Undefeated

by C. D. Gill

  Why had they bailed on him? His family were the only ones he longed to see, yet no one came when he needed them most. Then out of the blue, his brother met him for less than fifteen minutes. Her family was the exact opposite—always ready to bring guns to a knife fight at the smallest whimper for help. She’d loved it until that willingness to rescue got her uncle killed.

  Xander probably wished he could beat her over the head every time she moaned about independence from her parents when all he wanted was acceptance from his family. Flicking her radio to CD, Gia let the Top 30 Hits from the fifties soothe her guilt.

  By the time Xander buckled into the passenger seat, the matter of calling someone at Salguod to help Xander was mapped out in her mind. Crime had an underworld as did every large company. And the cubicles never stopped workers from keeping an eye on everyone else waiting for all hell to break loose. A couple of people owed her favors and they’d be eager to settle the score with an open-and-shut involving Xander’s case. Now if only she could keep the mess of her past from the mess of her present.

  There was a pattern and she was the common denominator.

  Without a word, Gia started the car and drove to the work site. Johnnie had given her the code to get into the trailer where some of the smaller, basic tools were secured. Inside, Xander handed her a few items to carry and then hauled the rest over by himself setting them on the grass. Stepping onto the side of the dumpster, he muscled his feet over the ledge with stunning grace and eased himself into the container.

  There was no telling what he’d landed on. Gia closed her eyes waiting for the shout of pain. When none came, she edged onto the dumpster and peeked over. Xander mumbled to himself as he dug through the scraps. When he found a piece of plywood, he yanked it out from under other debris and heaved it over the side of the dumpster. Shingles, siding, mixing buckets, and wood scraps followed until finally Xander jumped out. Gia dropped off the ledge to sort the goods but stared at the pile instead.

  With his hands propped on his hips, Xander cleared his throat. “This was all that looked usable for making a fort.”

  “Out of that entire dumpster?”

  Xander raised his eyebrows in a challenge. It was a stupid question, but she’d really expected more. A lot more.

  “What about that drywall? Could we use that for something?”

  “I’m sure all of it could be used in some way, but not for the forts we planned to build.”

  Gia groaned and massaged her temples as the throbbing pulsed. “Maybe you can figure out what we could do with what’s left while I do some calculations here.”

  Xander stared at her, his face deadpanned in protest.

  “Please? This isn’t much to work with and I highly doubt it’s twelve percent of the waste they’ve output.”

  With a growl, Xander crawled back into the dumpster. Gia retrieved the scribbled fort dimensions from her pocket. Cardboard boxes and foam came flying onto the grass as she surrendered to the reality. What they had to work with would get them an open-faced dollhouse or a couple of bird hotels.

  “Xander, we’re going to have to rework our idea.”

  His head popped up over the edge. “No kidding. And unless we’re willing to risk the cardboard and foam getting ruined by future rains, then we have to have dry storage.”

  Gia cringed. Where would that kind of space be found overnight? She paused. “Will I regret it if I offer the second floor of my office?”

  His lips rose in a slow smirk. She was definitely going to regret letting him build in her office. “Depends on what we’re making. If we’re not making forts and everything is smaller scale, then there won’t be much hammering or sawing going on in the middle of the day. We could glue things together. And we certainly won’t need any expensive tools like they have here to build things. We can make do in a smaller space.”

  Without this plan, her brilliance of solving two problems with one solution became another dead end. She could sacrifice her peace until the nonprofit grew big enough to have their own office. Or until she finished with this project. How long would that take? A year? It was a risk they needed to take. Had to take to save her contract.

  “I’m fine with it as long as you realize you’re going to be doing dumpster diving each week to get materials.”

  Xander shrugged. “At least the overhead is low.”

  What kind of man was perfectly fine with dumpster diving? One who was grateful to be alive and didn’t take anything for granted. His humility was admirable.

  They loaded the foam and cardboard into the SUV and set to work on constructing an open-faced dollhouse from the wood he’d salvaged. They worked until dusk getting the outer shell perfect. The dollhouse was something Gia would have asked for Santa to bring her for Christmas as a kid. Once they finished the interior, the house would be ready for purchase. With the rest of the gathered materials crammed into what little space was left in her SUV, Gia and Xander locked the tools away and drove to Gia’s office to unload.

  Four trips from the car was all it took to have her SUV unloaded and the dollhouse in the center of the room. They painted the dollhouse walls with leftover paint samples Gia used for painting her office, inserted the floors and stood back to admire their work. The dollhouse was more of a log cabin, but the size allowed for a variety of toys to fit in at the same time. Excitement bubbled inside her chest.

  “Some little girl is going to love this. In the morning, we’ll take this over to Carlos’s General Store. I’d bet he’d give our items some shelf space.”

  Xander stared at her for a minute dissolving the excitement. “What if he doesn’t? What are our other options?”

  “He will. Why wouldn’t he?” Gia flexed her fingers and prayed for calm. She was tired of being second guessed.

  He didn’t budge an inch. “Humor me, Gia. What’s our alternative?”

  She rolled her eyes and huffed. “Our alternatives are trying other stores on Main Street, seeing what Lucy can help us with, or selling things online.”

  With a nod, he strolled to the door. She waited. They had made so much progress in the last few days. He’d crack. But if he didn’t, she wasn’t going to get any sleep. One more deep breath and she trailed him to the door and brushed past him. She felt his eyes watching her as she skipped down the stairs into the dark hallway leading outside to the loading dock where she’d parked.

  Gia glimpsed a dark figure near her car through the open door. Using the door frame to shield her body, she peeked around at a man in dark clothes lounged against the driver’s side door. He faced away from her. Stuffing her hands into her purse, she cocked her gun with a gentle hand, then strode out the door watching her step as if to give him the upper hand. Her hand rummaged around her purse rustling for her keys while holding onto her gun. When the figure shifted toward her, she glanced up, lifted her gun near the top of the bag, and froze.

  Grant.

  “What are you doing here?” Her heart lurched as she struggled to maintain a neutral expression. She couldn’t get the feel of his hand shoving up her dress out of her mind. A shiver crawled up her spine.

  Grant opened his arms but dropped them to his side with a grimace when Gia didn’t budge. “I drove past and saw the lights in your office on but didn’t see your car in front so I came around back to make sure it wasn’t a break-in or something. And when I saw your car I had to stop to apologize about last night. We had such a good thing between us and I—” His mouth hung open as his eyes tracked something behind her. “Oh, you aren’t alone.”

  The lock on the back door snapped into place before Xander’s heavy footsteps stopped next to Gia on her left side. Smart man. She pointed the muzzle opposite of her body and fished out her keys. She wasn’t rehashing last night’s epic disaster in front of Xander again.

  “Grant, meet—”

  “Xander,” Xander said as he crossed his arms across his chest.

  Grant’s lip curled. “Is he your latest charity case?”


  Oh no, he did not. For being such a nice guy two days ago, Grant was crashing and burning in grand fashion. Gia flipped her hair and put her hand on Xander’s arm. “Actually, Xander manages a non-profit in the Denver area and very kindly agreed to consult with me on my new project.” The anger simmering in her chest transformed her words into a violent hiss. “You are way out of line insulting a guest of mine.”

  Defeat registered behind the arrogance in Grant’s eyes. It was time to hammer the nail all the way in and end this. “I think you’ve done quite enough these last two nights, Grant. Thanks to everything that’s happened this past week Xander and I have a busy week ahead of us, so if you’d excuse us.”

  She unlocked her car and closed the door behind her, slapping the lock into place manually. Xander hopped in at the same time. Grant watched with his hands on his hips. As she backed out, he rushed her window and knocked.

  “Don’t open it, Gia. Drive away,” Xander murmured as he bent to fidget with something on the floor.

  She cracked the window an inch to hear what he had to say.

  Grant’s hands pressed against her window as he put his mouth up by the crack. “Gia, I know I messed up. I’m really sorry.”

  Xander’s arm stretched across her lap and lifted the switch, sealing the window tight. At that, she yanked the car into drive and pressed the gas. There was no looking back. Grant had lost his chance, even Lucy would agree. A mile from her house, Gia turned into the parking lot of a local pizza joint. They’d missed lunch and dinner, so Xander’s moody silence could have stemmed from his hunger. But most likely not all of it.

  At the counter, Gia ordered a large meat feast pizza and a salad to share. When she glanced at Xander, he shook his head and left to fill their water cups. The salad arrived at the table as soon as Xander sat down with their waters. Neither of them wasted time portioning the salad onto plates and ate straight from the bowl. With food in her stomach, Gia sat back and rubbed her face with her hands. The day had started off okay but took a sharp left into a disaster zone after that.

  “That was my brother Lincoln who met me at the park,” Xander said.

  Gia dropped her hands to the table and focused on Xander’s shuttered expression. The waitress plopped the pizza onto the rack in the middle of the table and left without a word. Xander dished two pieces onto a plate, then handed the plate to Gia. The chivalry warmed her heart.

  He picked up a piece with a sigh. “My parents are embarrassed to be my family. Dad’s all but disowned me. I won’t be accepted there anytime soon. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to stay over the garage until we sell the doll house and see what sort of response our products will have. I know my staying isn’t exactly ideal.” His face scrunched.

  “You can stay, Xander. In fact, it’s more convenient if you do stay so that we can get the upcycled business going without too much hassle.”

  Gia’s phone buzzed.

  A text from Lucy said, Grant showed up at Mother Hen asking if I could help him get back into your good graces. Tucker managed to walk him out before I told him exactly what I thought of him.

  She huffed and responded. Things are over with Grant. Ended bad. Keep your mouth shut especially about Xander or so help me!!

  Lucy’s response came in a minute later. You betcha. =) <3

  Gia’s heart sank. Lucy really liked Grant and had pushed Gia to date him for as long as they’d been friends. Lucy’s big mouth did not keep the promises that Lucy’s brain made. The temptation of calling her parents popped into Gia’s mind uninvited. Things weren’t bad enough yet. If things got worse—when things got worse—then she’d call, but not a moment before.

  “I’m calling my contacts about Salguod tonight. If they know anything, I’ll make sure they get you connected with the right sources.”

  *****

  The next morning, Gia and Xander priced the dollhouse and drove it over to Carlos’s. While Xander found a good spot in the front window for it, Gia set Carlos’s mind at ease about her newspaper article. He was worried that she might be in Golden to create a big box store that would put him out of business. When she assured him she was merely an architect, he agreed to find a place for any other upcycled items she brought in.

  With the terms settled, Xander and Gia drove to the office. She knew better than to allow hope to creep in, because that’s when life decided to smash her into place. The good things that slipped into her life never seemed to stay for long.

  And that’s exactly what she felt like when she parked her car and her gaze landed on a disheveled man hidden partially in the shadows. He sat on the steps leading to her office with his hand shading his eyes from the sun. Xander reached him before Gia did.

  “Can I help you?” Xander’s muscular frame towered over the man who scrambled to his feet extending a piece of paper in his dirty hand.

  “Nice to see you. I was told to give this to Gia Carter.” The man’s eyes landed on her and he smiled with all the rotten teeth he had left. Xander snatched it from the man’s grasp and unfolded it. After he skimmed the page, he apparently deemed it worthy to hand over to her.

  It read:

  My dearest Gia,

  Words can never express my sorrow and regret at having hurt you and insulted your friend. Please, forgive me. Here is a little something to show you that I’d really love a second chance at our friendship.

  Regretfully Yours,

  Grant

  A little something? Gia glanced up at the man on her stairs. Was he the “little something”? It’d be just like Grant to send her a “charity case” as a gift.

  “Do you need work?” Xander asked.

  He took a second and then nodded. “I also need forgiveness.” Then he burst into tears.

  Her heart broke as she took in his condition. “Let’s go inside.”

  Helping someone else didn’t feel like such a massive undertaking with Xander by her side.

  Chapter 11

  In some cases, having a partner to work with would double the workers’ productivity. In this instance, Xander’s ability to think halved thanks to Bob’s need to touch everything and utter non-stop apologies for ruining Xander’s life. The way his pupils formed pinpoints made Xander suspect his lucidity was compromised by any number of influences. Only Xander saying he forgave him would quiet Bob down. Xander had seen it a lot in prison. Drugs could really mess a guy’s head up.

  At lunch—due in large part to Xander’s pleading—Gia and Xander drove Bob to the house and all but pushed him into the shower and insisted he find new clothes that fit him from the closet. The rest of the afternoon, Bob’s attention span increased one hundred percent as they constructed seven children’s storage stools from the five-gallon mixing buckets.

  Paint the buckets. Tuck fabric around foam. Glue foam and fabric to the bucket’s lid. Let it dry. Tie a bow around the bucket’s middle or don’t. Repeat. The concept wasn’t difficult. And, according to Gia, what parent didn’t love cute storage for their kids’ toys?

  As they worked, Bob told Xander about his time in the military, how he’d struggled to reintegrate when he “escaped into society.” He described himself as a monster. No one understood his fears or nightmares. Their pat answers and easy fixes didn’t work on him. Here he was fighting the battle, chasing his demons away thirty years later.

  And the exorcism of choice was drugs. Bob had a chemistry degree that served him well in the army, but became his solution to fuel his addictions to dull the pain. Bootleggers had nothing on what he could produce in his garage in an evening.

  Xander could relate in a small way to no one understanding him. He wasn’t so far off himself. It wasn’t fair that guys like Bob had been ignored by society, and Xander felt the same as a released felon. Jobs, family, and friends didn’t really want much to do with him right now. Didn’t understand what he’d been through. But Bob, in his desperately childish way, did.

  When they finished at the end of the day, Bob accompanied Xander to d
rop off the stools at Carlos’s. There was a sense of pride in re-purposing trash into something worthwhile. Bob stood a little straighter, too.

  Today, Xander had the day to himself. Officer Fivelson rewarded Xander’s financial plan progress with a quick “good to see” and spared him another painful lecture by sending him on his way. For thirty minutes, the burning that twisted Xander’s core accompanied him from his reintegration office to the Weathersfield Institute of Mental Health. To get to the institute, he drove the same highway he’d hiked less than a week earlier. It felt like a lifetime ago he’d actually believed he could put his life back together. As they were now, his expectations were far higher than they should have been. Reality check—the likelihood of his mom’s doctor giving him answers weren’t good, but he planned to take every chance he could get at getting his family back.

  Gia told him earlier that morning about her call to her “Charlie Indigo”, her clever code name for the Salguod informant. He didn’t know anything offhand but promised to look into it and let her know. After five years, what was a few more days of waiting for answers?

  As he walked to the entrance, Xander examined the bright white building with a red roof surrounded by endless green. The hedges were trimmed to perfection beside a lawn, full and healthy. In the front entry, a rounded desk sat front and center. Two waterfalls cascaded into their tile bases on either side of the door and sparkled in the abundance of natural light. Someone probably made a killing off of cleaning all the windows in this place. If the repurposing didn’t work out, he knew what to try next.

  The man sitting at the desk offered Xander a wide smile as he approached. “Welcome to Weathersfield Institute. What can I do for you today?”

  Xander couldn’t remember the last time he’d been that perky. Glancing around he spotted a name tag on the top of the desk that said Carli Reynolds. Odd name for a guy, but he wouldn’t judge. “Hi Carli, I’d like to speak with Dr. Cantella. My mother is a patient of hers.”