Page 7 of Broken Rules
“Why do I bother?” My beanie falls off my head as I push my fingers through my hair. “There’s a reason why I said once a month, Kylo. Hear me out. We raise the price to offset the loss of client intake; this way, you can have more of a break between sessions. Dealing with other people’s stress can become emotionally draining without proper self-care.”
He stands, strolling toward the cabinet drawer next to the range, and slides a bottle opener to me. “I understand your concerns, really, but I’d rather not lose clients, especially my regulars who need my service. Helping them with their mental health outranks my need for personal time.”
I down half the beer after opening it. “Fine. It’s your business, do what you want, but don’t come to me when you’re feeling burnt out.”
Sitting next to me, he nudges his shoulder into mine. “Don’t be like that.”
“I worry about you,” I say, picking at the bottle label as condensation forms along the bottom. “You’re my best bud. Can’t blame me for dwelling onyourmental health.”
I arch a brow at him when Kylo places his arm around my shoulders with a smirk on his face. “You love me.”
Chuckling, I give him a wink. “You know it.”
“I love you too, brother. I appreciate everything you do, don’t forget that.”
A sharp breath leaves me as I laugh and tip my beer at him before down the rest. “I’ll call Lina in the morning. Just promise me you’ll consider my proposition after this one.”
“Done. I’ll take the next month off.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” I pat his shoulder as I stand, grabbing my beanie off the floor and placing the bag of peas on my shoulder to keep for later. “I’m heading home. Thanks for the peas and beer.”
“Goodnight.”
Leaving out the back door, I stroll along the front of the cabin until the deck forks, and I slip my hat on as a chilly breeze passes through, heading toward the guest house a few yards back. I could find a place of my own, but Kylo offered me to stay here—saying the addition would be a waste of space and having his assistant close is also better for the business. We started the Kylo Kent Experience straight out of high school, and we never thought business would take off the way it has, a little too much.
My place is similar to Kylo’s, an open concept, floor-to-ceiling windows throughout the first floor, facing the cabin, trees, and a view of the lake—rustic yet modern with red oak floors and black panels that separate each glass.
Kicking off my shoes, I hang my coat on a hook behind the door, head into the kitchen on my left, and store the peas in the freezer. There’s a four-seater white marble island, dark cabinets, and stainless steel appliances.
The living area is where I spend most of my time across from the kitchen, my black leather couch facing the woods. Even though I despise my logging occupation, the view of the snow-lined trees swaying in the wind helps calm me after a hard day, and I’ll lay back in my recliner with the fireplace going to unwind.
Since I grabbed food on the way home, I stroll upstairs toward the back, which leads to my lounge room, main bathroom, and bedroom suite. I plop onto the edge of my bed, rubbing my eyes, and my shoulders slump as I exhale a heavy breath.
Fuck, I’m tired. Exhausted, and it’s only Tuesday.
I need to shower, but the second I lie back on the mattress, I groan, never getting up again.
* * *
Four days of my early morning routine, waking up at 4:00 a.m., drinking my coffee, and arriving at work at 5:00—I’m now thirty minutes in with my fourth tree of the day down and tons more to go. Our current location is on an incline, so many of our trees need to be cut with a saw, using the butcher, a more efficient machine, for the flatter surface areas. I’ve been doing the job of three men the past couple of weeks, and even telling dad we need more men, he continues to take his time hiring.
I’m close to losing my shit.
If this is his way of teaching me a lesson on running this type of business, working all aspects of the job, it’s not very efficient on my body. Soon enough, there won’t be a body left to take over. I get to work topping the few trees, clearing as many branches as possible in the timeframe I have to get the number of trees down.
Bones comes walking toward me, and I wouldn’t be surprised or blame him if he ends up quitting like he says every day. I wouldn’t get shit done on time if he wasn’t here, so I hope he won’t.
“Skidder’s running.”
“Alright, almost got these done, and you can chain them up.”
What would usually take three days to fully load a truck with an appropriate crew takes Bones and me a week to get done alone. After five hours, I get a call from Gwyneth, Dad’s secretary, that he needs me to finish paperwork after loading the truck and look over the newer applications. I officially lose my shit.
“Drop that log and take your lunch,” I say to Bones and leave for my truck.
I don’t use this vehicle outside work, but I drive back to the cabin, needing to put as many miles between me and the mill as possible before I do or say something I’ll regret afterward. My heart’s racing as I get to Kylo’s front door, knocking, but I use my key instead, barging in before he can answer, striding for the bar in the kitchen.
“I’m done,” I say, pouring vodka into a shot glass and taking it.
