Between A Rock And A Hard Place 6

As I stare at the wall of my old bedroom, plastered in awards, certificates, and degrees, my arm twitches with the desire to hurl a brick at it. The only good it does me these days is to serve as a giant display of everything I've lost.

It took less than a year to go from an honors graduate student in psychology on my way towards becoming a psychologist to a homeless, broke, drop-out with a dead mom.

Fuck cancer.

The longer I stare at my wall of achievement, the hotter my blood simmers. As it reaches its boiling point, I glance around the room, searching for something, anything that would serve as my weapon. Coming up empty just fuels the fire and has me reaching towards the wall, swiping my arm across it as frame after frame comes crashing to the ground at my feet. Each one hits the floor with a crunch, sending broken glass shards dancing along the floorboards. Blood trickles down my arm from the nails that previously held my glory, impaling my pale skin.

By the time the wall is empty, so am I. I crumble to the floor and sob, which is how my father finds me. Bleeding, broken and desolate.

"Shit, Bryn. Are you okay?" His boots crunch against the glass surrounding me. I don't move. I don't think I could if I wanted to. These past two weeks have taken everything from me and left nothing but a shell of who I used to be.

Warm arms thick from muscles only gained through years of manual labor wrap around my small frame and pull me up from the floor. I feel like a child being carried out of the room and deposited on the dining room table.

"Holy fuck Brynlee, what the hell happened?" My uncle, Hunter, exchanges a look with my dad. The silent conversation plays out before me, though it might as well be shouted through the room. They are worried. Rightly so. This wouldn't be the first time I've thought about ending it. I don't even think they realize how bad things have gotten. Even before Mom died, I've been spiraling downward ever since her cancer diagnosis. I knew I was going to lose her and every single day was like being on borrowed time. Every minute that passed felt like waiting, wondering if the next would have her lifeless body in my arms. I held on for her, but now that she's really gone, what's the point.

"Baby, I need you to look at me." Two corded fingers land against the underside of my chin, tipping it up until I am met with a pair of honey brown eyes that match my own. "I know you are hurting. I know this is hard. Your mother and I haven't been together in almost twenty years but I loved her too. I know it's not the same but this will get easier. You just have to keep hanging on and over time, the pain will dull. It won't ever go away and there won't be a day that goes by where you don't miss her but Bryn, you still have me. And Hunter. And we love you and aren't going anywhere. I promise."

I want to find comfort in his words. I know he means them and I know he cares, but it's not the same. I haven't seen my dad in nine years. We chat on the phone and text now and again, but even before that, I haven't lived with him since I was five. That's been twenty years. The same amount of time as him and my mom have been divorced, and he moved across the country to start a business with his brother, my uncle Hunter, who is still watching me like a dying deer on the side of the road. Please, put me out of my misery. It would truly be a mercy killing.

"Levi, get her cleaned up and take her to wait in the truck. I'll take care of the mess in the bedroom and get these last few boxes loaded." Dad follows my uncle's instructions, lifting me again like I weigh nothing and carrying me into the bathroom. The room has been fully packed up, so he has nothing to use to clean the blood off me. With the tap turned to luke warm, Dad guides me forearms under the water, tainting the bowl red. His calloused finger swipe over my skin, wiping the lingering crimson from my skin.

Despite my void in my soul, his soft touch brings goosebumps along my flesh. The reaction reminds me of the intrusive thoughts that plagued my brain when Dad and Uncle Hunter first arrived.

Even fresh off a seven-hour flight, they both strolled up to the house, hands tucked into their front pockets dressed in tight-fitting jeans and long sleeve button-down shirts. Dad's was blue, Hunter's white. Each had a similar belt buckle, and a worn pair of dark brown square-toe boots. They looked like a pair of country music stars. Hot ones too. The thought filled me with shame in my already depleted state. I couldn't stop the way my eyes had traveled over their tight fitting shirts, clinging to muscles I didn't know men could get outside a gym. Thick thighs with a slight bulge sitting right below their belt buckles.

Mom and Dad had me at a young age, so at twenty-five, Dad was only in his mid-forties and Hunter was, I think, around eight years younger than him.

I chalked up my reaction to not having seen the pair in so long and really, I didn't grow up with either one apart from holidays here and there and a few video calls as I got older. It wasn't Dad's fault. The distance between us rested heavily on my shoulders. I was terrified of flying, even as a little girl, and the drive from Seattle to Myrtle Beach wasn't exactly an easy one to make. Dad tried to make it up as often as he could, but with a business to run, getting away wasn't always easy. Time and distance had gotten in our way.

I still can't believe I was moving to South Carolina, but what did I have left here? I had lost my so-called friends when Mom got sick last year, flunked out of college for the same reason. We had no money, the house was being foreclosed on due to all the medical expenses, and apart from Dad and Hunter, I had no other family.

Being miserable across the country would be just as easy to do as it would be here, so when Dad showed up and saw how bad things had gotten, he didn't leave much of a choice but for me to move in with him until I could figure out my life.

If that was even possible.

*******

Fifty hours in the car with nothing to do but think and listen to songs flow from the speakers just served as reminders of my Mom. Fucking Hell.

By the time we reach Podunk, South Carolina, I'm in physical pain. With the distance being so far, Hunter and Dad had agreed that we might as well take care of business in one trip, so they had rented a truck and trailer to make the drive across the damn country in one go. Problem number one: the only truck they had available was a single cab forcing me to sit between two hulking men that caused very inappropriate tingles in my lady parts and also happened to be fucking related to me. Problem number two: see problem number one because seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me? Problem number three: these stubborn ass men refused to stop. I get it. They had work and lives to get back to and wanted this trip over as soon as possible. We all did. But come on!

They ended up trading off between the two, so while one would drive, the other would sleep and vice versa. All with me crammed between them, their thighs pressing firmly against me, hands brushing over my skin, casting worried glances over my head as they silently held conversations about me that I didn't get to hear.

To say it has been a long two and a half days at the end of a long, shitty two weeks might just be the understatement of the century.

It's around five in the morning when we finally creep down a mile long gravel driveway to a building that looks like one of those machine shops. Pole buildings, I think they're called. But it doesn't look like a regular one. This one has a front porch, an overhang with dark stained beams spaced along the entire front of the building. The bottom fourth of the building is covered in gray stone while the top is made of vertical white siding. It's beautiful, but I'm still confused. I don't see a house anywhere on the extensive property. Several other buildings are off to the far left, but those all look similar except for the large red barn.

"Welcome home, sweetie." Dad leans over and kisses the top of my head, then slides out from behind the wheel with a long, exaggerated stretch. Hunter follows suit, his tee shirt creeping up to reveal the hard plains of his abdomen with a dark trail of hair below his navel. I rip my eyes away, back toward the building.

After my own round of stretches that has me moaning in pleasure at the chance to move my crammed, achy body, I follow the men into the building. The wide double doors open to reveal a beautiful, open home with high vaulted ceilings, a kitchen off to the left, a huge sectional directly to my right. This is his house?

"Wait, which one of you lives here? I'm assuming it's your place, Dad?"

I turn to my father, who has a small smirk on his face. "We both do kiddo. Since we spend all our time here on the ranch, it just makes the most sense. Hunter's got his own bathroom, small living room and kitchenette back that way," he points towards a hallway off the kitchen. "And I have the same upstairs. Then we have these common areas with the main kitchen and living room, bathroom over there and a couple guest bedrooms too. Some of the workers will crash here from time to time or we will rent out a room or two to tourists."

"Damn, okay. I had no idea."

"We haven't exactly kept in touch the best over the years, hun." Touche, Dad. Touche.

"Where am I staying?"

"Hunter, you mind showing Bryn to her room? I gotta get out to the barn and check in on the guys. Make sure nothing blew up while we were gone." Hunter nods. Dad plants another kiss to my forehead that lingers long after he turns on his heel and strides out, leaving me alone with my uncle.

"Right this way, kid." Hunter turns and motions for me to follow him down the hall towards where Dad had pointed out Hunter's corner of the house. Your room is right across from mine. The common rooms can get kinda busy with people coming and going, especially when we have guests, so feel free to hang out in my living room or use my kitchen anytime. If you stay here long term, we'll have to chat about getting you your own built upstairs. If you want, that is."

"So, uh, how long have you guys lived together like this?" I truly had no idea. It just serves as another reminder of how much I don't know about my own father. I always considered us close, despite the distance, but maybe I was blind to the crater that had formed between his life and mine over the years.

"Oh, what's it been? Seven years I think. We bought this acreage when your dad first moved here. There was nothing but pasture throughout the entire hundred and fifty acres so we each got a little mobile home and plopped them down right about here. We lived like that for a while until things got up and running. We focused on building the barn first, then the other buildings were added. This is the most recent addition. By the time we were established enough to invest in our own living spaces, we realized we spent most of our time hanging out in his place or mine with the workers coming and going all the time so this just made the most sense. Some people probably think it's a bit strange but it's never bothered either of us or impacted the business so we've always been content to let people say whatever they want."

I'm too busy taking in the warm wood accents and contrasting white walls, with black details embedded throughout the features of every room to respond. It's cozy yet masculine and comfortable. I'm kind of in love.

Hunter first takes me to his room, right across the hall from mine. There is a huge king bed in the center of the room sitting on an equally large wood bed frame that is the centerpiece of the room. Apart from that, it's fairly empty but not sterile or plain. Just simple and comfortable. He points to a door that leads to his bathroom, then through a threshold that leads to a small kitchen with just a microwave, dorm size fridge, and a short row of cabinets. Beyond that is a small apartment size living room with a singular couch, recliner, and TV mounted to the wall. Again, basic, but I could easily see myself hanging out here from time to time.

He leads me back through the kitchen, his room, and back into the hallway towards the only other door. My room.

It's empty apart from another king bed with a light wood headboard covered in a plush white duvet and an assortment of tan and white pillows. The wall behind the bed has horizontal planks running the length of the room. A large picture window looks out over miles of green pasture. The wood plank floor is covered in a large rope like rug. It's simple but beautiful, much like everywhere else I have seen. They must have had a decorator design the house because it's breathtaking.

"This is it kiddo. If you need anything, just let your dad or I know. Anything at all, I mean that."

I nod, still staring into the room, taking in all the little details. "You know I'm not a kid anymore, right?"

Beside me, Hunter lets out a sound almost like a low growl. "Yes, Bryn. Trust me, I know."

He's gone before I can say another word.

*******

Two weeks go by where I hardly leave my room. I drift in and out of sleep for days on end, only getting up to pee and take a sip of water once my mouth turns to cotton. There is a chance I've developed bed sores at this point. I couldn't care less.

Judging by the amount of light filtering through the closed curtains, it's around midmorning when the door swings open without so much as a knock.

"Alright sweetheart, we've let you wallow and grieve but this is getting out of hand. You can't spend the rest of your life in bed. I know you miss your mom and I know that it's going to take time to feel normal again but you have to start living your life." Dad comes in with Hunter on his heels. They each find a place perched on the edge of the bed that has become one with my skin. I'm buried in so many layers of covers I can't tell where they end and I begin.

The only response I have is the pull said covers over my head and will them to leave. I'm not remotely surprised when it doesn't work, but I wasn't expecting to have the blankets ripped off me. I yelp, attempting to grab them before they're out of reach. I have nothing on but a thin white tank top and a pair of plain black panties. Though, I don't exactly care about that. I mostly just want my blankets back so I can go back to sleep and be left alone.

If Dad or Hunter are surprised by my lack of clothing, neither says a word.

"Shower, kiddo. Now." The command comes from Hunter. I grumble and bury my head in the pillows. He yanks them off the bed as well, leaving me with nothing to act as my shield.

"I appreciate what y'all are trying to do here but seriously, I just want to be left alone. Okay?"

"Not happening. We've left you alone for over two weeks, sweetie. That ends now. Out of bed and in the shower. Now." Dad's voice takes on a deep, commanding bark that almost has me scurrying to follow his instructions. Almost.

"Kiddo, get out of bed and in the shower now before we do it for you." Hunter chimes in. What does that even mean?

I feel a little like a brat as I roll on my stomach, flashing them my nearly bare ass, and smash my face into the mattress. They can't make me do jack shit. Why can't they just leave me alone here to suffer in peace and silence?

"Alright, you asked for it." I've barely processed his words before I'm being hoisted up into a fireman's hold. I can't even tell who it is that's carrying me. A large hand sears like a brand into my skin, just below my ass. It's the first time in over a month that I've cared how I smell.

I lift my head as we pass through the doorway into my bathroom. A small stack of boxes sits behind the door where I have yet to bother unpacking. I can see Hunter following behind, so it must be Dad that's carrying me. The thought sends my stomach flipping.

I hear the shower turn on, then the soft rattle of the door sliding along its track. Dad flops me back over his shoulder, planting my ass on the cold marble countertop.

"Arms," he commands.

My jaw actually falls. "Excuse me?"

"If you're not going to take care of yourself, you leave us no choice but to do it for you. Now, take your shirt off or I'll do it for you. Choice is yours, Bryn."

"You're fucking insane. I'm not taking my shirt off in front of you! Or him!" I nod towards Hunter, who is learning casually in the threshold of the door with an almost indistinguishable smirk. I'm beginning to wonder if that smirk is a permanent fixture of his stupidly handsome face.

"We can turn around. But I'm not leaving. Sorry sweetie but I don't trust you to not crawl back into bed the moment we leave and I can't let that happen. It's fine that you can't hold yourself up right now but that just means that we are going to have to do it for you for now. Either way, this whole wallowing in bed all day every day ends now. You and I both know your mother didn't want that for you."

I grind my teeth as every muscle in my body tightens. Red hot rage fills my face, boils my blood, lighting my skin on fire. "How the FUCK would you know what my mother would want? You didn't know her!" I spit the words out, sending droplets across my father's face.

He doesn't even flinch. "That's where you're wrong darlin'. You're mama called me about four months ago. Told me what was going on, asked me to take care of you once she was gone. Made me promise to help you get back on your feet. Said you needed some time to drown in your grief but not to let you live there. 'Remind her to live, Levi. Don't let her die with me.' she'd said. We talked every day for the next four months, right up to the day she died. She told me all the stories about you I had missed. What a smart, beautiful, amazon young woman you were turning out to be. She also told me what her diagnosis had done. How she watched the light fade out of you that day. She hated feeling responsible for you walking away from your dreams, sweetie. So you see, I do know. I might not have known her as well as you did anymore but, I know what she wanted for you and this sure as shit ain't it. Now, if there is one thing I can do for her, it's to honor her dying wish." He levels me with an intense stare, never breaking eye contact. "Now, you gonna get in that shower or do I need to haul your ass in there myself."

His words knock the wind out of me, leaving me unable to move as I try to process this news. Why wouldn't she have told me? Dad must take my silence as my answer and rips my tank top over my head, leaving me fully exposed to him and my uncle. Hunter, from his place by the door, clears his throat. I can't seem to get my brain and body to reconnect in order to look over at him. I briefly wonder if he's looking at my body. Can he see the way my hip bones jut out against my skin from all the weight I've lost?

I've never been a large girl, but prior to my mom getting sick, I had the curves of a woman, not the body of a prepubescent little boy. I was never overly happy with my weight, constantly feeling like I had room to lose some extra inches on every part of me, but I got hit on enough at bars with my friends to feel confident in myself. In the last year, I've lost over forty pounds and in the last two weeks, I would guess I've lost another ten, which would put my weight around 95 pounds on my five foot three frame. It's no wonder neither man has a problem stripping me down like this. There is quite literally nothing left to look at. Even my boobs have shrunk down to next to nothing.

As Dad places his hands on my bare, protruding ribs and lifts me off the counter so I'm standing before him, then he reaches down and awkwardly rips my underwear down my legs. I feel his hands on my bare body as he leads me forward into the shower.