My Fate for Yours

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My Fate for Yours Page 9

by Steph Campbell


  When her stance relaxes and she sets the gun down on the table in front of her, I feel like it’s safe to talk.

  “Hey.”

  She spins to face me. “Oh! Damn, Rach, I didn’t see you.”

  “I’m aware.” I point down range. “You killed that target.”

  She shrugs. “Yeah. I’m just wasting time. It’s slow today.”

  “Doc Jansen offered me a job, so I’m thinking of quitting the paper or Carl’s, you know, if maybe there’s a little more I could do around here.”

  She purses her lips together, thinking.

  “It’s been slow, Rach. I don’t know how much work Dad will have for you. And...” Kelly lets out a long sigh. “It looks like I’ll be sticking around for my freshman year.”

  “Well hell.” I laugh a little and hoist myself on the old wooden table. “So much for that idea.”

  “Can you do the paper and work for Doc?”

  “It’s all at the same time...” I bite my lip and wipe the hair from my face. “Maybe if I do some careful juggling it’ll work. Maybe.” I feel like my entire existence is about juggling. Work. School. Mama. Eamon.

  “Good luck to ya.” She starts taking her rifle apart at lightning speed, and I wonder a bit about what the guy’s thing of this rail thin blond girl and her badass hobbies. I also wish I had a little time for hobbies.

  “Yeah, thanks.” I open my mouth to say something about Eamon but can’t. I know he wants us a secret, even though there’s no “us” to speak of anymore. I’m also... After the messy breakup with Brett, I can’t take the humiliation of anyone knowing how thoroughly easy I am to leave--even if she’s a good friend.

  “I might pop in and see ya tonight.” Kelly glances over her shoulder as I’m walking toward my car.

  “I’ll be the girl behind the counter trying not to kill the drunks.” I laugh and give her a wave.

  The moment I’m in my car, my body tenses up at the thought of maybe seeing Eamon. I think I lied to him. Maybe we can’t be friends after what happened. Even though we’ve been close for years, and it was only one weekend, I just don’t think I know how to be friends. At least not right now.

  17

  Eamon

  I’m finishing up a large fire pit special order at work with last night still rolling through my head. I’ve done some crazy stuff with girls, and I’ve had sex in some insane places, but never has it been like it was with Rachel. I felt every second, every piece of her, and it still wasn’t enough. I couldn’t give her enough, couldn’t take enough, couldn’t be close enough when we finished.

  That scared the living shit out of me. But still I did it, and then when I woke up and never wanted to leave, I bolted. Rachel and I had a deal, and she knows what I’m capable of. She’s too much of everything to be with her the way I know she wants.

  “Eamon!” Traive shouts from about two feet behind me nearly making me drop my torch.

  “The fuck, man!” I spin around, but he’s smiling too damn big for me to pissed. Anyway, Traive is probably exactly what I need tonight.

  “You’re distracted today.” He slugs my shoulder.

  “You’re not supposed to be in the warehouse asshole.”

  “Jerry let me back. Why you being such a whiny douchehole?”

  “Fuck you.” I go back to the fire pit because I just need to get a little bit more done and I can call it good.

  “Nelson wants to go out tonight. Leslie’s filling out some shit for the school she wants to go to in Atlanta, and the band’s taking the week off. Since you’re always unattached, or at least your attachments seem to be able to be brushed off when needed, I figured I could count on you.”

  He’s right, and I need it that way.

  I finally get the last run done and start putting my few tools away. “Great. Let’s drive over to Rainy or maybe even out to Baton Rouge.” I need out of here.

  “Cool man. Gotta run by and pick up Nelson first, we’ll see what he wants to do.”

  “Tobin!” I yell toward where he’s hunched over a trailer we’ve been working on. “Come out with us.”

  He flips me off with his huge glove.

  “Guess he’s out or he’ll catch up with us later.”

  Traive slaps my back, and maybe my life can go back to the normal it was before I decided I needed to have sex with one of my best friends.

  ***

  Fucking Carl’s bar. What the hell.

  I’m actually wiping my palms like a scared kid as we head for the door. Since Nelson’s underage, it’s the only place we know he can get a drink. Though, he’s bigger than both of us and probably wouldn’t get carded.

  Normally I make sure I’m in first to get a good seat at the bar so we can harass Rachel, but tonight I let them go ahead. I’m actually having a hard time breathing because I’ve turned so damn pathetic.

  “I wanna play pool,” I say as the tinny jukebox music slams into our ears.

  “Table then?” Nelson points to his favorite table near the shuffleboard bowling he loves so much.

  “Yeah.” Finally something’s going my way.

  I’ll be a dick if I don’t look up to find Rachel and wave. My eyes connect with hers immediately--her tanned skin, messy pulled up hair and smile hit me just like they did the night I kissed her here. Last weekend was supposed to get rid of this way I want her, and instead I know how fucking incredible she is under those clothes, and all I can see now is a bewildered Rachel standing naked (in my mind) behind the counter sliding a beer toward...a guy who’s looking at her way too closely. Pretty-boy, too. Not from here or I’d know him. Pressed pants and shirt that belongs under a suit, not in a bar.

  I grit my teeth as I sit, still watching him watch her, even if I know he’s not her type, so it doesn’t matter. Or, at least it shouldn’t matter.

  “You want to grab the first round?” I ask Traive as I lean back in my chair.

  “Hell, no. Let’s make Rachel work for the huge tips you leave her.” He leans back even further than I do and crosses his legs. “She can come to us.”

  “Don’t be a dick.” And I don’t want to play those games tonight.

  Instead of pool, which by the ten stacks of quarters is tied up for at least that many games, Nelson’s already found some unsuspecting guy to put money down on shuffleboard bowling. Wonder how many rounds Nelson will go before he actually starts playing and cleans the guy out.

  “Hey,” Rachel says from behind us. “What do you guys want tonight?”

  Everything in me tightens. I snatch the coaster off the table and flip it in my hands for something to do before I finally look back at her. Damn she’s sexy. She has on the same friendly smile she uses for everyone, so maybe the weirdness and tension is all me. I mean, obviously it is. “Beer. You know what I drink.”

  This is when I’d normally wink at her, but now it seems too personal. Like I might be hinting at what I blatantly laid out last night, only was too chicken shit to follow through with.

  “What’s with you?” Traive kicks me under the table, which sort of makes me want to punch his face in because I need for this not to be awkward. What a fucking idiot I am.

  Sure. We can do a weekend of mind-blowing sex and go back to friends. Riiight.

  “Nelson,” she chides. “If you don’t get your order in soon, I might have to notice you could be underage and ask for your ID.”

  He snorts before asking for a beer.

  I watch the soccer game on the TV even though I don’t give a fuck about soccer.

  I watch Nelson clean a guy out of a hundred bucks before he and his two friends finally leave. Thirty minutes later, Nelson has a new victim, and I have no idea what’s happening in the soccer game I don’t give a shit about but keep watching because maybe, just maybe I can tune out thoughts of Rachel with something. I watch Traive steal Nelson’s shots of whiskey and chase them with two beers. Then get shots of his own. An hour later, and I’m still working on my first beer, peeling at the label like I
’ve watched Tobin do while he whines and sinks into his own bubble of depression.

  Damn.

  “Dude. What’s with you, for real?” Traive’s breath smells like whiskey and death as he leans on me and I’m trying to figure out why I bothered to come out with them if all we were going to do was sit at Carl’s.

  “Nothing.”

  He leans into me, like he has something serious to say; only I know it’ll be total bullshit because he’s too wasted to come up with anything else. “You had no girl last weekend, I mean... That’s just weird, you were with... Wait, wait, wait.” Traive’s eyes turn into dinner plates as his mouth opens. “You and Rachel?”

  Panic seizes me at the thought of anyone knowing because they’d all push it. I know they would. I have to be pretty damn convincing to keep Traive off the trail. “No. I’d never hook up with Rachel.” I scoff and finish off my beer.

  “Yeah.” His eyes narrow as he pats my back and leans away. “You’d just fuck her over anyway.”

  I want to slug him for his comment, even though it’s dead on. “Anyway, the chick I bought the Jeep from, hot little redhead. She seemed pretty interested, so I’ll probably give her a call this week. Get rid of some stress.”

  He pats my back in slow, sloppy, deliberate pats. “Nice. Redheads man, they’re wild.”

  I don’t want to be having this conversation with Traive right now. He’s never known when to stop. I lean toward him a bit to check his eyes and see Rachel standing. Still. Only a table away and staring. Fuck. There’s no way she didn’t hear me. Maybe I did fuck her over. I didn’t mean to. Hell. It was a really, really shitty idea, but at the same time, I don’t think I’d take it back. I’ve never had anyone like her.

  She gives me an eat-shit look I totally deserve before walking back behind the bar, setting down her tray and leaning against the counter in front of the guy who was watching her too close. She flashes him a wide smile and rage spins through me.

  I ball my hands into fists and walk toward her before thinking.

  His eyes are on her all eager. Hungry. Oh, fuck no. “Yeah, Baton Rouge isn’t far, maybe I could get your number, or--”

  “Rachel?” I interrupt.

  She licks her lips and tries to seem bored, only I know her better. “What can I get for you?” I jerk my head to the side so she’ll follow me to the end of the bar. She walks over slowly. “What’s up, Eamon?”

  “Not that guy. Come on.”

  She chews the inside of her lip for a moment and I can’t tell if she’s pissed or just thinking. “I think you’ve made your stance on you and I pretty damn clear, Eamon. You don’t have a say in who I do or don’t date. Just like I can’t tell you that if you go out with that hot little redhead—you know what, never mind.”

  Emotion grabs everything inside me in a fury so powerful all I can do without causing destruction is walk back to my table and try not to destroy the thing when I get there.

  I stand next to Traive’s chair. “Let’s go.”

  “Nah, man. I’m just gettin’ started.” Only his head is doing that bobble thing as he stares at his beer.

  “Nelson. Some help?” I point to Traive.

  Nelson gives me a look that says he’s definitely not ready to leave. He’s probably only halfway done with his latest hustle. It’s a good thing we’re right on the state highway, or he’d have run out of people to take money from by now. We all know better than to bet with Nelson in that game. If they ever do commission it as a real sport, Nelson will be team captain.

  I help Traive to his feet and have to glance over at Rachel again. She’s leaning over the counter writing her number on the guy’s hand as he stares at her chest.

  I want to punch all his teeth in. Bloody his nose. What the hell is she doing? Maybe I will call the redhead who sold me the Jeep.

  18

  Rachel

  I wipe the bar counter down now that the last people have gone home. Nelson paid for him and Traive and Eamon because he won about three hundred bucks. Lucky bastard. Maybe I need to take up shuffleboard bowling, so I can school some of these assholes and take home a purse full of bills for way less work than I’m doing now on the up-and-up.

  Eamon left with Traive draped over him and didn’t so much as look back.

  My stomach doubles over every time I think about seeing Eamon. He has to feel something for me or he wouldn’t be so pissed when I’m flirting with someone else, but will he ever admit it?

  And pleated-khaki-pants-boy isn’t my kind of guy, but at least he was nice. Not nice enough to give him my real number, though.

  What a mess this all is.

  ***

  Doc Jansen is leaning back in his office chair; his white hair matches his coat and is neatly combed back off his face making me wonder if there are any young doctors in the state.

  Nerves flitter through me as he takes me in.

  “What made you decide to go into nursing?” he asks.

  I smirk. “I’ve been patching up Tobin and Eamon since I was five.”

  That brings a full-on smile to Doc’s face. “You know those two boys came in here so often I teased their mother that I ought to give her a punch card that would entitle them to every tenth visit free.”

  “How many free visits did they get?” I ask.

  His brows go up. “A lot.”

  “Sounds about right.” I lean forward in my chair. “I’m a fast learner and I really appreciate the opportunity, and--”

  He holds his hand up between us. “Your teachers rave about you. Word gets around in places this small. I’m worried because I was told you’re only taking one class right now?”

  My gut drops. “It’s all I can afford. And really, all I have time for with Mama and bills and...”

  He nods. “Well, I run a very small practice, but it’ll give you something to put on your resume when you finish school.”

  “Thank you. Really.”

  “Tomorrow morning then?” he asks. “First patient is at eight thirty, so I’ll need you here about a half hour before. Sound good?”

  What it sounds like is that I’ll be working tomorrow on about four hours of sleep, but what’s new. At least this job is a major step in the right direction. Something that I’ll use in the future. I can’t say the same about cleaning up after a bunch of drunks and getting hit on every night by random strangers.

  “Perfect. Thanks.”

  19

  Eamon

  Tawny has her arm linked around my waist, sort of forcing me to do the same. Her smile is eager, her tits are on the large side--meaning perfect. Her skirt is so short even girls are staring, and... I’m not feeling it. Just like I always know when I’m out with a girl—I know I could have her tonight with just a little bit of effort, but I don’t even know if I want to bother.

  How could I not want her? I let my eyes wander over her curves again. The corner of her mouth quirks up like I’m playing into what she wants. I love girls like this. They’re not clingy. They know what they want, and they know how to give me what I want.

  “So, you’ve lived in Crawford your whole life?” she asks. It’s a throwaway question. She doesn’t give a shit.

  “Yep,” I answer as I hold open the door of the diner. It’s a stupid move bringing her here. If I was going to take her to dinner, I should have stuck with my normal plan of heading toward the coast, or the Riverside restaurant, and instead I’m in the town I live in, which is probably a bad idea.

  “I’m glad you called.” She sits in a booth, but has to sort of jump as she slides over because bare legs and vinyl don’t mix. I know she’s making room for me to sit next to her, but that’s just out of the question.

  Only…haven’t I done the same thing when I knew it would get me what I want?

  My head spins through our dinner, and even though I’d break my own arm for one of Missy’s pies, I’m ready for this to be over. To go home. To try and shake Rachel out of my head.

  I’m paying and we’re walk
ing out and even when she slides her hand into my back pocket, my body doesn’t react. We stop at her car, and I play my next move in my head. How I should say I’m not ready for our night to be over, and why don’t we take a drive up the highway to see if we can find somewhere for dessert (I happen to know a few places not far from here that I’ve used before.) But I don’t say anything, just stand and stare at the features that look all wrong because they belong to the wrong girl.

  Tawny slips her fingertips into the front of my jeans, tugging so I step closer. If this was Rachel, I’d have her pinned against the car. If this were Rachel, I’d probably be doing some other juvenile move like grinding against her as we kissed because I’d need her so bad.

  Instead, it’s Tawny and her tits pressed against my chest just before her tongue snakes in my mouth. I kiss her back because I don’t want to be an ass, but I’m not feeling it. She doesn’t taste right, she doesn’t feel right.

  I pull away and get that unnerving, prickly-spine thing that says someone’s watching. The second I spin around, I hear a car door slam and see Rachel peeling away.

  My chest tightens so hard I feel like I can’t breathe, and my guts twist up. I don’t want this. I don’t want to feel this. It’s why I stay away from shit like relationships. I grab Tawny and kiss her for real, wrapping my arms low on her waist, pressing my hips to hers, but it still doesn’t work.

  “You okay?” she asks, only I can’t answer because I’m not fucking okay and I should be.

  Rachel and I made a deal. We had a weekend. She doesn’t get to be pissed right now. I shouldn’t feel like a piece of shit right now. I clasp my hands and rest them on my head for a moment while I push out a breath.

  “I’m shit at relationships. I don’t do them.” I watch her for any sign that she’s not one-hundred-percent on board with me.

  “Okay.” She shrugs.

 

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