Against Me (Cedar Tree Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

fields―had been for as long as I can remember. We used to walk to and from school, which is close to the centre of town. Wouldn't take us more than ten or fifteen minutes and we'd snatch whatever was growing on the fields to munch on, coming or going.
    Pulling up to the neglected house, I notice a brand-new Dodge Ram parked right beside my dad's old rusty Ford pickup. Before I’m even out of my SUV, the front door slams open and the angry form of my brother appears in the doorway; arms crossed over his chest and a dark scowl on his face. Fan-fucking-tastic. We have a welcoming committee. I simply wanted to alert my mother I would be around for a bit, doing some work from Farmington without going into detail, but apparently Malachi has already gotten wind of my presence. I’d hoped my father wouldn’t be around, but I guess I’m out of luck on that front too, since his truck is there.
    "The fuck do you want?"
    "Mal, Good to see you too. I'm here to see nihimá , to say hello. Gonna be around for a bit for work."
    "And nihizhé'é , Caleb? Aren't you forgetting your father?"
    "Not forgetting a soul, Mal. I'll say hello to everyone."
    I don't want to get into an immediate confrontation with my brother, who also happens to be the leader of the Klesh: a gang based out of Shiprock, suspected of involvement in drug trafficking. Yeah, I’m the lucky guy assigned to investigate his own fucking family members.
    Managing to get by Malachi, who insists on staying in the doorway like some sentry, I walk into the small living room, which hasn't changed in the past twenty-five years. I'm not even sure if it's been cleaned. A rank smell of unwashed bodies and decaying food assaults my nostrils. I have to fight the urge to turn on my heels and walk right back out that door, but family loyalty, a sense of responsibility, and a love that’s undeniable has me standing my ground.
    "Mom. Pops."
    I’m met with the blank look of my mother, who continues to rock herself on the edge of her seat, lost to her pain and the memories of happiness. She still clings to the old horseshoe frame with the baby picture of my sister, Nascha. Pops doesn't respond either, but he isn't even conscious. Passed out in his old Lazy Boy recliner, the only sound he makes is the gentle snoring of oblivion. Just the way he likes it. Claustrophobia tugs at my senses, but I shake it off as I turn to Mal, who still lingers in the doorway.
    "Have they eaten?"
    His eyes register surprise, his anger momentarily forgotten.
    "Nothing in the house. I was gonna grab some stuff. Just got here."
    So maybe my arrival had been as much of a surprise to him as his presence was to me.
    "Why don't you go do that, and I'll go clean out the kitchen. It fucking smells like a dumpster in here," I suggest, looking over my shoulder into the kitchen where every surface is covered in dirty dishes and empty containers. Christ!
    "And get some bleach while you're out. We're gonna need it."
    Turning my back, I can hear Mal's involuntary chuckle behind me and it about freezes me in my tracks. It’s a sound I haven't heard since he was a teenager. It's been fucking years.
    "On it, El Jefe," he taunts me with my childhood nickname.
    ––––––––
    I t hadn't been my plan to clean out my parents’ place. I had intended just to go in, say hi and start nosing around, but given that my potential biggest lead was standing on their doorstep had me shifting gears quickly.
    That's how I find myself three hours later, with my fingers pruning from the hot water and bleach concoction that I'm using to disinfect the grimy surfaces of my parents' bathroom. Holy hell, it must've been some time since this place has seen a sponge or water. The kitchen has already been sanitized and I've tossed the entire contents of the refrigerator. There was nothing in there that hadn't expired over two months ago. To think that this place was once a source of great pride for my mother, who was like a Native version