Unafraid (Beachwood Bay) by Melody Grace Read Free Book Online Page A

all the way up for your graduation.”
    “I told you not to,” I remind her. “What’s the use of some stupid ceremony when I already finished the credits? It’s all just for show.”
    “It’s tradition,” my mom corrects, as if they’re not the same thing. “We’d planned a whole dinner, your father’s old classmates were coming. It was very embarrassing to have to cancel at the last minute.”
    I make a beeline for the kitchen and take a beer from the fridge, gulping down half the bottle at once. I wonder for a moment if my parents even cared about my finishing college, or if, to them, it was just an excuse for another party, another way to brag to all their friends about their perfect family.
    “So tell me, Hunter,” Mom changes tacks. “How long is this little rebellion of yours going to last? The summer? Longer?”
    “It’s not a rebellion,” I growl, like I haven’t explained this a hundred times. “We had a deal, remember? I said I’d stick it out through school, but now I’m done. This is my life now.”
    “Working on a ranch?” I can practically see my mom’s lip curl with disdain. “That’s not a life, not for a Covington.”
    “It was good enough for grandpa.” I stroll over to the windows and rest my forehead against the cool glass. This was why I skipped graduation, and all my parents’ bullshit. The minute my last paper was done, I traded my birthday BMW in for a pick-up truck, threw some clothes in a bag, and hit the road. Eleven hours down the coast with nothing to do but think, but somehow, with every mile I felt lighter: driving away from their legacy, to a future of my own making.
    “My father was a fool,” Mom replies bluntly. “What are you going to do for money out there? Don’t think your father and I are going to support this foolish plan.”
    “I don’t want anything from you.” I state firmly. “Grandpa left me the land, and some left over, and I’ll earn the rest.”
    “Training horses,” there’s that familiar sneer again. “Honey, I don’t know where this is coming from. We had it all planned out: Yale, then law school—”
    “I never wanted to go to law school,” I interrupt, clenching my fist. This is what she does, badger you with her own plans until it’s easier to go along with it all.
    But not this time. I’ve had enough.
    “Then business school,” my mom corrects, “Or even straight to the company, working with your dad. We’ve been talking, and there’s a seat opening up on the board—”
    “No, mom, stop it!” My voice rings out, harsh, and there’s silence.
    “I’m sorry,” I bite back my frustration, “But you’re not listening. I’m not coming home, I’m not joining the firm. This is it, mom, it’s done.”
    “I just can’t stand to see you throwing away all your potential. You’re not a kid anymore, Hunter. You have responsibilities.” She tries again, but it’s late, and I’m too tired for this. Seeing Brit again like that has got me on edge, too wound up to go another ten rounds with my mother and wind up exactly where we started.
    “I got to go mom,” I tell her. “You take care, OK?”
    “Hunter—”
    I hang up, and take a deep breath, gazing out at the dark fields. It’s quiet out there, unnervingly so. This empty space is still new to me, echoing nothing but the chirp of the crickets in the grass. Back at college, lights blazed everywhere, and noise too; late night parties in the dorm, and 24/7 takeout joints lining the streets in the student ghettos. I could always find a distraction, something to block my own thoughts, but here, the nearest property is over a mile away, and tonight, there’s nothing but silence.
    I go get another beer and flip the TV on to drown the quiet. Some old movie is playing, Cool Hand Luke , but I can’t concentrate. As two beers turn into four, and five, I slip into a sleepy haze and the memories start coming. The way I knew they would; the way they always