty minutes. Normally I have no problem jumping into whatever the guys have given me, but this song is just not speaking to me. At all.