Hell Yeah!: Gun Shy (Kindle Worlds Novella) Read Online Free PDF Page B

plugs—she’d given him a hug.
    He could still feel her warmth.
    When they pulled to a stop before the house, his fingers clamped on the steering wheel.
    “Well,” she said in a chirp. “Here we are.”
    “Here we are.”
    “The barn looks like it needs a coat of paint.”
    He glanced to the left and nodded. It probably needed a good deal more than a coat of paint. His father had not been one for taking care of business, unless business involved getting shitfaced and beating his wife and kids.
    “The house could use some sprucing up too. Can you imagine how pretty that trim would be in a bright white?”
    “It would be pretty.” But he just said that to be polite. His stomach was churning and beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. Damn. This was going to be harder than he’d anticipated.
    “Andrew?”
    She waited until he met her gaze. “Hmm?”
    “It’s just a house.” This she said in a whisper, but there was a wealth of empathy behind it. As though she knew what he was working through. As though she understood.
    Then again, of all the people in the world, she probably did.
    He nodded and briskly levered from the car and, when she joined him in the yard, made his way up the path to the porch.
    The rose bushes his mother had planted along that walk were overgrown and speckled with weeds. He’d need to take care of that. Mom had always loved roses and he hated to think of her babies being in a derelict state.
    The porch steps creaked as he mounted them, and he added that to his list of things that needed to be done. Keeping a list was a great way to deal with a situation without facing it emotionally. It was a strategy he’d perfected through hundreds of missions in dangerous territory.
    Nothing was more dangerous than this.
    When he tried to fit the key into the lock, his hand shook. He sucked in a deep breath, steadied himself, and tried again. The turn of the tumblers resonated through him.
    He pushed the door open and it swung in, creaking on its hinges. He almost expected the specter of his father to come screaming down the stairs in a rage.
    But he didn’t.
    Everything was silent.
    He steeled his spine and stepped inside. Crossed that threshold he’d once sworn never to cross again.
    He glanced to the left into the living room, with its lovely curved bay windows. The furniture was all gone, but he could still see it there, carefully arranged and tended by his mother’s touch. There had been good memories in that room. Memories of Mom on the couch with Danny and Andy on either side of her as she read to them. Homework done on that coffee table as she looked on. Christmas mornings around the tree filling the niche.
    Yes. There had been good times.
    None of them included his father.
    He turned to the right and stared at the double doors to his father’s study.
    How many times had he been dragged in there by the scruff of his neck for a beating? He couldn’t even remember.
    He left those doors closed and headed down the hall, past the curving staircase and the large dining room, to the kitchen at the back of the house.
    Ah. This room had been filled with love.
    His father rarely ever darkened the door, and it was a place Andy, his mom, and brother had spent many happy hours. He could practically smell the cookies baking.
    “This is a great space,” Melissa said, wandering to the pantry to peek inside. “Lots of counter space. Double oven…great for entertaining. Do you intend to entertain?”
    He shrugged. Hell, he didn’t have a clue.
    “No worries. You can decide later.” She rounded the butcher’s block and opened the door to the maid’s room, which was off the kitchen. “This is nice,” she murmured.
    Andy nodded. “Has its own bathroom too.”
    “I love it.” She grinned at him. “Shall we go upstairs?”
    He nodded and led her up the back stairs to the broad hallway that ran the length of the house. The first bedroom they came to was the master, a large, airy room that,