Scrap Metal (Midwest Kisses Book 1)

by Jennah Scott

  “You’re not telling me anything about Trey that I didn’t already know. He chose your work, that’s enough for me to trust his judgment. What I don’t understand is why you think I’ll leave you because some lowlife conned you into doing a piece for him.”

  Ryke’s understanding and trust in Trey made Angel’s eyes burn with tears. He gave her too much credit. He’d understand soon why she’d done the piece.

  “I’m getting there. So anyway, Eric needed art. Since he didn’t have a creative bone in his body he needed someone dumb enough to create the piece and put his name on it. That schlep was me.”

  “Why?”

  “An art contest gone wrong. I won the contest because I slept with one of the judges. Eric knew about the whole thing since he and the judge were buddies. It was a one-night stand, but that didn’t matter. Once Eric found out what I’d done he promised to spread the news across the community. I couldn’t let him do that, it would have ruined any chance I had at getting my art in front of people.”

  “Was it the truth? Did you sleep with the judge to win? What was the contest?”

  Panic started to set in. Ryke’s questions came one right after the other. This was the moment Angelica waited for. Damn it. She hadn’t wanted to get this close again before she had to leave. Now it hurt even worse when he backed away from her.

  It was then she realized that a small part of her hoped Ryker would give her the benefit of the doubt, that he’d trust she didn’t know at the time he was a judge. But she had. That wasn’t why she slept with him though.

  “I did sleep with him, but not to win. It was a national contest with a grand prize in the high five-figure range. You have to believe me when I say I didn’t sleep with him just to get a chance at the money.”

  “Then why did you sleep with him if you knew he was a judge?”

  Her chin fell to her chest. Angel didn’t have an answer for him, at least not one that would make this situation any better.

  “Because it was one night. I was lonely and he was there. We started talking at the bar, just strangers. Until I mentioned my sculpting. He said he was an artist too. One thing led to another and he was telling me about the contest. Honest, it was just coincidence. Except I guess he didn’t see it that way. Otherwise he wouldn’t have told Eric, or at least not made as big of a deal over it.”

  “Why didn’t you say something to the contest organizers when you found out?”

  That was problem number one. Ryke didn’t lie. He’d told her that. And not only did she accuse him of still doing it, she was then pointing out that she’d done exactly what he refused to do.

  “The act was done, the contest was over. I guess I figured it wouldn’t help if I told them what happened. Both the judge and I would have been ruined. Honestly, I didn’t care about my reputation. I cared about his. He didn’t do anything wrong. I was scared and weak.”

  This was a nightmare. Ryke didn’t know what to say. He stood and paced the length of the bench where Angel continued to sit. She was right to make him promise to hear her out. She’d done the same as he had with different circumstances. Angel wasn’t weak though. He couldn’t believe that. Yes, Eric bullied her. But he was the one in the wrong, not Angel.

  Reputation or not, Ryke didn’t put up with liars. It was before she’d met him, though, and Angel hadn’t lied to him.

  Had she?

  He shook his head. He had to believe that she hadn’t. If it were the other way around, then she wouldn’t be sitting here telling him everything now. Especially after she tried to push him away both physically and by yelling about his own past. It didn’t matter. He knew the panic she must have felt.

  Throughout her story she refused to look him in the eye, and now he knew why. Angel was beyond scared. She’d known since their date downtown that he didn’t do lies or weak-minded. And she was both. At least that’s what she thought.

  This man manipulated her into doing the piece for him. She said she didn’t sleep with the judge to make it further in the contest. If that was the truth then he could forgive her for not telling the committee. She’d done it to protect the judge too. Ryke needed to get to the bottom of everything.

  “Angel.”

  She held up a hand to stop him.

  “Don’t. Let me leave without a formal break-up. I hurt you, and I’m sorry. You said you don’t tolerate liars or weakness. I get it. Thank you for caring enough to get my work in the gallery. It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me and I can never repay you.”

  “Wait. I’m not …”

  Angel pushed off the bench. She grabbed his arm to steady herself, then dropped her hand to her side. With her eyes to the ground, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

  “I love you. I’m sorry. I hope someday you’ll forgive me,” she whispered into his ear then turned and walked away.

  Ryker stood in the middle of the sidewalk stunned. Angel loved him. After all she told him, knowing how he’d react—she found the strength to tell him how much he meant to her.

  “Angel,” he yelled at her back but she didn’t turn around.

  They weren’t done. No matter what she thought. Ryker would get to the bottom of all the shit and figure out what happened.

  Until he heard firsthand what happened, he wouldn’t give up on Angel. She’d said the words first, but Ryker didn’t love her any less.

  Chapter 32

  Angel paced her studio. Three days ago was the last time she talked to either Ray or Ryke. For the first day she cried until her throat hurt and she had thrown up whatever food she tried to eat. On the second day, she slept most of the time. Now the restless energy took control and she couldn’t sit still.

  “I don’t want to leave, but how can I possibly stay. Ray and I can work things out, I’m sure of it. But not Ryke. This town is too small to live in and avoid him,” Angel spoke to the empty studio. With her artwork gone, her words echoed driving her frustration to a higher level.

  Each step she took around the room reverberated in her ears. For the first time since she’d moved to Kimmswick, Angel was lost. The one person she wanted to talk to probably hated her. Ray didn’t deserve her accusations; it wasn’t her fault Angel kept secrets from her best friend. Just like Ryke said, they’d done everything with good intentions. And Angel screwed it all up.

  The day she learned to trust someone completely was the day Angel would remember forever. Blaming her father or aunt and uncle, even her mom, wouldn’t help the situation. Part of growing up was accepting responsibility for your actions. Angel needed to do just that. One step at a time. Since Ryke was the hardest, she decided to start with Ray.

  Step one was definitely a shower and food. Her phone rang before she had the chance to act on her mission. Caught up in the surprise of the timing and her recent decision to head to Ray’s, Angel answered the phone without looking.

  “Hello?” Since she’d left Ray’s apartment Angel refused to answer her phone or respond to text messages. She’d needed time to think, to reflect on the shit storm that flared up around her.

  “Angelica.” Ryke’s voice shook. But there was no indication if it shook out of anger or worry. Angel prayed it was worry. If that were the case, then maybe she had a chance of repairing their friendship, if nothing else.

  “Hey, Ryke. I’m surprised you called. Didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again.”

  “Yeah, about that. I’ve been thinking a lot the past few days. Ray called me when you packed some of your things up and left. She’s worried about you.”

  Her chin dropped to her chest. Angel continued her walk back and forth across the open room. “I know. A good friend would have called her by now, but I’m not a good friend. That’s about to change, though.”

  “Do you remember the promise you made to me? The one that you wouldn’t put yourself down? Regardless of what’s going on with us right now, that promise still stands.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You are right
, though, you need to talk to her. Ray thinks of you like her sister. Don’t leave her. What happened between us is just that … between us. Your best friend needs you as much as you need her. If you haven’t figured it out yet, your problems will follow you wherever you go.”

  “That’s obvious, don’t you think?” Angel chuckled. As mad as he was with her—and Angel knew he was mad or at least disappointed—Ryke still cared about her and Ray. Another bloom of hope blossomed in her chest. Angel had to be careful or she’d allow herself too much happiness and she’d be right back here in a week.

  “For me, yes. For you … I’m not so sure.”

  His words pierced her heart. She walked to the kitchenette and leaned against the counter. All the back and forth was making her tired and a little dizzy.

  “Don’t be an ass, Ryker. I’m a big girl and I can figure things out. We both know you’re still mad at me, and I don’t blame you. But there’s no reason for you to rub in my mistakes. Both you and Ray were hurt because of my immaturity. If apologizing for the rest of the time I know you will help to ease the pain I caused, then I’ll do it. Hell, I’ll beg for your forgiveness just to have you as a cordial acquaintance. Don’t take that as my acceptance to let you bully me. I made a promise to you not to cut myself down. I deserve to be treated with the same respect you’ve requested of me.”

  Her little rant didn’t help the cause, but if she allowed people to continue to manipulate and control her, then she’d made no progress at all. If this whole fucked-up situation taught Angel anything, it was that she needed to take control of her life and what happened.

  “Shit. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “Good. Now why did you call? It wasn’t to check on me and it wasn’t for Ray.”

  “That’s not exactly true. Checking on you for Ray was one reason I called. The other was to ask you about your story from the other night.”

  “There’s no reason to rehash my past. I told you the truth, Ryke, even if you don’t want to believe that I’m the exact kind of person you despise, it was all true.”

  “I know that you believe it to be true, but Angel, you’re not that person. Rick …”

  “His name was Eric.”

  “Whatever. Eric, Rick, it doesn’t matter. He used you to get what he wanted. You told me that you didn’t sleep with the judge in hopes of ranking higher, but you took Eric’s accusation as the truth. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “No. I took his threat seriously. He would have run both my name and the judge’s into the ground. While I may have been weak, I couldn’t let that happen. So I caved and made his piece. It killed me, Ryke. I stood there and watched these people debating how much money they would offer for my piece. And they were going to give it to him. Because they thought it was his piece. He had already pushed me into a corner, made me do something I didn’t want to do, and then he was going to benefit monetarily from it? I lost it. I slipped up and huffed to one of the potential buyers that the money should be going to me. Eric heard. Of course that’s when he decided to tell the studio full of patrons that I coerced him into putting my piece into the show so I could make a name for myself.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this the other night?”

  “Because it didn’t matter. Still doesn’t.”

  “Can’t you see that it does? Angel, he used you, then left you to hang. What happened after he made a scene?”

  Angel sighed. “I don’t know. I left. Cleaned out my apartment and drove to Kimmswick. The rest you already know.”

  “Thought so.”

  “Did you need anything else, Ryke? I’m tired and I need to talk to Ray.”

  “Nope. Got everything I wanted. Talk to you later, Angelica.”

  “Yeah, you, too.”

  He still called her Angelica. Not his, not sweetheart, not Angel. After three days, she already missed his pet names. She missed him.

  Tears poured from the corner of her eyes; so much for being dried up. Angel shook her head and swiped away the tears. Ray was more important right then. Shower and food and Ray. It was time to move on.

  Chapter 33

  Ryke snapped his phone closed, glad he called her from home rather than the shop. At least now he could have a beer to calm down. At the shop he would have had to go right back to work. He should forgive her and move on.

  She was okay with remaining acquaintances. Or so she’d said; the tremble in her voice said otherwise, but Ryke shouldn’t worry about that. Angel didn’t deny what she’d done. Yet, her story was the same as it had been three days ago. The one-night stand wasn’t to better her position in the contest. As for Eric, the thought of him made Ryke want to track him down and beat his ass. Talk about weak. Unable to accept the fact that he was caught cheating in more ways than one, he announced to everyone that the work was Angel’s. But she wanted his name.

  Pathetic.

  There had to be someone who knew the truth of what happened, even if it was three years ago. He thought back to his conversations with Trey. Muddy Banks was where everything took place, Angel confirmed that much.

  Two comments from Trey stuck out in Ryke’s thoughts. He’d said he let someone with real talent walk out of his studio and he’d never let that happen again. Then when they were talking before the opening he’d made the observation that the art looked like the work of someone else he’d seen before. Could Trey have known Angel? Did he know what happened?

  It was worth a shot. Ryke went to the drawer in the kitchen where he tossed all of the business cards he kept. Muddy Bank’s lay on the top of the pile. According to the clock on the microwave it was a little past six. He dialed the number and waited for someone to pick up.

  “Thank you for calling Muddy Banks Art Studio. The main office is closed for the evening so that we may participate in the gallery viewing. Please leave your name, number and a short message so we may return your call when we return to the office. Thank you for understanding.”

  After the beep Ryker began his message, “Hey, Trey. It’s Ryker Talcott. We spoke last week about my girlfriend’s art. I apologize for the misunderstanding Friday night, and I appreciate you letting me keep her work in the show. This call is more of a personal call, I wonder …”

  Ryker’s phone alerted him to an incoming call. He pulled the phone from his ear to check the caller ID; Muddy Banks. Quickly Ryker disconnected the original call and answered the new one.

  “Ryke?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hey it’s Trey. Sorry, I had my phone on vibrate and didn’t get to your call before it went to voicemail. What can I do for you?”

  “Oh great. You’ll want to delete my unfinished voicemail. First, I’m sorry for bailing on Friday. Things didn’t go quite as I expected with my … I mean, with Angel. Thanks for taking care of all of her pieces. I’ll come by and pick them up.”

  “No need. They all sold. In fact, I should probably get her contact information from you so I can get with her about the money.”

  “All of them? Everything sold?”

  Trey laughed. It shouldn’t have surprised Ryke that people wanted her creations. Although surprise wasn’t the right word, he was more upset that he’d missed out on buying his favorite. He had planned on purchasing the throne she’d made with the metal from his shop. He wanted to display it in his living room, make it the first thing people saw when they came over.

  “There’s one piece left. I didn’t have the heart to sell it. Something about that chair of hers was special. For some reason, I figured you’d planned to take it home with you.”

  “I had. Thank you. But how did you know?”

  “Ryke, man, I’ve been in this business for a long time. I’ve owned Muddy Banks for almost five years. You paid more attention to that throne, took more care of it, worried about how I displayed it. Either you made the work yourself or you wanted for your personal collection.”

  “No wonder you’re so well known in the community.”

  “Yeah. So let’s
get to the real reason you called, then we’ll set up some time for you to come back and pick it up.”

  “It’s kind of a personal question, not business related at all.”

  “This have something to do with your girl bolting on Friday?”

  “As a matter of fact, it does. I think you know her and you may be able to help me. I screwed up not talking to her about the show, but she’s too good to ignore her talent. A few years ago a true bastard fucked with her head and I want to get to the bottom of it.”

  “What can I do to help? I may be a hot commodity to artists, but I don’t really get to know a lot of them. I want to help if I can, but I’m not sure that’s possible.”

  “That’s just it. If you’ve had Muddy Banks for five years, you can help me. All that shit went down at your studio.”

  “Ahh hell. Okay. Can you come out here tomorrow?”

  “Sure. My guys won’t be happy but that’s one of the perks of being the boss. Does nine work for you?”

  “Yeah. That’s early enough I can still get most of my work for the day done before we open for viewing tomorrow night.”

  “Great. I’ll see you then.”

  “Yeah.”

  Ryke ended the call with a sigh. Trey may not have all the details, but he’d be able to help out a little. That’s all he could ask for right then. If he were able to at least help Angel get some resolution he’d be happy.

  Of course, having her with him again. Touching her, hearing her cries and pleas would be a dream come true. That’s why he was searching instead of letting her go. Ryke needed as much resolution as she did.

  Chapter 34

  Angel glanced around the empty apartment. Hell, the traitorous bastards even packed up for her. The studio used to contain her art, a few basic necessities and what few belongings she felt brought special inspiration. Those items still remained in a small hooded treasure box atop her refrigerator.