Scrap Metal (Midwest Kisses Book 1)

by Jennah Scott

  Her spare toothbrush, hairbrush, toothpaste and other bathroom goods were in a big black garbage bag next to the fridge now. For three years she’d come here as a place of refuge, somewhere to let her guard down and create, it took her a whole year of knowing Ray to let her know the location of her studio. How stupid she had been to let Ryker in too.

  The problem didn’t so much lay with the fact that her art was on display or that they took it. If Angel actually gave herself a good hard look in the mirror, she knew what the real problem was. Running away didn’t work and damn if she hadn’t realized it by now. She was heartbroken by her own reaction, guilty and full of shame for turning on two people who loved her.

  All they were doing was trying to make her realize her own potential; she could see it all then. But when she’d heard the words come from Ray’s mouth; the realization that another man had taken control of her art and used it as his own, it killed her. Memories of being used, having to flee from the art scene and even the town activated the age-old fight-or-flight instinct. With Angel, flight always won out. Just like all those years ago and countless times in her past, all Angel could think was run. And before the thought had any more time to settle in, she had gone off like a firecracker, angrily giving it to the two people in the world she had come to trust.

  Two. That was another problem. Even though Angel could see the difference in herself, the recognition of her problems and the wrong way she’d handled them, there was no way she could stay in Kimmswick. It was going to break her heart to leave Ray behind. No matter what she had said to her or the way Ray had been drawn to tears, Angel knew they would always make up. Ray was closer to her than any sister Angel could have dreamed up, and there was no way she would ever leave her with all the broken pieces of their friendship still rigid and too painful to touch.

  But how could she ever face Ryker again? She was everything he hated in people. To know that she had been wrapped around his body, their limbs entangled in the most passionate ways, he must want to take a three-day shower in scalding water and alcohol to cleanse it off. She was a coward and a cheater. She didn’t even deserve him. Seeing him move on, knowing he was with someone else, finally having to face the woman that would be as strong as he needed his woman to be. It wouldn’t just hurt; it would steal her life. And it was her fault. Even as she wished she could have been more, for herself and for him, she needed to run again.

  The time had come to face Ray. Angel’s decision would not be swayed by tears, pleads or claims of hatred. For the sake of all three of them, Angel was leaving.

  In the amount of time it took for Angel to drive from her studio to her home she was sick to her stomach. Nausea rolled around in her stomach like the ocean during a tropical storm. Her mind ran wild as if on a run-away rollercoaster.

  She pushed logic aside, told herself that leaving was for the best. It would have to be quick. Get in, pack up and then apologize to Ray. Fixing things with her wouldn’t take too terribly long and she could get on the road. Maybe the tip of Florida or a field somewhere in Nebraska, Ray could even come visit, she’d like somewhere wild and open like Nebraska.

  Chapter 35

  The next morning, Ryke woke earlier than usual. All night long he tossed and turned, replaying everything about the last few weeks; Angel before the show and after it, the fight and everything since then.

  For years Ryke vowed to not associate with anyone who was as weak as him. Fear that he’d fall into the trap and open himself up to manipulation was the main catalyst for the promise. Then there were the lies. The deceit he hoped Trey would be able to help out with. Ryke was certain Angel hadn’t acted maliciously, but he didn’t have any facts to back up the gut feeling he had.

  As far as her weakness, that was something everyone dealt with at one time or another. The woman he met and had spent time with over the last month or so wasn’t weak. Vulnerable, known to lose herself in her art, yeah. But who wasn’t? Ryke spaced out more than once in the middle of a restoration project, prone to let his own creative muse take control. It was unfair to Angel to fault her for the same thing.

  So he showered, dressed, and headed to St. Louis. Now determined to find out the truth and after that, figure out a way to make sure Angel didn’t hightail it out of town. Once in the car he added a quick prayer that after some time had passed and wounds healed, if she was still around, they could try dating again. Since the first night after the bar, Ryke had smiled and laughed more than he had since moving to Kimmswick.

  The drive to Muddy Banks flew past. On a normal day the thirty minute drive was quick, but uneventful. Today Ryke’s mind floated from one Angel-centered topic to another. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the woman out of his mind.

  For no other reason, he had to get to the bottom of this so he could once again focus. James’s truck needed his attention. Larry was waiting on Ryker to finish his paint job, and there was a calendar full of clients at the shop he needed to confirm with.

  Trey greeted him at the front door of the studio. Nine o’clock. Right on time.

  “Morning.” Ryker walked in with a nod of hello.

  “Thanks again, Trey. I appreciate this more than you know.”

  “No problem as long as you promise to get her back here to visit with me. I’d like to take Angel on as a regular contributing artist. There are a few people that want to commission some work from her too.”

  “I’ll do what I can. If she talks to me, that is. Hopefully whatever you can tell me will help with that.”

  Trey led them through the main part of the studio, around a corner and into a larger office. He had a large mahogany desk to the left of the door and a couch and table on the right. Ryke didn’t feel like sitting across the desk, so he went to the couch and sat down.

  “Neither of us have a lot of time. So let me just ask. Did you have a potential partner named Eric about three years ago?”

  “Somehow I knew Eric had a hand in whatever happened. Yeah. He was a friend of mine. Until he did the worst possible thing a person could do. Angel, her real name is Angelica, isn’t it?”

  “Angelica Rousseau.”

  “You were right when you said Eric was a bastard. Can I get you something to drink? Water maybe?”

  Ryke shook his head and Trey joined him on the other side of the couch. The men sat staring at the desk in front of them. Neither one talking. Ryke wanted Trey to tell him what happened, but didn’t want to hear anything that might make things worse between him and Angel.

  “Angel said Eric coerced her into doing a piece for him and putting his name on it so he could uphold the clause in the contract.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s the truth. I gotta tell ya, that night was hell around here. Even though Eric and I were friends, I never really trusted him. Friend’s probably isn’t the right word, more like acquaintances. That’s why I had our lawyer add in the clause that made it easy for us to refuse his partnership.”

  “So what exactly happened?”

  “I don’t know all the details, but I can tell you want I know. Eric did exactly what she said. My buddy and business partner told me it had to do with a contest she entered. Eric made up this elaborate lie that she’d slept with one of the judges so she could win. Then he threatened that he’d out her to the committee. They would have stripped her of her win and the money. The judge, I can’t remember his name, would have been removed from any further contests. It would have made it through the committee like all good gossip does.

  “The art community, especially around here, is pretty tight-knit. You screw one of them over and you might as well say you screwed everyone. Or at least the major players. Anyway, all that shit he told her was a lie. Angelica was new to the area, which is why she probably believed him, and didn’t argue. Probably worried he’d follow through on his threat and all that.”

  “So you don’t think she slept with the judge?”

  “Now that I can’t answer. Don’t know and don’t really care. All
I know is that Eric was full of shit. That contest is judged anonymously. It’s required that the submissions have no identifying marks on them. When the judges preview the art, they do it on different days at different times and don’t discuss anything with each other. The whole process is pretty insane, if you ask me. But that’s neither here nor there.”

  Ryke laced his hands behind his head. The whole thing was a big clusterfuck. Angel didn’t know Eric was a lying sack of shit. She didn’t realize how discreet the judging process was and that his claim was ridiculous. A smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

  “Perfect. Now about her throne.”

  “Figured you’d ask about that. Are you absolutely sure you want it? Because it would make a great addition to my gallery.”

  Oh yeah, he was sure. Ryke had a plan to show Angel just how special she was.

  Chapter 36

  Angel parked her car in its usual spot and walked up the porch, letting her hands trail the railings and the familiar time-softened wood that she’d come to rely on. It had always been there to fill her contemplative mornings and carefree evenings, watching the sun sink low into its slumber for the night or watching it rise on the rare mornings she was up early. She’d miss the porch more than any other part of the house. Even her bedroom didn’t hold the same comfort as the old swing. Angel let out a great sigh and opened the door as quietly as she could.

  Each step had a creak or a groan and she knew just where to step to avoid every one of them. Once she made it to her room, Angel was sure she was safe. She closed the door knowing Ray was home, in the kitchen most likely, but Angel had made sure to be extra quiet. She should have had enough time to pack before having to say that one word to Ray that would change everything.

  With a loud bang, the bedroom door flew open and Ray ran in with her great-grandfather’s shotgun. It had always hung on the wall and Angel knew it didn’t even fire anymore, but even if she hadn’t, she didn’t have a reason to fear it.

  Ray held it by the barrel, the grip high over her shoulder like she was going to swing a baseball bat.

  Angel couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.

  “Oh my God, Angel, it’s you!” Ray’s eyes went wide and she threw the weapon on the bed.

  “It’s me, listen, I need to apologize to you.” Angel met Ray in the center of the room and grabbed her hands. “I didn’t mean to be such a jerk, it freaked me out when you brought up the show and it really freaked me out that you had a hand in stealing my pieces to make it happen.”

  “We really thought it was going to be nice. I promise, Angel, I never would have done that if I thought you’d be hurt by it.”

  “I know you wouldn’t. You’re like a sister to me; actually, scratch that because you know my family sucks.” Angel smiled tightly, hating what had to come next. “The thing is, Ray, I can’t stay here.”

  “What? Yes you can! Of course you can.” Ray shook her head furiously. Tears welled up in her eyes.

  Squeezing her hands gently, Angel tried to stay strong. “I have to go, Ray. It’s not because of you. I can’t stay in town knowing Ryker is so close. I can’t take the chance that one day he’ll find someone else and I sure as hell can’t face him now that he knows what a coward I am.”

  “He loves you! You guys can work it out, I know you can. And I know after breaking into your place I don’t really deserve your trust, but Angel, you know you can always talk to me. I don’t know what happened to you or why you think you’re such a coward, but you aren’t. You are the strongest woman I know. Please don’t leave.”

  “I love him so much it actually hurts, but that’s just it. That’s why I can’t stay. It’s over.” Angel hugged Ray close to her. “I’m thinking Nebraska. Won’t you come visit? You’d love the fields and the horses, it’s like Tennessee but you actually have a white Christmas.”

  Ray answered through choked-up tears. “I want you to stay, you’re my best friend, Angel. I need you here.”

  “Chin up, RayAnne. You don’t need me. You’re a magnificent creature.” Angel let go of Ray and pushed at her chin until their eyes met. “I promise to keep in touch. Once I find a place that feels like home, I’ll write.”

  There was no way Ray would believe her. Even Angel had a hard time believing it. Her voice hitched as she said “home” because she doubted anywhere else would feel like home the way Kimmswick did. Her days would never contain the mixture of country so close to a city or the hometown feel that was just old enough for Angel to desire blending into.

  Ray nodded her head, tears running down her cheeks and plummeting off the rise of lips. Breaking her heart was never in Angel’s intentions. It was time to go, time to let Ray start healing and understanding how necessary it was.

  Maybe even Angel would start healing once she put some distance between herself and the town. Healing sounded so damn good right then with her heart exposed to the world and her whole being completely raw.

  Chapter 37

  “Ryke.” He barely understood his own name through the sobs.

  “Ray?” It was dangerous, but Ryker knew even as he drove he couldn’t hang up on her or tell her he’d call her when he got back to town. Hell, when he got back to town he was going straight to Angel’s.

  “She’s leaving. She came to say goodbye and God, Ryke, Nebraska.” Ray choked on the end of Nebraska, throwing her into full-blown sobs again.

  His mind spun. Nebraska? Angel was leaving so soon and going so far away? For some reason a part of him believed she would stay, that she wouldn’t be able to leave Ray. That he’d still have a chance or time to prove the truth to Angel and win her back.

  His eyes flitted to the rearview mirror of his truck. Angel’s throne was wrapped and secure in the bed. He couldn’t lose her, not after the truths he found out, and especially not before she knew.

  “All right, Ray, it’s going to be all right.” Ryker glanced at the clock. He was about fifteen minutes away from town. “I’m going straight to the studio, I can clear all of this up, okay?”

  “I’m sorry, Ryke. If I would have known, I never would have let you do it, I should have known. It’s my fault.”

  “Ray. Stop. Breathe. I promise, I’m going to do everything in my power to set this right.”

  He wished he could promise that Angel would be back home after a day or two or that he would follow her to the moon convincing her to come back. Those promises were too lofty and not nearly as important as what really mattered—letting Angel know the truth. She would never stop running if she didn’t want to and she only wanted to because she was ashamed of who she was.

  But her self-image and the truth were so far from each other. He had to make her see that. He had to help her, even if she refused to see him again, even if it was the last moment he got to spend with his Angel.

  Ryker’s foot crushed the accelerator, his own thoughts making him more desperate to drive faster, get there faster, and fix things faster. There couldn’t be a last time with Angel. He wouldn’t let there be. Not slowing down as he passed the city limits sign, Ryker stayed on the gas all the way to the old gymnasium that now housed Angel’s studio.

  The parking lot was full when he arrived. The community center across the street used the studio lot when they needed more room, not to mention the other resident’s vehicles. Just his luck, cars littered every spot and frustration set in. He didn’t have time for another hassle, he had to make it inside, had to let Angel know what she meant to him. He finished the lap around the lot and pulled up directly in front of the doors. Before the truck came to a complete stop, Ryker threw it in park and jumped from the driver’s side.

  The throne came unfastened and he slid it to the tailgate, but still had to struggle with it to bring it down to the ground without damaging it. He held the metal pieces close to his chest, carrying it to the old wooden doors.

  With an answered prayer to the good Lord, the exterior to the building was open and Ryker stumbled inside.

  His hear
t raced quickly, the desire to see her and the fear of her probable rejection just as much to blame as the fight he’d had in keeping the throne safe on the trek to where he then stood afraid and anxious to take the next step.

  He beat his fist on the door to no answer, so he beat again. She was there, damn it, he’d seen her car in the lot. Without rest, he pounded until the frame of the door shook under his fist.

  “What?” Angel’s face blanched as their eyes met. She took a step back as if to close the door in his face, but decided against it. He saw the steely resolve in her eyes as she blocked his entrance. “If you’ve come to rob me, it’s too late. Place is empty.”

  “I came to tell you the truth.”

  “Great. Because I didn’t already know that I have made terrible decisions and lied and cheated?”

  Ryke loved the fire in her voice, the way she stood so tall even as she tried to cut herself low. “You don’t know the truth. You left too soon. If you’ll take off those running shoes for a minute, I think you might like what I have to say.”

  Tears threatened to spill over onto her cheeks. “Ryke, I am trying really hard to be strong right now. Please, just go. I’ll be gone in less than an hour and you’re free to move on with your life, just like I will.”

  “I brought you something.” Ryke stepped aside and started to push the throne into her doorway.

  “No.” She stepped in front of the door, closing it behind her. “Get that out of here. Throw it away.” Her voice bordered on panic.

  “I won’t.”

  “It’s junk, Ryker, and tell Trey to use that dumpster of his on the rest. I don’t have room for it in the Caddy anyway.”

  “He doesn’t have any of it anymore.”