by Rae, Harloe
Such a pathetic fucking martyr.
The wrench I’m holding slips and drops onto the knuckles of my toes. Even through the thick leather of my boots, a blast of pain explodes instantly. “Son of a bitch damned to hell. Mother fucking piece of shit.”
Another colorful rainbow of curses flings off my tongue as I hop on one foot. I can’t even do my damn job without causing damage. The intense throbbing settles into a pulsing ache. That offensive tool gleams under the fluorescent spotlights and I whip it outside in a boomerang arch. I toss a handful of discarded clamps into the box, metal clanging against wood with a dull thud. The noise matches the listless beat inside of me. Each moment pumps slower than the last. I’m stuck in quicksand and only wasting energy by struggling. My injury is already forgotten as familiar regret seeps in. The words spin and spin until I can’t ignore them.
Fuck, what did I do?
A similar version of the same question has been plaguing me for days. I could pull my head out of my ass. We can clean up this mess. There’s a possibility they’ll forgive me. I should’ve fought for them like Keegan begged me to. Instead, I limped away to lick my wounds in private. Some fucking good that’s doing me.
Eating is a chore. Sleeping is worse. Visions of Millie crying and Keegan’s fractured emerald stare keep me awake. Such a courageous move. Self-sacrifice. This is my penance for being a selfish prick. If only my father could see his handiwork. I’m sure he’d be so proud.
But the fallout is all on me. I’m to blame. This state of misery is entirely my fault. Am I going to admit defeat, tuck tail, and plead for a second (or third) chance? Absolutely not. It wasn’t a lie when I told Keegan she deserves better. Saddling her to an asshole who carelessly casts aside happiness is a larger injustice than I’m willing to commit.
I glance over at the one companion who’s forced to remain faithful. Patch has been shunning me, as if she somehow knows of the crimes I’ve committed. She’s slumped in her bed and steadily avoiding all attempts at interaction from me. How bad is it when even my dog is mad at me? That almost causes a bump of humor to batter at the fog of sorrow. But the weak attempt falls flat.
Loud rumbling streaks through the suffocating silence. I turn to watch as the growl of an approaching motorcycle interrupts my sniveling pity party. A hum of déjà vu rattles against my skull as two vehicles come into view.
Delaney leads the duo in her red coupe with Decker following close behind on his Harley. Even from deep inside the garage, I can see the deep scratches cutting into the usually flawless paint on his tank. Well, that’s definitely new.
Patch perks up at their arrival. She trots to Decker’s side and lingers for a few scratches behind her ears. Guess she’s not pissed at the entire male population. She’s reserving all the ire for me.
I stride to the edge of the stall, waiting with my arms crossed and a scowl firmly in place. Decker hops off his wrecked chopper with the grin he’s known for. He walks toward me with a pep in his step. His fiancée is more hesitant, her shuffling gait exposing guilt. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to formulate an educated guess on how the damage occurred. Patch nudges Delaney’s hand, earning a laugh and another rub to her furry head. It’s good to know my dog is accepting affection from everyone but me.
When Decker is close enough to get a decent look at me, the simple ease falls from his features. He studies me, almost recoiling from the sight. “Dude, you look like shit.”
I snort, narrowing my eyes into a glare. “Hilarious. Did Erik tell you to say that?”
Deep grooves carve the space between his brows. “Nah, I came up with that all on my own. What’s up, Ford?”
“Same old shit.” I nod toward his dinged ride. “I can see why you’re here.”
Decker waves off my words. “We’ll get to that in a minute. Why does it look like someone took a dump in your Frosted Flakes?”
“Not sure what you mean.” The lie is sticky on my tongue.
“Does this have anything to do with Keegan and Millie?”
“Nope.” I rip my eyes from his, finding a particularly interesting grease spot to focus on.
Delaney seems to perk up, most likely due to the attention being cast over me instead of her misdeed. “Ah, come on. It’s no secret you’ve been spending time with them. You can tell us, Ford.”
I grind my bruised foot into the ground. The shot of pain zaps up my leg. “Nothing to say. We had some fun. Now it’s over. End of.”
“I highly doubt that,” Decker chuckles.
“Nah, we’re done. I made sure of that.”
They exchange a look. If I was fluent in the secret language of couples, their silent exchange might make more sense. Delaney flicks her gaze to mine. “How bad is the wreckage?”
I peer around them into the gravel lot. “Are we talking about Decker’s cruiser?”
He taps his temple. “No, your mental wellbeing.”
“Think I’m crazy?”
His chest shakes with a chuckle. “Well, I wasn’t planning to be so blunt.”
“I’m fine. It wasn’t anything serious to begin with. Ending things was for the best.” The damn irony isn’t lost on me. I wouldn’t accept that bullshit answer from Keegan.
Delaney squints at me while nudging her fiancé. “Sure, I can see that.”
“All right, fine. We’ll quit sniffing at your personal business.” He pauses, as if I’m going to suddenly change my mind about spilling the secrets wedged inside of me.
I lift my chin, staring him down. Good luck, buddy.
Decker sighs, glancing at his future wife. “She hurt my baby, Ford.”
“Oh, please. The machine is fine.” Delaney swipes at the air, as if batting away a gnat.
“You treated her poorly, Dell. She needs to be handled with care,” he scolds.
She pops out her hip. “Well, I wasn’t properly prepared for how complicated it is to downshift.”
“Are you suggesting this is my fault?”
She twists her lips. “You were teaching me how to drive. I tipped us over. We can share the blame.”
“That’s not how things went down. Literally.”
Delaney huffs and rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. It was an accident.”
“I sure hope you wouldn’t do this on purpose.” He gives her a side-eye full of inquisition.
She quirks a brow. “Don’t underestimate a jealous woman.”
Decker reaches over and squeezes her waist. “Not funny, Dell.”
“No?” She wiggles her fingers toward his torso. “Bet I can make you laugh.”
“I wouldn’t try it,” he growls.
She doesn’t heed to his warning. They tumble together in a mass of squirming limbs and lewd noises. Dammit, here we go again. A white-hot stake drives through my chest and I nearly hiss from the burn. My misery craves company and these two aren’t cutting it.
I cough into my fist until their writhing ceases. “I can get started on your bike right away, Deck. You can pick it up at the end of this week.”
He pulls away from Delaney with a labored exhale. Her cheeks are rosy. His shirt is rumpled. They need to get a damn room far away from me.
Decker drags a palm over his hair. “Uh, okay. You won’t need more time?”
“That’s plenty already. Nothing else to do around here except fix bikes.”
Delaney frowns. “Want me to put in a good word for you?”
“Please don’t,” I mutter. The gaping sore spreads faster through my gut at the thought alone.
“Let’s take a hint, Dell.” He steers her toward the parked coupe. “Thanks again, Ford. I’ll come by Friday and check on your progress.”
I tip the brim of my hat at them. “See you then.”
The handsy couple drives off in a cloud of lust-scented dust. I fan the sickly-sweet notion away from my face. Heaven forbid those fumes are contagious. That’s the last damn thing I need. My sorry ass is already pining over a woman who I made untouchable.
Just as I’m about to resume wallowing in private, the roar of pipes cracks through the silence. Who the fuck else is paying me a social visit? The shadows of isolation break apart as my next guest nears closer. I let my jaw drop when no other than Grady Bowen crests the hill of my driveway.
The biker cuts his engine along the front of my shop. He’s alone, which I hear is rare nowadays. Grady removes his helmet and comes over to stand beside me.
We’re quiet for a moment, sizing one another up. I flick my gaze to his seemingly impeccable motorcycle. “Need some work done?”
“Nah, she’s running solid. Just dropping by to say hello.”
I stare at him, waiting for the punchline. He doesn’t follow that up with a joke, though. “Huh, all right. Well, hey.”
He scratches at his scruffy jaw. “You got any beer?”
A snort scrapes out of me. “It’s gonna be that type of conversation?”
“Absolutely.”
“I have a few in the cooler. Grab a seat.” I motion to the chairs folded up against the wall.
Grady has an empty spot waiting for me when I return. He’s taking advantage of the open space, legs spread wide while reclining deep and low. I drop my ass onto the canvas seat with a groan. The shitty craftsmanship creaks under my weight.
He takes the outstretched bottle from me. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem.” I take a swig, gulping down another for good measure. “So, what’s up?”
“Did you know Keegan is close with Sutton’s family?”
I almost reel back from the unexpected blindside. With a heavy exhale, I force my expression to go slack. “Kinda,” I mumble. “She might’ve mentioned something along those lines once or twice.”
“Then you’re aware of the shitstorm I’ve been hearing about for nearly a week.”
“Okay.” The non-answer neither confirms nor denies my very dense involvement.
“I’m going to need more dedication from you, Ford.”
This guy is nosy as fuck, considering I can count the number of prior conversations we’ve had on one hand. “Not sure what this has to do with you.”
“Aren’t you listening? Keegan is friends with Sutton. Therefore, I’ve been hearing all about how awful men are. Dude, you’re making us all look bad.”
I gape at him. “Uh, sorry?”
“Are you really?”
“No.”
“What the fuck, Ford? Don’t you have any pride for brotherhood?”
Not since my actual brother abandoned me. But Grady doesn’t need to hear that sob story. “Do you?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
That’s news to me. Last I recall, this guy isn’t a huge people person. If anyone can understand my reasoning, it should be him. “I live off the grid for a reason.”
“I’ll remember that next time you need a favor.”
“Noted.” Erik was wrong to point me in Grady’s direction. Good thing I didn’t follow through. He doesn’t get it.
He grunts, tipping his face toward the sky. “So, I’m gonna need you to fix this.”
“Not sure I’m following.” I swallow another mouthful of the hoppy brew.
His eyes roll to mine. “You broke up with Keegan, right?”
“I mean, we weren’t really dating.”
“Yes, you certainly were.”
Something dark twists inside of my stomach. I normally like this guy, but his invasive assumptions are rubbing at my raw nerves. “Not sure it really matters. We aren’t seeing each other anymore.”
“Right. That’s the part I need you to repair.” Grady points at me.
I sit there for a moment, completely caught off guard. My sluggish mind scrambles to catch up and formulate a worthy retort. “Are you trying to convince me to patch things up with Keegan?”
A sharp jerk of his chin. “Yes.”
“Listen, Grady. I appreciate the advice and all.” That’s a steaming pile of garbage. “But my relationship or whatever I had with Keegan is over.”
“I think you should reconsider.”
“Yeah, I’m getting that vibe from you.”
Grady turns to the side, staring me down. “What’s the issue?”
“Do you want a list? How about she deserves better than me and we don’t belong together.”
“Quit being an idiot, Ford. If I can win the girl, you sure as hell can.”
I tug my hat down lower. “I highly doubt that.”
“Stop arguing with me while you’re at it.”
Drinking a beer has never been so labor intensive. I’m almost out of hot air from this waste of an exchange. “Well, this has been…fun. I appreciate you coming by and all, but this is my choice to make.”
“And how is that going for you?”
“Just great, thanks for asking. I’m capable of managing my problems, however fucked up you think those methods are.”
He tosses me a look that reeks of suspicion. “I’m not the one moping around like a rotting sack of potatoes. We can smell your stench for miles, even hiding all the way out here in the woods.”
I can’t control the chuckle that tumbles from my straining throat. “Damn, dude. You’re kind of a dick.”
He smiles against the lip of his bottle. “Thanks for noticing.”
“Did y’all plan this?”
“Who?”
“You and Deck, banding together to lecture me?”
“Hardly, Ford. We’re not creative enough to plan a mutual intervention.” It’s his turn to laugh. The gritty notes sound horribly out of tune.
“Are you doing this outta some obligation?”
“Not exactly. But a happy wife motivates a man.”
“I see.”
Grady’s brow rises. “Do you?”
“Not in that way.”
“You’ve got a long road ahead if that’s your attitude.”
“I’m well aware.”
“And you’re really okay with this?” He motions around the quiet yard.
I scan the seemingly endless woods. No sign of civilization for miles. “There isn’t much of a choice.”
“Holy shit, dude. Yes, there is. Get off your high horse and apologize.”
That sinking sensation of sludge in my veins drowns me in the glaring facts. Keegan and Millie are better off without me. “Not gonna happen, Grady.”
He holds up his palms. “All right, man. Don’t say I didn’t try.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Grady grunts again while brushing off his jeans. “You’re more stubborn than me. I can appreciate that.”
“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Whatever makes you feel better. Good talk, Ford.” He claps me on the back.
Was it? I’m feeling a tad coerced after the last two hours of judgments. Talk about putting a man on the spot. “That’s all?”
“Nothing else to say.” His sudden departure seems rushed as fuck.
“Okay, then. Have a good one, man.”
Grady offers me a salute over his shoulder as he walks away. “Oh, I will. I held up my end of the bargain. Sutton gets to return the favor when I get home. Sure is nice having the comfort of a good woman waiting for me. Wish I could say the same for you.”
I flip off his retreating form. Such an asshole.
Healing Hug #26: When trying to forget about boys, rely on extra doses of girl power.
I move to another rack and begin aimlessly sliding the hangers from right to left. The chic collection of clothes all blend together in a blob of colors. My vision blurs to match these potential wardrobes. We’ve been at Meadow Kisses for under an hour, but it feels like an entire morning has been wasted. Retail therapy isn’t helping. Similar to the epic failures of ice cream, cheesy movies, and triple my usual hazelnut coffee servings. With extra vanilla.
The flowery perfume they infuse in this small space is giving me a headache. I check the clock on my phone again. Only three minutes have
passed. The seconds must be stuck in molasses. What are the chances we can leave soon? I glance over my shoulder to find Millie and Josey giggling near a heaping display of bathing suits. A twinge cramps my belly at the reminder of the last time we went swimming. I rub at the spasm, but the sensation only spreads.
In the wide scope of things, Crawford was barely around long enough to be considered a blip on the radar. But in the month we spent together, that man weaved himself deeply into our lives. He seems to have unraveled himself just as quickly. The holes he left behind can’t be so easily repaired, though. I haven’t heard a word, even for Millie’s sake. It’s official. That rat bastard doesn’t have a heart.
“Are you having fun?”
I blink at my friend. How did she get in front of me so fast? “Um, sure?”
Josey crosses her arms. “Liar. You haven’t picked a single thing to try on.”
She’s right, of course. I’m physically present, but my mind is miles away in the woods with a certain reclusive mechanic. Damn Crawford and all his irresistible hotness. I rub my temples, repeating a mantra to forget all about him.
He’s just a guy. A careless asshat without feelings. Some lonely jerk who can’t be bothered to say goodbye to his biggest fan. That little girl is who I need to focus on. That guy isn’t worth my tears or thoughts or regrets.
A strong grip on my shoulders snaps me out of the trance. Josey is studying me with intense scrutiny. “Why do you look so weird?”
I plaster a fake-ass grin on my face. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“There’s something strange happening here.” She traces an invisible circle around my facial features.
“Oh, this?” I point to my expression. “It’s my brave face.”
She quirks a brow. “No one is believing that.”
“It’s working so far.” I shrug, flicking imaginary lint off my shirt.
“Well, not for me.”
“Me either, Mama.” Millie pops out of seemingly nowhere. Was she hiding in a rack?