by Leanne Davis
She got his point loud and clear, only she didn’t believe him for a second. She spun around and left things as up in the air as they’d started.
Jason Malone thought they were done.
She knew they were not.
Chapter Fourteen
The car stopped behind the back of the shop, pulling in crookedly and taking up two parking spots. The honking alerted half the shop mechanics. Heads popped out from under the multitude of cars being worked on inside the garage, Jason included. He was installing a new alternator on a minivan. He sighed and closed his eyes in defeat. Holy Christ, he didn’t want to do this. Not again. Not now. Not ever.
He slowly rose up off the fender and set his tools aside. He stepped around the car and the multitude of machinery lined up between the stalls. He stopped several feet back from Trent who shoved his car door shut.
“You lousy fucking son of a bitch.”
Yes, he was. And he deserved it from Trent. What was he supposed to do? Defend himself? But could he really stand here and let Trent do this?
Trent’s tie was gone. The top button of his gray shirt was undone and his cuffs were rolled up to his elbows. Had he done it in preparation of coming here to try and hit Jason? The thought amused him, yet made him feel like honey had replaced his blood. He felt slow and tired. He didn’t want to do this. He had no desire to confront Trent about anything. Ever. Their father. Their families. Their mothers. Christine. He especially didn’t want to discuss Christine.
“I see your father spoke to you. Look, it’s none of your business. Just go home, Trent. Or better yet, go talk to her. The answers you want are with her.”
Trent fisted his hands at his sides. “Do you have any idea what you did?”
“Did? Yeah, I know.” His answer sounded crude. He realized it after the words passed his lips. He didn’t mean it that way. He meant that he knew he had crossed a line he should have never crossed. Trent had every right to be here with his fists clenched and ready to go. With a sigh he added, “I did what she asked.”
They had the attention of the entire shop. He had worked with most of the crew for several years. They were slowly coming towards him, their backs stiff, ready to defend him with just a word. He silently shook his head and motioned for them all to leave. They nodded and all five of them left the service area and retreated towards the office. No doubt Bill would know soon. He really didn’t want to face Bill.
Just then another car roared in and came to a screeching halt beside Trent’s sports car. Jason shut his eyes and nearly groaned out loud. It was his father.
Terry got out with a lot more control than his son had. He kept his eyes glued first to Jason and then to Trent as he stepped between them.
Jason was struck to realize how right Christine had been: the three of them looked exactly alike. The thought made him step back in surprise.
Trent practically bared his teeth. “You shouldn’t have followed me, Dad.”
“You shouldn’t be here at all.”
“Yeah? And where should I be? I should let this asshole get away with ruining her?”
Ruining her? Jesus, it wasn’t like he deflowered a nun or something. He had simply done as she wanted. As he wanted. As two consenting adults. Sure, he hadn’t liked how it ended, but it had, as everyone would have predicted, ended.
Terry shook his head. “I should never have told you I saw her there.”
Trent stepped closer. “You should have told me the same damn day when you found her there. I could have stopped her from making the biggest mistake of her life. You should have fucking told me, Dad.”
Jason slowly extracted a cigarette from his pocket and lit it while he studied his brother with slow, thorough disdain. “Just go home. We’re not doing this. It’s over. Me and Christine. Me and you. You and Christine too, I hear. But it’s all over. So just go home.”
Trent stiffened. “You did this just to prove you could, didn’t you?”
Jason took a long, slow drag off the cigarette to keep his anger in check, to keep his fist to himself. To not do as he desired and slam his fist into that perfect chin his brother had. He wanted to damage it until Trent needed plastic surgery. That urge was why he so thoroughly milked the cigarette and pretended he had no reaction to any of this.
“Why would that be the reason?”
“Well, you sure didn’t do it out of feelings for her. I know you. I know what a scum-sucking drug-head you are. You did it to get back at me and Dad.”
He let out a long, slow breath. “Yeah, because what other reason would there be? Sure, yeah, I’m just doing cartwheels over how I got into the pants of your fiancée. Why, of course, isn’t that the only reason I could have had? Fuck off, both of you. It’s done. I’m done with this and with her. So just take your family reunion out of here.”
Trent started towards him. Jason braced, ready to catch Trent and simply put him in a choke hold to keep Trent from actually hitting him. He was not getting into a fist fight. Not with his brother. He just wasn’t doing it. He might be a lot of negative things, but hitting his own brother was not something he would do. No matter how much he pretended Trent was not, in fact, his brother.
Terry grabbed Trent first. He pushed him back until he was pinned against the side of Trent’s car. “Stop it. You can’t do this. You can’t take him.”
Trent pushed at his father. “I damn well can.”
Terry glanced at his Jason. “Please, just leave. Leave right now, and I’ll take Trent home. Just... please, go.”
Jason stiffened at Terry’s tone. His tone of total and utter disappointment. He flicked the cigarette butt to the shop floor. He’d get the honor of cleaning it up later anyway. He spun on his heel, only to stop dead when he came face to face with Christine’s pale, wide-eyed, horrified stare. She stood at the bottom of her staircase. He hadn’t paid attention that she had come home. Her hand clenched the rail for support. Her mouth was open as she stared first at him and then at Trent.
Fuck! How much had she heard? How much did she believe? He didn’t get a chance to know, for she was up her stairs before he could say her name out loud. He wasn’t prepared, then, when the hands shoved him from the back and pushed him to the ground.
****
The next morning Jason got up, reliving the day before with fresh, wincing displeasure. He glanced in the mirror at his fat lower lip, bruised left cheek, and black eye. His face was as messed up as his life. He’d screwed up before in his life. But this? This was beyond even him. How could he fix it, though?
He was rendered nearly immobile as he thought about Christine. Looking out his back window as he waited for the coffee to brew, he was again hit by the fact that there was nothing he could do to fix this. He wanted to, but had no idea how. He could picture her face as she stood there listening to him humiliate her. Possibly for this reason, for how in the wrong he’d been, he hadn’t lifted even a finger as Trent pushed him to the ground and proceeded to punch him three times before Terry was able to grab him and get him off Jason.
With a heavy heart, Jason showed up to work. Bill demanded an explanation the moment he saw Jason’s face. He reluctantly told Bill about what had happened. Miraculously, Bill had been off doing errands and had no awareness of the scuffle that had unfolded at his place of business. Bill swore at him and then told him to get out of the garage and go find Christine. “Talk to her. Apologize to her.”
It seemed so easy and logical when Bill had said it. Talk to her. Except Jason had no idea what to say to her. Or how he could possibly explain away what he’d done.
His first problem was that he had no idea where she worked. He drove around the streets of downtown Almstad looking for her car. At last he spotted it, and with a sigh, he opened the first store door near where she was parked.
He was on store number seven when he stepped into a shop so crowded with knick-knacks that he was sure the aisles weren’t wide enough for his shoulders to fit through. It was a man’s nightmare. Glass f
igurines in all kinds of shapes, sizes and themes covered mirrored shelves and frilly doilies.
A blonde woman was behind the counter talking on the phone. Jason carefully picked his way to the sales counter. He waited for the woman to finish her call. She hung up, straightening as she greeted Jason.
“Does Christine Andrews work here?”
“Why? Who are you to Christine Andrews?” the woman asked, eyeing him suspiciously as she studied his bruised face. His jaw was stiff to move and bruises surrounded his eye and nose, making him feel conspicuous. He now wondered why he’d let Trent hit him.
“I’m Jason Malone. If she’s here, she’ll know me.”
The lady eyed him. “One of the brothers, huh?”
He shifted uncomfortably. Brothers? What exactly had Christine told this lady?
“Yes.”
“Which one are you? The mayor’s son? Or the mechanic?”
Yeah, that summed them up. What was he supposed to say to that? “The mechanic. I’m the mechanic.”
This woman with the blonde hair and bright eyes was enjoying this. He had no choice but to go along with her because he needed to find Christine.
“Is she here?”
“Yes. But what’s going on? She was late to work and looks upset. Neither of which is like her.”
He bit his tongue to keep from saying it wasn’t any of this lady’s business. But he remembered Christine mentioning that her boss, Nora, was also becoming her friend.
“That’s why I’m here. Could you get her?”
“Well, okay, but only because she seems to normally like you. And you are awfully gorgeous under all those markings, I suspect.”
What did this lady know? And what was he supposed to say to her, “thank you”?
He waited next to the counter, his stomach suddenly in knots. This was not a situation he was used to. What would she do when she saw him?
The door from the back opened and Christine stepped through. She met his gaze. She looked tired. Her gaze was flat.
“What do you want?”
“I was hoping that we could talk about last night.”
“I don’t want to. I’m at work.”
“I know. I mean, of course I didn’t mean here. Maybe if you had a break or lunch, I could wait and we could talk then,” he said, feeling like a jackass, looking down at his toes rather than into her cold brown eyes.
“You want to wait for me so you can talk to me?”
He raised his gaze and nodded.
Silence. She tilted her head and bit her lip. “How did you even find me?”
“I found your car, and started at the end of the street.”
“You went to all that effort to talk to me?”
He shrugged. Why was she finding it so incredulous that he wanted to talk to her?
“Why aren’t you at work?”
“This is more important?”
“What is?”
“You. Talking to you.”
She studied him from the top of his forehead to his bruised cheek, black eye, and swollen lip. She seemed to be sizing him up in order to decide what to do. “You told Bill, then? I guess he’d wonder about your face.”
He nodded again.
She didn’t say anything.
“Please, Christine.”
She relented then, and told him to wait outside. Feeling a sense of relief and even some confidence because she was coming, he quickly stepped outside to wait. Taking a long breath he faced her when she came through the door. They looked at each other. What could he possibly say? It seemed like a canyon separated them.
And, unbelievably, it was up to him to find a bridge across it.
It was a sunny, pleasantly warm morning. He thought about taking her to a restaurant but wasn’t sure just what she’d say to him. He thought better of it and asked if she wanted to walk to the park where at least they’d be alone. She nodded and started walking without waiting for him. He fell into step beside her.
Her stiff, ramrod straight back made it clear he was not to touch her. Still, even just walking beside her, he was aware of her every move and the rustle of her clothes. She only came to mid-chest on him. How could someone so small feel so important to him just then?
They stopped in the park. She walked over to a bench that overlooked the small creek, away from anyone’s hearing range. She sat down then looked up at him, her eyebrows raised. He cleared his throat and met her expectant gaze.
“What you heard me say yesterday, it wasn’t what you think.”
“What? I somehow took what you said out of context?”
“No. I mean, I did say it how you heard it, but I was just making a point with Terry.”
“You were using me to make a point with Terry? What possible point could that be? That you screwed over Trent because I ended up screwing you? Oh wait, that’s what you always intended, isn’t it?”
He ran hand through his hair and shook his head in denial. “It wasn’t like that. It was never like that with us.”
“Then what? What the hell was it like?”
“I was angry, and I reacted. I’m sorry.”
“Are you? Are you really? Or have you been waiting all this time to tell them? To blurt out to the Gallaghers what you knew they suspected? I was the perfect way to get back at them, wasn’t I? But of course, I have no right to be mad, do I? You told me you were going to use me for this. Wasn’t that right? I should call you if I wanted to fuck? Well, I did that, didn’t I? This is all on me.Well done with the revenge.”
He took a step back when she looked up at him, her gaze suddenly livid. How could he possibly convince her it wasn’t that way? How could she ever believe him when there was no proof to his side of the story? She was right. He was in the wrong.
Visibly frustrated with his long silence, she snapped, “Spit it out!”
“I’m sorry,” he snapped back at her. He had no real belief that she’d forgive him or believe his reasons for what he’d said. Reasons that were far less sinister and far less hurtful to her than her conclusion; that he’d purposely set about to use her and then fling her into his family’s face. But how could he possibly convince her of that?
He put his hands into his pockets in frustration until he found the gum. He took it out, unwrapped it and slid it into his mouth. It didn’t help. She tilted her head and looked at him strangely.
“What are you doing?”
“I need a cigarette,” he said. He had to control the urge to snap at her.
“Then have one.”
“I’m trying to quit. I have this patch thing and I’m supposed to chew gum or something instead.” He lifted up his sleeve to show her he was telling the truth.
She went still as she seemed to consider the little tan patch on his arm. Why did she seem to care so much?
“Since yesterday? You’ve been trying to quit smoking since yesterday?”
He shrugged, kicking a rock at his feet. It seemed the least he could do after the humiliation he’d doled out yesterday. “I don’t know. It just seemed to bother you so much. I never really cared before. I guess you’re right about it killing me.”
She stared at him and then sighed. “You are the most difficult man I’ve ever met.”
“What do you mean?”
She shook her head and leaned back on the bench. Somehow his standing there, chewing the worthless gum, and miserable under her scrutiny seemed to diffuse some of her anger. He took her softening as a sign to continue.
“Look, I messed up. I didn’t want to confront them. And when they started in, I just... reacted. They just always assume the worst, and I’ve always played up the worst. It’s what I do with them. I’ve always done it. Believe me, I see why I shouldn’t have done it yesterday. I just wasn’t prepared for it. And I didn’t handle it well. But none of it was premeditated on my part.”
“Well, thanks for clearing up what happened between us so explicitly for Trent. Really, Jason, I appreciate it. Now not only you, but both Trent
and Terry think I’m a two-timing slut.”
He shuffled his feet. God, she was so mad. “I’m sorry as hell. I should have walked away sooner. I should have never even let it get started. But there was no revenge plot or plan on my end. It was just me, losing my temper.”
She was quiet.
“And the last thing I ever intended was to use you against them.”
She looked off towards the water. “But you did. You used me against them.”
“Yes, I did. I used you against them. If I could undo it, I would.”
She stared at him for what felt like minutes. “You didn’t plan to? Even in the beginning?”
“No. Never. I didn’t intend to ever tell them I knew who you were.”
“Then why did you bother sleeping with me? If I was the cause of so much grief for you, and you didn’t want to use me to get back at the Gallaghers, why, then, did you bother with me? Surely there are a lot less complicated women you could get involved with.”
“Yes.”
“Then why?”
“Because.”
He could feel her looking at him but he couldn’t find the courage to look her in the eye. She wanted more. She wanted an answer. She was silent then for a long pregnant moment, then she let out a long breath. Her head turned away from him. Her hands dug deeper into her slacks.
“I believe you didn’t set it all up. I believe you lost your temper and didn’t really mean to hurt me. But just for the record you did hurt me.”
He flinched at her honesty, and then searched her face, surprised with how quickly she had forgiven him.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know,” she said softly. She stood and squared her shoulders. “You’re off the hook. There’s nothing more to say.”
She turned and started walking away.
Before he thought about it he took the few steps forward to reach out, grab her forearm, and spin her around.
“What do you mean, I’m off the hook?”
“Thank you for the apology, but nothing else has changed. You were right. We are a terrible idea.”
He stepped back in surprise. Now she thought he was right? He didn’t think he was so right anymore. He didn’t expect her to dismiss him. Not after this. And not with all these feelings he had towards her, swirling around his gut.