Return to Me by Christy Reece Page B

He and his brother, Mitchell, lay in separate beds, alternately crying and cursing. Mitchell did what he always had done. He blamed his mother for everything and defended his father.
    Noah could barely move. His father always made sure he got the worst of the beatings. Mitchell was his favorite. He might beat the hell out of his brother, but he always made sure Noah got the brunt. Though he and Mitch were identical twins, nothing besides their looks was similar, including their father’s feelings for them.
    By the time Noah was thirteen, he was big enough to defend himself against his father. One night, after a drunken binge, his father attacked him while he was asleep. Noah opened his eyes just in time to see a meaty fist headed to his face. Noah sprang out of bed and then beat the literal shit out of his father.
    After that, it became mostly verbal abuse. Noah usually ignored him. … His opinion mattered nothing. Sometimes, just for the fun of it, Noah would give him a look and Farrell would slam his mouth shut.
    Mitchell continued to be Farrell’s favorite. They would leave for days, hunting, fishing, and camping. Noah learned to fend for himself. He’d never seen the sport in killing an innocent animal. He understood it was an adventure for some, but it never appealed to him.
    Mitchell, the favored, good son was the one who received gifts, special treatment, or leftover money. Noah took what was left or what he could steal.
    The first time he stole, it had been out of hunger. Stupidly, he’d been caught. His father picked him up at the sheriff’s office. Noah hadn’t been scared of him. He knew he could whip his father. He hadn’t counted on his brother helping out with his beating.
    They’d tied him to bed and taken turns. He hadn’t been surprised Mitchell had helped. The brother he once knew, had shared a womb with, was no more. He was mean, possibly meaner than his father.
    They eventually let him go, but Noah had learned an important lesson. He could only count on himself. After that, when he stole, he was more careful. But he had a reputation now. A police record. Store owners were told to look out for him. Suspicion followed him and if something happened and no one was immediately caught, he was often hauled in to talk with the sheriff. He’d had few friends at school. Soon, he had none.
    That had been fine with Noah. Depending only on himself felt right. But he continued to break the law and thumb his nose at any authority he chose. He hadn’t cared what happened to him. He’d been wild, untamable, and angry as hell.
    Farrell Stoddard somehow continued to maintain his reputation, despite his drunken ways and violent habits with women. Mitchell followed in his footsteps and hid his evil ways under a charming smile. He fooled everyone but Noah.
    Noah tried to stay out of his way, his line of fire. Mitchell, for whatever reason, hated his brother. Before their mother left, anything Noah received, Mitchell had coveted. After she left, Noah had nothing, but the jealously continued.
    His brother’s envy had amused him for the most part. What the hell did he have that Mitchell could want? He stayed out of his way and did his own thing.
    Until Rebecca. Rebecca Stanley had been the most beautiful, fresh, and innocent thing Noah had ever seen. She moved to Monarch, Mississippi, in the middle of the school year. Noah and all of his sixteen-year-old hormones had fallen instantly in love.
    He’d never seen anything as pretty and delicate as Rebecca. With honey-blond hair, soft brown eyes, and a sweet personality, Rebecca had become instantly popular. She could have had any guy in the school as her boyfriend, so it was a complete shock that she actually flirted with and seemed to like Noah.
    Before he knew it, he was doing all the stupid, idiotic things teen boys did to attract a girl’s attention. He offered to carry her books if they looked even remotely heavy. He made sure he left a seat open at the lunch