Strike (Completion Series)

by Holly S. Roberts

  ***

  The following day I worked the late shift. We closed at ten and then had an hour of cleanup and prep for the next day’s crew, which included me because I was on the early schedule. I took any and all hours I could. For a dead-end job, Tasty Burger wasn’t that bad. I liked the people I worked with even though they tended to be unreliable. Their undependability gave me more hours and I needed the money. I spoke to Dwaine, my manager, about working only days so I could look for an evening job.

  “Have you thought about management, Jaycee? It’s long hours, but it pays better than you make right now. I know a long-term career at Tasty Burger isn’t anyone’s dream, but you wouldn’t need to go back and forth between two jobs.”

  I liked Dwaine. He was in his fifties, divorced, and a recovering alcoholic. He blew a great career, but still managed to smile and enjoy his job. He always called me first when he needed help, and gave me Christmas gifts for Jon and Bitsy, saying they were from Santa. His grown children didn’t have a lot to do with him. He’d told me his story one Christmas Eve when we worked alone. I invited him to my small celebration the following day, but he declined. He told me he worked the AA hotline all day and night on Christmas because it was hard for a lot of people like him. Sober, Dwaine was one of the few good men I’d ever met. I hoped I never saw the side of him that had ruined his life.

  I locked the front door behind me, leaving Dwaine inside to finish up. I needed to catch the bus. It was no warmer the night before and I really missed my hoodie.

  Footsteps approached. I took a step back, ready to turn and run toward the front door.

  “It’s me, Reed. I brought you a jacket.” His voice was so low and sexy. He must practice it for hours. No one could just sound that good.

  “You brought me a jacket? Here at Tasty Burger? Do you know what time it is?”

  He didn’t answer me until the warm material surrounded my shoulders. God, it smelled like him.

  Mild irritation was in his voice. “I know it’s too late for you to be out here alone.”

  I laughed at that.

  Different worlds.

  “Is this your idea of some old Chinese proverb… burglarizing your house means you owe the burglar protection?”

  I couldn’t see his smile in the shadows, but I heard it by the lighter sound of his voice. “Could be. Come on, I’m driving you home.”

  I dug in my heels. “This needs to stop.”

  “What needs to stop…this?”

  Dammit, he did it again. He grabbed the sides of the jacket and drew me into his body. His lips were cool and I realized he’d waited outside for a while. Then, I forgot all about anything but his mouth because his tongue was hot. He ran it across my lower lip, licking me like cream before seeking more. His taste hadn’t changed. If anything, it was muskier, hotter, and oh so addictive. Trapped between the jacket and his solid chest, my hands went around his waist, feeling solid muscle beneath my fingers. I couldn’t think—all I could do was experience.

  Pulling back, he did the forehead to forehead thing again. Even that was sexy and perfect. Everything about him was perfect, which is why I knew he wasn’t for me.

  “I’m taking you home.” He opened the jacket enough to slip my arms into the sleeves, zipping it after arranging me to his liking.

  He gave a brief tug on my hand and I sighed loudly, but it didn’t stop him from pulling me along.

  “Can I drive?”

  He didn’t even look at me. “You don’t have a license, so no.”

  “You would let me drive if I did?”

  “No.”

  “You’re an ass.”

  “Probably, but I also like my Porsche in one piece, thank you very much.”

  Pounding music prevailed the entire ride to my trailer. Didn’t the man listen to anything but loud heavy metal? So maybe he wasn’t perfect.

  Chapter Seven

  He shut off his car as soon as he pulled up in front of the trailer. The sudden quiet, though welcome, made me uncomfortable. I placed my hand on the door handle.

  “Could we talk for a minute?” His sexy voice had dipped to an even lower tone. Shivers ran across my skin.

  “Talking won’t change anything.”

  “This talk might.” He sounded so sure of himself.

  I turned to face him. “Look, Reed, I’m not going to be your girlfriend. I don’t need rides home or your jackets.” I was such a liar. I never wanted to give up the jacket enveloping me in warmth and his scent. I wanted to roll in his smell, coating my body with Reed Tyler.

  “I’d like you to work for me.”

  Well that made me laugh. “Doing what? Your laundry, cleaning?”

  “Don’t you think it’s a better gig than Tasty Burger?”

  I’d said my last words as a joke, but, God, he was serious. “I am not going to be your maid. The idea is ridiculous.”

  “Just hear me out.”

  “No.” Why did he always bring my pride to the forefront?

  “I have an apartment over the garage. It has two bedrooms. Jon could sleep inside the main house and you and Bitsy could have separate rooms.”

  It took my brain about five seconds to put two and two together. Once I understood, pride was the last thing I felt. A slow, angry buzz built in my brain.

  It made perfect sense: baseball player, too much money, an easy lay whenever he had the need. “You want a live-in whore?”

  His voice exploded in the car. “You drive me crazy. No, I don’t want a live-in whore.” He took a deep breath and spoke one decimal softer. “Spring training starts in two weeks. I’ll be in Florida. I have a cleaning service that comes in once a week, but there’s always something neglected when I’m gone. I need someone to oversee things, let the pest control guy in, make sure the yard is tended by the yard crew. It’s honest work. Your sister and brother need this. You can’t do it all and I have the means to help. Christ, I would just give you the money, but I don’t see you taking it. Instead, you risked your life robbing me and you risked your brother’s and sister’s lives too.”

  His words only fueled my anger. “You know nothing about me or my sister and brother. You live in your mansion and think you have the right to butt into my business. Tell me this…did you plan on keeping your hands off me? Are you providing my own room so you can sneak in at night and get a little extra for your money? Is that part of your overall scheme?” Reed Tyler was a creep the same as all the men my mother brought home and that included the three that fathered me and Jon and Bitsy. I threw open the car door and slammed it closed behind me. I ignored the screeching tires and fought back tears. Squaring my shoulders, pushing the internal pain aside, I knocked on the trailer door. The soft crying coming from inside registered at the same time Jon opened the door.

  “What’s wrong?” I looked past Jon to Bitsy.

  “It’s…it’s…Don Gato.” Tears covered her scrunched up face.

  My heart broke. She held the mangy old cat in her arms.

  “Oh, honey, he was very old. It was his time.”

  “He’ssss not dead; he’s sick and he won’t walk.”

  Now my heart broke even further. Jon closed the door behind me and I walked over to look at Don Gato. He was lifeless, but I could see the slight rise and fall of his chest. I didn’t even have money to end his suffering. Life crashed in, but I had to control myself. I angrily wiped a tear from my face.

  “You need to go to sleep, Bitsy. You can’t stay up holding him all night. It won’t make a difference.” And I knew it wouldn’t. It didn’t matter how long I’d held my mother’s hand, she died anyway. She’d left me alone to care for my sister and brother. People died. Cats died and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it in my fucked up life.

  An hour later, I lay down with Bitsy—one arm under her pillow and my other across her small body resting my hand on Don Gato. His small chest continued to rise and fall. I needed him to die by morning. Bitsy didn’t need to go through this any longer. I
cried quietly so Jon couldn’t hear. I’d seen Jon’s eyes. He knew the same thing I did.

  It sucked to be poor.

  ***

  “He’s still alive, Jaycee. Can we take him to the doctor?”

  I opened my eyes and saw Bitsy petting Don Gato softly. Couldn’t anything go right for once?

  “If you go to school, I’ll take him to the doctor, honey.” It was the worst possible lie I could tell, but I had to.

  “You will?”

  “Yes, I will. But I don’t know if the doctor can do anything.”

  Her little mouth turned down at the corners and her lips trembled. “Sometimes I think doctors help. Don’t you think so, Jaycee?”

  No, I didn’t think so. “Yes, honey, sometimes they can help.”

  “Give my bunny money to the doctor so Don Gato will be better, okay?”

  Bitsy didn’t have a piggy bank, hers was a chipped porcelain bunny bank we’d found at the thrift store for a quarter. It had maybe two dollars in it, but Bitsy had been saving for a long time. Everywhere we went, she searched the ground for pennies. She called it her bunny money.

  “Get ready for school and after the bus comes I’ll take Don Gato to the doctor.” I was the worst person on earth. I should never have lied and given her hope, but I did it anyway.

  Bitsy hugged Don Gato goodbye and kissed him on the head.

  “Hey, sugar.” I put my fist out. Bitsy added her small one on top of mine and we both looked at Jon. He placed his fist on Bitsy’s and then I put mine on the top. At the same time, we flattened our hands and whispered, “Shhhhhh.” It meant Shumways stick together, have each other’s backs, and take on the world. I came up with the goofy tradition while our mother was dying in the hospital and child services brought Jon and Bitsy to visit. Mom lingered for two months and those weekly visits were the only time I saw my siblings.

  They were the worst days, and no matter how bad things were, they would never be that bad again. I’d see to it.

  I watched Bitsy from the end of the trailer while she waited for the school bus to pick her up. My heart became heavier when the bus pulled away and she gave me a small wave from the window.

  “What are you going to do with Don Gato?”

  Jon, the realist.

  The cat was now laying on a towel on our couch, unmoving, no change good or bad. I’d never killed an animal in my life.

  “I’ll take care of it, Jon. You need to get to school too.”

  “I can do it, Jaycee.”

  He knew. He understood, and that was as sad as lying to Bitsy.

  “I’ve got this, Jon. Go to school.”

  He looked at me for a long time before picking up his black safety pinned backpack and walking out the door. I sat down on the couch, but I couldn’t touch Don Gato. My knees came up and I dropped my head and circled my arms around them. I screamed as loud as I could.

  I just needed one fucking thing in our lives to go right.

  Only one.

  Chapter Eight

  I hid Don Gato under Reed’s jacket when I got on the bus. I looked like I was six-months pregnant, but there was no way I could walk the entire way. It was now a little more than an hour after Jon and Bitsy had left for school. Don Gato was still alive when I knocked on Reed’s door.

  During the entire trip, I swore I wouldn’t cry. Reed answered the door with bedhead, no shirt, low-slung sweatpants, and a sleepy adorable look on his face.

  “I need your help and…and I’ll sleep with you to get it.”

  Anger quickly replaced the sleepy look and, for a moment, I thought he would close the door in my face.

  “What. The. Fuck, Jaycee?”

  I started crying. It wasn’t soft or delicate, pretty, or feminine. It just poured out. I unzipped the jacket and uncovered Don Gato.

  “I don’t want him to suffer, but I couldn’t kill him. I don’t have the money to have him put down and I couldn’t do it.” I was repeating myself and blubbering like a fool.

  “Christ.”

  His arms closed around Don Gato and me at the same time he backed us into the house. He just held me for what seemed like forever. When his arms finally slipped away, he took Don Gato and carried him to the nearest couch.

  “How long has he been this way?”

  I wiped my eyes and sniffed. “For about twenty-four hours. I’m sorry I came here, but Bitsy loves him. He’s just a darn old cat, but he adopted us after our mother died and he helped Bitsy when she really needed it. He hunts mice, so I don’t need to buy much food and he’s never needed anything else but a scratch here and there.” I looked down. “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop saying that. Let me get a shirt on and we’ll go to the vet. I don’t know that there’s anything that can be done, though.”

  “There isn’t, but I don’t want him suffering, and I want it over before Bitsy gets home. May I use your phone to call my boss? I’m supposed to work this morning’s shift.”

  “You can use my cell phone in the car. I think we should hurry. Will you lose your job over this?”

  “No, Dwaine will understand. I’ve never missed a day before. He teases me all the time...” My voice trailed off and I started to apologize again, but Reed left the room. He hadn’t said anything about my offer to sleep with him, but I figured we would have plenty of time to discuss it later.

  This time, he didn’t turn up the music in his car. I figured it was out of deference to Don Gato.

  “When did your mother die?” He watched the road, not looking at me.

  “Three years ago.”

  Just a quick turn of his head before he turned back and watched traffic. “You were seventeen?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you get custody of Jon and Bitsy?”

  “I turned eighteen a few months after she died. They were both in state custody until then.”

  “What about you?” His voice was low and coaxing like he knew I didn’t talk about this.

  “I refused. The state actually has a program that got me my own place and paid my bills.”

  I could see emotions crossing his face; his lips tightened, his forehead creased, but he kept his tone even. “How did you end up at the trailer?”

  “The money stopped when I turned nineteen. One of the social workers owned the trailer and gave it to us. We’ve been lucky.”

  His lips mashed tighter and the outline of his jaw became more defined. “Nothing about your life has involved luck, Jaycee. Christ!”

  Pity mixed with anger dripped from the words, and my fighting attitude reared its ugly head. “What…and the baseball player got his big house and fancy car because of luck?” I snapped.

  He gave me another quick, frustrated look. “Yes. I make good money playing ball, but I inherited a shit load too. I’ve never worked a real damn job in my life. I play ball because I’m good at it and because I was born with good genes and natural athletic ability. Luck. And because of it, I have a big house and fancy car. If my career continues the way it has been, I’ll make even more money.”

  Wow, I had no idea, but it still didn’t mean I needed his pity. “They gave my mother six months to live. She lived a year. The first social worker on our case said I would never get custody of my sister and brother. I found a full-time job, signed up for college classes, and received custody anyway. I’ll admit, getting caught breaking into your house was very unlucky, but we’re on our way to a vet. I think it’s the way you look at life. You should try the glass is half full approach some time.” I sounded like my mother even though I believed the opposite. I just didn’t want this man’s pity.

  His lips twitched and I watched a slow grin appear on his face. I could only see his profile, but loved the glimpse of that sexy smile. He made me think about my earlier dreams that would never come true—the dashing prince, the glittery castle, perfection. All fairy tales. Real life was actually the wicked witch and doom.

  “I need to call Dwaine.”

  Reed pulled his phone
from his jacket pocket and handed it to me. After a moment, while I figured out how it worked, I put it to my cheek. The damn thing actually smelled like him. A phone for god’s sake. I spoke to Dwaine and tasted Reed on my lips. I wanted to lick the cover plate.

  I was perfectly pathetic.

  We pulled up at the clinic a few minutes later. Reed carried Don Gato inside. I was glad. I loved the stupid cat and this was the hard part. After filling out a short form, the tech took us back to a private room. She was young and pretty. She ignored me, but stared at Reed like a lovesick fool. Yep, I knew I had the same look and it pissed me off.

  She asked Reed about Don Gato and he turned to me. It was petty of me, but I was glad she had to take notice that I was in the room. I told her what I knew and she immediately turned back to Reed.

  “Dr. Lyston will be with you in a moment.”

  I wanted to slap her hand when she placed her fingers on Reed’s arm. He didn’t seem to notice.

  “Thank you.” He gave her the same heart-stopping smile he gave me on occasion.

  Now I wanted to rip her pretty little face off.

  I looked down at Don Gato. His eyes were only partially open and he remained listless. I guessed his age to be about fifteen, but I actually had no idea. Reed kept a hand against Don Gato’s side, lightly rubbing his fur.

  Dr. Lyston finally entered the room. He at least looked at me after I answered the first of his questions.

  “We can do some blood work and take an x-ray to see if he has a blockage.” A touch of censure entered his voice. “It’s hard to tell by what I can see. If he was an indoor cat, you would know about his bowel movements and eating habits, but I can only work with what we have. His temperature is slightly elevated and he could be fighting off an infection.”

  The doctor was making this hard. “He needs to be put down. That’s all I want.”

  He gave me a stunned look. “I assure you, he may only have an infection.”