A Thousand Cuts (CELL BLOCK C)

by Melissa Toppen

  Matt is what I would call a pretty boy. Tall. Athletic. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Perfect sun kissed skin, even though we live in Michigan which has more cold days than warm ones. And while I’m perfectly aware of how attractive he is, I’ve never really felt a spark between the two of us.

  “Sure you do,” he says sarcastically. “I guess if your definition of fun is work, school, work, school, then yes, you’re a natural born party animal.”

  “We can’t all live the charmed life.”

  “I wouldn’t say my life is charmed, but it sure as hell is a lot more interesting than yours,” he teases.

  “On that note.” I stop next to my car. “I guess I’ll see you Thursday?” I ask as Matt continues on toward his SUV, two spaces over.

  Our cars are another perfect example of the differences between our worlds. Mine is an old Malibu that’s been on its last leg for months. His is a brand-new Subaru that his parents bought for him.

  Some people get all the luck.

  “Yep, see you then,” he calls back, disappearing inside the shiny vehicle moments later.

  I let out a heavy breath and pull my door open, cringing when it scrapes and squeals like it’s about to fall off the hinges. Tossing my book bag into the passenger seat, I slide behind the steering wheel and close the door.

  I’ve just jammed the key into the ignition when a knock on my window startles me. I jump and glance to the side, Matt’s straight, too white teeth the first thing I see.

  “Jeez,” I mutter, trying to calm my sudden rapid heartbeat as I roll down the window. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

  “Sorry.” He chuckles. “I just realized I have nothing to do for the rest of the day. Do you wanna hit up Chelsea’s for ice cream and catch an afternoon movie?”

  The invite is tempting. It’s not every day that I have an afternoon off work, and it is only one-thirty. But I also know I need to get a head start on this English paper if I want any hopes of finishing it on time.

  At the same time, the thought of going home is not something that sits well with me, either. After the weekend I had, it’s the last place I want to be.

  I successfully avoided Ryland the entire day Sunday, but I doubt I’ll be able to keep it up for long. It’s not like I can just live in my bedroom. Then again, that’s where I’ve always spent the majority of my time.

  I go back and forth for a few seconds before finally deciding that I could use some time out with a friend.

  “You know what, that actually sounds perfect.” I smile, pulling the keys out of the ignition. I’m sure Matt will want to drive. Not that I can blame him. If I had his car I wouldn’t want to ride in mine either.

  Grabbing cash and my cell out of the front pocket of my book bag, I roll the window back up before shoving the door open and climbing out.

  “Would you mind swinging me by Jim’s Auto Repair on our way? I need to drop some money off to Finn. I got paid this morning and I’d rather give it to him so he can stop at the bank after work,” I ask, sliding the small stack of bills into my front pocket.

  “Yep, we can do that.” He nods, following me to his SUV.

  “Also, you’re going to need to feed me lunch before you stuff me full of ice cream.” I smile when he pulls the passenger door open for me.

  “So demanding.” He huffs playfully, waiting until I’m settled in my seat before closing the door.

  “What can I say, I need sustenance,” I jest once he’s sitting in the driver’s seat next to me.

  “Any place in particular?” he asks, firing the engine to life.

  “Nah, just surprise me.”

  “You got it.” He winks, popping the car into drive.

  ——

  “Do you want me to go in with you?” Matt asks, backing into a parking spot outside of Jim’s.

  The shop is packed today, with a line of cars wrapping around the entire garage waiting to be serviced.

  “Yeah, if you don’t mind. I hate going in there by myself.” Not that the guys at the shop are bad people or anything, but some of them have wandering eyes that make me feel a little uncomfortable anytime I have to walk through the garage.

  “Not a problem.” He kills the engine and follows me out of the car.

  “This shouldn’t take but a second.”

  “We’re not in any rush.” He shrugs casually, pulling open the glass door that leads into the lobby for me.

  Tellers, Jim’s teenage nephew, is working the front desk, per usual. After getting into several fights at school, his mom decided to home school him for his last year of high school, which equates to him working the front desk at her brother’s shop while he ‘attends’ school online.

  He offers me a simple nod as we enter.

  “Finn in the back?” I ask, getting another nod before his eyes go back to the computer in front of him.

  “He’s talkative,” Matt grumbles behind me as we make our way into the large, and rather noisy garage.

  “He’s a troubled kid. I feel bad for him,” I say, veering off toward the far-right station of the garage where Finn usually works.

  The shop isn’t Finn’s only job, but it’s his longest running employment and the one that offers the most hours each week. Therefore also brings in the brunt of his income. In addition to working here, he also does some roofing work with a buddy and bartends at Moe’s on an on-call basis.

  When I spot the lower half of someone sticking out from underneath the hood of a supped-up Mustang, I hold my finger up to my lips to make sure Matt stays quiet before tip toeing around the car.

  “What are you doing?” I yell, causing Finn to jump and knock his head on the underside of the hood.

  “What the hell, Ains?” he grumbles, emerging from under the hood, rubbing the back of his head.

  “Sorry.” I laugh. “I couldn’t help myself.”

  He shakes his head at me before his eyes move to Matt.

  “You remember Matt from school, right?” I ask, my gaze sliding to the guy standing next to me.

  “Yep.” Finn nods. “How’s it going, Matt?” he asks, tossing a grease covered rag over his shoulder.

  “It’s going well. Ainsley and I were just about to grab lunch and catch a movie.”

  “Sounds like fun.” His attention comes back to me. “Did you need some money or something?” he asks, clearly not remembering that today is Monday, which is when I typically bring him money after the restaurant cashes out our checks for us.

  It’s not much, considering I make less than five dollars an hour, but it’s my contribution toward the bills. My tips are where I make the most money, and that gets used for school expenses, gas, food, and any extras I need.

  “When was the last time I asked you for money?” I give him a knowing look. I may not make much but I make enough to pay for my own stuff. “I wanted to give you money so I’m not walking around with it in my pocket.” I dig the bills out of my jeans and extend them to him. “It’s only one–twenty, but it should cover the electric bill if you want to stop and deposit it on your way home.”

  “Oh shit. I forgot it’s Monday.” He snags his wallet out of his back pocket before shoving the bills inside.

  “Hey, Finn, what was that part number again?” I turn to see Ryland round the other side of the car. “I can’t find it so I’m thinking I either wrote the wrong number down or we’re out and are going to have to order it.” He looks up from the piece of paper in his hand, freezing when he catches sight of me.

  He looks temporarily caught off guard but quickly regains his composure as he offers me a small nod before his eyes go to Matt.

  He stares at him for a long moment before Finn’s voice pulls him back to the matter at hand.

  “C7849,” Finn rambles off the part number by memory. It’s no wonder he remembers this stuff. He’s been working here since high school.

  “Okay.” Ryland glances down at the paper. “Yeah, we’re going to have to order this part. You want me to call the ow
ner and let him know it’s going to be a couple of days?”

  “Yeah.” Finn steps back from the car and shuts the hood. “Just tell him we’ll give him ten percent off for the wait.”

  “Will do.” Ryland nods, quickly spinning around and heading back in the direction of the office without looking in my direction again.

  “Since when does he work here?” I wait until he’s out of earshot to ask.

  “Since today.” Finn grabs the rag off his shoulder and wipes his hands.

  “Let me guess, you got him the job?” I cross my arms over my chest.

  “I did.” He squares his shoulders. “You need to stop giving him such a hard time. The man has spent the last five years in prison. Cut him a little slack.”

  “Why should I? He made his own bed. Now he can lie in it,” I clip.

  “I’m serious, Ainsley. I understand you’re angry but you need to start letting this go. For everyone’s sake. He did what he did. It’s over now. He’s not going anywhere and neither are you, so you need to find a way to deal with him being back.”

  “I don’t...” I start, but Finn holds up a hand, cutting me off.

  “I’m not discussing this here.” His eyes dart behind me and only then do I realize that a couple of the other guys are working on a car not too far from us and can likely hear every word. “Just think about what I said.”

  “Fine,” I grumble, turning to Matt. “Are you about ready to get out of here?”

  “Whenever you are.” He nods.

  “I guess I’ll see you at home later,” I tell Finn, spinning toward the exit.

  “Okay. You two have fun.”

  “We will,” I holler over my shoulder, making a beeline for the door.

  When Ryland steps out of the office as we’re approaching, I loop my arm through Matt’s and tug him closer. Matt, who clearly has no idea what I’m doing, throws a lifted eyebrow in my direction.

  I give him a wide smile and a look that says play along, before turning my attention forward.

  I have no idea what I’m trying to accomplish by flaunting Matt in front of Ryland, but I do it anyway. Maybe in some way I’m hoping to get a reaction out of him, although I’m not entirely sure why. If I despise him as much as I tell everyone I do, why the hell do I care what he thinks about me walking arm in arm with another guy?

  “Ainsley,” Ryland says my name as we pass.

  “Ryland,” I return, not missing the way his jaw clenches when his gaze goes to Matt.

  My inner cheerleader does a backflip.

  No matter how much I try to pretend I hate Ryland, deep down I know I could never hate him. I can hate what he did. I can hate that he left. But I can’t hate him.

  Because somewhere, buried deep, there still lives a piece of the girl I used to be. A girl who gave her heart to a man who didn’t even know he had it. And that girl, she still loves Ryland Thorpe. Honestly, I think maybe she always will.

  I can feel Ryland’s eyes on us long after we’ve passed and I have to physically restrain myself from turning around to prove myself right.

  “Who was that?” Matt gives me a questioning look as we hit the parking lot and head toward his car.

  “Who?” I play stupid, even though I know he’s not stupid.

  “Really, Ainsley? You couldn’t have been more obvious if you had tried.” He releases my arm seconds before opening my door for me. Always the gentleman. “The guy you were clearly trying to make jealous.”

  “I wasn’t trying to make him jealous.”

  “Sure you weren’t.” He chuckles. “I may not be the quickest person in the world, but even I picked up on the weird tension between you two. From what you were saying to Finn, I got the impression you don’t care for him. But if that’s the case, why parade me through the garage like a trophy?”

  “I was not parading you. I was just trying to make a point. And I don’t care for him. He just got out of jail and is staying with us and I’m not very happy about it.” I snap my seat belt into place, trying to appear completely natural even though I feel like anything but.

  Every interaction with Ryland rattles me. It always has.

  “You’re sure that’s it?” He studies me for a long moment.

  “I’m sure. Now can we go already? I’m starving.” I rub my stomach dramatically.

  Matt doesn’t look completely convinced but he decides not to push the issue further. It’s not like we’re the kind of friends that tell each other everything. We’re more of the casual, hang out when it’s convenient, type of friends. And those types of friends I do not share things as intricate and fragile as my relationship with Ryland Thorpe.

  “Have you decided what you’re in the mood for?” he asks a few moments later as he settles into the driver’s seat.

  “I already told ya, surprise me.”

  “You say that, but the last time I tried to surprise you, you didn’t seem too impressed.”

  “That’s because you took me to a restaurant so upscale I had to wear a dress. But you know me a lot better now, and you know what I would probably like and what I wouldn’t. So, you pick. And make it good.”

  “Gahhh, it’s too much pressure.” He laughs.

  “Tell you what. Name three types of food that sound good and I’ll pick the one that sounds the best. That should at least help you narrow it down.”

  “I like that idea.” He starts the car. “Chinese, pizza, or subs,” he quickly rambles off.

  “Hmmm. That’s a tough one.” I tap my chin. “On one hand, I love Chinese food. But, pizza is usually my go to. Then again, I wouldn’t hate a sub right now.”

  “Oh my god, woman, just pick already.” Laughter rumbles through his voice.

  “Subs,” I announce.

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure. Considering most sub restaurants are on the same caliber, I think it’s the one choice you’re least likely to screw up,” I tease.

  “You’re probably right.” He chuckles, popping the car into gear before slowly pulling out of the parking spot.

  I’m giggling over our conversation when I catch sight of Ryland standing in the lobby, his gaze trained on me and Matt as we pull away.

  I can’t help but look back as we pull out onto the street, but I lose sight of him too quickly to really gauge his expression. Considering the lobby of the shop is floor to ceiling windows, I have no doubt that he could see us from where he was standing. The only real question is, was he watching us and if so, why?

  It’s a question that nags at me through lunch and ice cream, and is still weighing on my mind as we settle into the movie theater.

  My mind drifts back to Saturday night. The way Ryland looked at me. How his eyes darkened when they dropped to my lips. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he wanted to kiss me as badly as I wanted him to. And yet, for reasons I’m not sure I entirely understand, I shut the door in his face.

  I’ve waited my entire life to have Ryland look at me that way and yet as he stood there, every single warning bell was blaring in my head.

  Because no matter how badly a part of me still wants him, I know that I can’t have him. Even if the stars aligned and he decided he felt the same way, it would never work. There’s too much history. Too much distrust.

  I don’t think I could ever look at him the way I did before he was arrested. Back then, he couldn’t do any wrong. I think maybe that’s why it was so hard for me to accept what he did. And again, it wasn’t the drugs. Yes, I was hurt and shocked to find out he was caught dealing, especially given everything that happened with my mom, but it was that he involved Finn that hit me the hardest.

  In that moment he had no regard for me or my future. A man that I would have literally died for, jeopardized everything I held dear so he could make a quick buck.

  I know that’s where all my anger stems from. That when it all boiled down, I simply did not matter enough. Even to this day the thought is debilitating.

  Finn’s right. I need to fi
nd a way to move past this. But not for Ryland. For myself. I have to find a way to let this go... To let him go. The way I should have done years ago.

  Chapter 8

  Ryland

  “Fuck.” I tear my hand out of the engine, seeing blood already running down my palm.

  Not sure what I cut my finger on, I grab the roll of paper towels on the cart next to me and tear a couple off before wrapping them around the decent size cut that extends half the length of my index finger.

  Today may have started out as a good day, but it quickly turned south. Starting when Ainsley showed up here with that Ken doll on her arm.

  I’ve never seen her with a guy before. When I went away, she hadn’t started dating yet. In fact, I don’t ever remember her even expressing interest in anyone. At least not that she ever told me. But seeing her today with that guy, I don’t know how to describe my feelings.

  I’d like to say that it was just my protectiveness of her kicking in. That the only reason I wanted to smash that pretty boy’s face in is because he’s not good enough for Ainsley. And while that might be partially true, I know it’s not the only reason I reacted the way I did.

  I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t looked at Ainsley when she was younger and thought about how pretty she was or how lucky the guy who ended up with her was going to be. But the thoughts were always in a brotherly way. Or so I thought.

  But how I felt today? There was nothing brotherly about it. And the thought should bother me a hell of a lot fucking more than it does.

  “Shit, dude. You okay?” Finn steps up next to me, his eyes swinging to the bloody paper towel wrapped around my finger.

  “Yeah, just nicked it on something.”

  “Jim’s got a first aid kit in the office. Go grab you a bandage.” He nods his head in the direction of the back office.

  “Yeah, I’ll do that.” I wait a beat before asking, “Did you see that guy Ains was with? He looked like a Ken doll.”

  “Right.” Finn chuckles. “That’s Matt. Not really sure what the deal is with them. Ainsley says their just friends. I’m not sure she would tell me if there was something else going on, though. She’d probably be afraid I’d scare him off.”