The Family Origin

Chapter Twenty-Seven: JOSEPH POV

I promised myself I would not drink because my mind needed to remain clear and sharp, but when I laid in an empty bed, it was too much to handle. Clara had been next to me every single night for the past twenty-four years. We had never been apart. It was unfair that I could lay in a warm bed, and her body was deep in the cold ground.

Throughout the night, I was unable to sleep. I drained one of my whiskey bottles until I heard Miles and Maisie moving around the house. I wanted to stay in the room all day, Clara's smell still lingered on the sheets, but I needed to go outside with Miles. This farm needed to keep running. The family needed this farm to survive.

I stumbled as I changed out of my dirt-splattered clothes. My head was cloudy, and I could feel myself sway as I walked. My bones and muscles ached from exhaustion. I held onto the banister as I came down the stairs so that I would not fall.

Miles and Maisie were already at the dining room table. I opened the kitchen cabinet and grabbed another bottle of whiskey. My hands shook as I poured a glass, and the alcohol splashed onto the counter. Neither of them said anything as I staggered over to the table.

I could not recall our conversation over breakfast. The day was a series of spotty memories. I tried to complete the necessary chores, but my body moved without any clear thoughts. My body continued to ache as exhaustion washed over me.

I was unsure when I fell unconscious, but I was stuck in a haze of disorientation when Miles nudged my leg with the toe of his boot. My vision was blurry, and my mouth was dry and filled with a disgusting taste. I rubbed my eyes and craned my sore neck to look up at Miles. His arms were crossed over his chest as he stared down at me. I had passed out in the barn, and my back was against the wall. A cramp formed in my neck and ran down my shoulder.

"What do you want?" I asked.

My voice was hoarse and cracked. My throat burned, and I needed another drink.

"You're drunk," Miles said.

"Why does it matter?" I asked. My head ached, and I ran my hand along my temple. "I haven't been drunk in a while."

"You're being reckless," he said. "You didn't lock the door. Someone could have hurt Maisie again."

"The door is unlocked?"

"I made sure it was locked after you came outside. One of us needs to be responsible."

I chuckled, and the sound was so absurd. Miles would be the head of this family but now was not the time. He was protecting this family, but he could not take my moment of weakness as an opportunity to assert dominance over me.

"The doors should have never been unlocked," I said.

I let out a deep breath. The doors were a test for Maisie. None of this was ever supposed to happen. I was afraid she may try to leave, but I never thought that an intruder would come into our home. Was this guilt always going to haunt me? Would there be enough alcohol to get rid of this feeling that was tearing my mind apart?

"The doors will never be unlocked again," I said. "No one else will ever be inside the house again."

Miles was silent. His unreadable expression did not change as he watched me. I needed to get off the ground, but I did not have the strength.

"No one will ever come onto the farm again," Miles said. "There will be consequences if they do."

I could not hold back my laughter. My head tilted back against the wall as I chuckled. Miles did not react to my misplaced drunken laughter.

"What are you going to do if someone comes onto the farm?" I asked sarcastically.

"I'll kill them."

There was no hesitation in his voice. His cold demeanor did not change as he spoke. I was unsure if he was serious, but I had no doubts he would do it again. Without a second thought, he had murdered that intruder to protect his wife and his mother.