Home. That’s a place Samoset “Sam” Dawn has been trying to find since he was a child in foster care. A misfit, he endured the taunts and scorn of his fellow classmates until he fled as soon as he aged out of the system. He traveled the country, trying to find a sense of belonging. Decades later, after failed relationships and unsatisfying jobs, he’s right back where he started.
Oakley Hudson is one of Sam’s coworkers at his new job. He’s full of energy, perpetually cheerful and the total opposite of Sam’s taciturn nature. This doesn’t stop Oakley from trying to get Sam to lighten up a bit and take another chance at belonging. Now Sam wonders if home is where the heart is.
Can Sam allow himself to open up long enough to let someone in, after all this time?
A month passed and I was still looking for a place to rent. I had received the items I had shipped via freight and put them in a storage unit for now. The cool air had become colder as October came to an end. Halloween was the next day, a Saturday, and the company, I had learned, typically had some kind of costume party every year. It was my weekend to work, too, so I would head over there after my day was done.
Oakley had continued his campaign to get me to go out somewhere with him and his buddies, or just him, but I was reluctant. Getting close to people hadn’t done me any favors in the past. So why start now? Still, he was wearing me down, though I didn’t want to admit it. Perhaps it would be nice to have a friend.
I was in the locker room, having just finished my shower and getting dressed for my walk back to the motel, when I heard raised voices coming from the other side of the room. They sounded familiar. Were those two idiots from the motel at it again? They argued all the time, I had noticed, but this was the first time since I’d been here that I’d seen things escalate this far.
I ignored it. I wasn’t the only one in here, after all, and it would likely blow over, or someone else would intervene. I laced up my black boots, secured my locker and grabbed my backpack. Before I could even get to the door, though, something hit me hard from the left side, and down I went, my backpack breaking my fall. That hurt!
The two morons who’d been punching and kicking each other had landed on me and now I was involved. They seemed oblivious to the fact that I was trying to get out from under them. One fist caught my jaw and another hit my cheek, close to my right eye. Jesus. Thankfully, they rolled off me, and I used that opportunity to stand up, staggering a little. There were other guys gathered around, egging these fools on, and doing nothing to help. I was pissed to hell and back.
I grabbed the legs of one man and yanked, hard, swinging him away from his fisticuffs companion. He yelped as he landed off to the side, ending up against the lockers, stunned. The men who’d been standing around, jumped out of the way. I used the other guy’s surprise to haul him up by his shirt, so we were now face to face.
“What the fuck is the matter with you?” I shook him a little and then shoved him away. He stumbled back and ended up sitting clumsily on one of the benches. I touched my face, knowing there would be bruising soon.
I walked over and grabbed my backpack, which had been kicked to another corner of the room. “There are better ways to resolve a dispute. Maybe try that, next time?” I could feel eyes on me as I opened the door the leave. Just my luck, one of the bosses, Hovis, was standing there, and Oakley was right behind him.
“What’s going on, Sam?” Hovis asked, expression serious and concerned.
“Ask them,” I replied, and stepped around him, ignoring Oakley who was trying to catch my eye. I wasn’t in a good frame of mind for conversation.
When I got back to the motel, I got some ice from the machine down the corridor, wrapped it in a towel and alternated between both bruises. They would be purple by morning. I hoped those guys would finally get a clue. I hated fighting, had done too much of it to want to ever go down that road again.
