Fueled Obsession 3

by Amanda Heartley

  Across the street from Artist’s Row, the city’s Conference Center buzzed with activity. I read the giant, vinyl banner they had hanging from the building façade—People for Pets or some such nonsense. Not that I didn’t like dogs, but rich folks were so conceited. Most of the assholes in their high-priced suits didn’t even look this way and see the people out here struggling to make a living.

  I shook my head and decided to hit a beignet stand. I ordered black coffee and beignets and sat down on a bench to eat them. I took a bite and looked across the street at the parade of snobs as they walked into the fundraiser and almost choked. I stood up and thought for a moment that I was seeing things. “Moll…” Her name was on my lips, but I changed my mind when I saw who she was with. Mollie wore a hot, and sexy blue dress and blue fuck-me heels. Nobody ever looked as good as she did. I’d never seen her with her hair up, but I knew that face. I’d know it anywhere. “What the—”

  Unfortunately, she walked arm in arm with my nemesis—Dylan. He wore a black tuxedo with a sleek, black bowtie. As they talked and smiled at one another, the two never glanced my way and I suddenly lost my appetite. This wasn’t real, was it? Could Mollie have hooked up with Dylan on purpose? What about him? Was this his way of getting revenge on me for what’s her name? Suzanne or Suzie, whoever the fuck she was?

  I handed the rest of my beignets to a homeless man sitting on a step. He took the free meal with a smile and I wiped the powder from my face and drained the coffee.

  “That could have been me,” I told the dude and I pointed at Mollie.

  He just smiled stupidly at me and said, “Damn!”

  I thought one more time about going to her, getting down on one knee in front of her to tell her she was all I’d ever wanted, but I laughed at myself. That would never work and I never wanted to see her laugh at me or reject me. I couldn’t do that. Rage built up inside me and I wanted to beat Dylan’s ass so bad, then reality hit and I knew this wasn’t his fault. I did this to me. I fucked myself.

  I left and walked down Artist’s Row with my hands slung in my pockets and my head down. My life just got better and better, didn’t it? I had no one to blame but myself. When I got to the bay, I sat on a bench by the pier and watched the ships come in and out for about an hour. It was quiet down here, and it gave me time to think.

  I thought about Mollie and her sweet, heart-shaped face, her lips on Dylan and him with his arms around her. I imagined her giving herself to him and it made me sick when I thought about her soft, warm body entwined with his. I wanted to throw up just thinking about it. I would never, in a million years, have dreamed that those two would get together, and I knew for a fact that she dug me…at least for a while. Fuck. Fuck! I stood up and looked at the stars.

  “Fuuuuuck!” Jack, get her out of your mind. Right here, right now. She’s done with you. It’s over! I thought about talking to God about all this. What the hell would I say? Sorry, God for being a fucked up junkie who has no morals or respect?

  I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to pray, but I vaguely remembered praying back when I was all beat-up in the hospital. Yeah, I did actually. My prayer came back to me, “Let me live and I will do better. I will help those kids, I promise.” I hadn’t heard a word from the Man Upstairs, but I was here—wasn’t that enough evidence to suggest that he’d answered my prayer? I told him I’d do right if he let me live, and I hadn’t kept my part of the bargain.

  I hated it when people promised me stuff and didn’t do it. How many times had Nellie promised me that my dad was coming down for the weekend, only to have the weekend pass and him never show up? How many times had she promised me new shoes, or money for lunch, or even a fucking backpack for school and I never got it. I didn’t want to be someone who didn’t keep their word, even if it was to God—or the kids.

  I shook my head; I had no one to blame. It was Jackson Fitzgerald who’d done this. I’d burned my bridges with Mollie, but maybe it wasn’t too late. She’d believed in me once. Surely I could convince her to believe in me twice.

  The angry man inside me wanted to get high, find another girl, steal a car, but I knew that that path would never lead me to Mollie and I wanted her more than I wanted to breathe.

  I could do this! I didn’t care what it looked like today, I could change my tomorrow. Other people did it. I got up off the bench and walked back towards my house. It was nearly eight o’clock now, but I knew where I needed to go. This would be where it all turned around for me. It would be the beginning of my new life. I’d been putting this off long enough. Two blocks later, I walked into a barber shop and sat in a chair. The barber looked surprised to see a wild-haired kid in his chair, but here I was.

  “So, what you looking for? Some highlights or somethin’? I don’t do that here, you know, just haircuts. Nothin’ fancy.” The big man stared at me suspiciously and stroked his handlebar mustache.

  “That’s what I want, just a haircut. Can you make me look presentable?” His face lit up, like he was excited that he’d be the one to do the job.

  “Sure, sure. You leave it to Charlie. I’ll make you look like a million bucks. Ain’t that right, Woody? Hey, Woody. Wake up! I done told you, no sleeping in my shop.”

  The old man seated in the waiting area ignored him and carried on enjoying his nap. Charlie snipped away and talked about some ball team as he cut off my wild strands of gold and I didn’t feel a single pang of regret through the whole thing. When I left, I barely recognized myself, but according to Charlie and Woody, I did look like that million bucks I was promised. It was a good feeling.

  On my walk home, I could tell right away that hair does make a difference. I got a few more looks from the ladies, and even a few older people smiled at me. About a block from my house, I pulled my hoodie up over my head. I wanted to get home without causing any problems, so I took side streets and checked my front yard before I went in. I stepped in the back door and was relieved to discover that my mom wasn’t home.

  Next, I’d need a job, a real job. I scanned the newspaper I’d gotten from Elaina and searched for something legal I could do. Mechanic was all I could think of. There weren’t any listings for mechanics, so I decided I’d just go to the garages and ask there. I had a few connections in this city—people knew I could work on cars. Maybe someone would be willing to overlook the fact that I’d been incarcerated if they knew how skilled I was. At least, that’s what I hoped.

  I decided to clean the house first. It was disgusting and still a wreck from the cops’ uninvited visit. There was really no hope for the carpet, but I did empty the trash, I swept up all the papers that blew about on the floor by the screen door, cleaned the kitchen and cleaned up the broken mirror and glass in my room. I grabbed the edge of the dresser, as I always did, and started to drag it into place, but I then I changed my mind. No, not this time. Everything is going to change now. I’m not hiding from the world anymore.

  Two days later, I had a job working at Stokes Automotive on Highland Street, just four blocks from my house. I kept my tattoos covered like my new boss, Jesse, asked me to and I kept my mouth shut. Having been upfront about my current legal predicament, he seemed sympathetic. That was a relief—most of these car shop owners wanted to hire people with clean records.

  Lucky for me and not so lucky for him, Jesse’s brother was upstate, serving time for selling stolen car parts. He did, however, want to talk to Mr. Jernigan, who assured him that I had good character and would work hard. That was cool of him to do that, since he didn’t really know me. He let me know that having a job would help me when I went before the judge. We had an appointment in a couple of days, and he sounded hopeful. I did my best not to obsess over Mollie. It was going to happen but I had to stay focused on the moment. She was still my long-term goal.

  “Hey, Jesse, I have a question for you.” He and a few of the guys were sitting in the office munching on donuts before we got started for the day. “I see you got that other garage in the back. You ever use that
?”

  “Occasionally. Sometimes when one of the guys’ cars breaks down or we have a restoration project that’s going to take a long time. I can’t have those taking up space from our daily workload. Why? You thinking of fixing that wreck of yours up? How bad did the cops treat it?”

  “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be, and most of the damage I’d already done. It’s like this, though. I got an offer to race for Stockton, but that was going to be my try-out car. I may have missed my chance, but I think if I show up with a car, they might let me try out for them. I was hoping I could work in the garage back there, you know, if you don’t mind, on my off hours. I’d like to give it a shot.”

  He slapped me on the back, his huge beard shaking. “Stockton? You don’t say. Hell, yeah, you can use it!”

  “Great! When can I bring it in?”

  “Give me a couple of days to finish that Impala in there. The final coat goes on tomorrow, then it’s all yours. But there are a couple of things you should know. That lift only goes up about four feet. It’s got a hydraulic leak and there aren’t many tools in there. You can use the specialist ones from the shop after hours as long as you put them all back first thing in the morning before we start work and you’ll have to bring your own wrenches and stuff.”

  I grinned at him, hardly able to contain my happiness. “Thanks, Jess. I really appreciate this and I hope I can repay the favor someday. You don’t know what this means to me.”

  “Well, when you get to be a big-time racer, you can slap Stokes Automotive on the side of your car. I’ll take that as payment.” Everyone laughed, but I took note. That would be an awesome thing to do for such a cool boss. Maybe I could do something like that for him. I guess I’d find out after I landed the Stockton gig. If, and when, I did.

  The following day I had my car towed to the shop. Jesse, Mike and the two afternoon dudes surveyed the damage and examined the parts I had. They promised to help me after work and, true to their word, they did. Until I came to work for Stokes Automotive, I never knew anyone as talented at fixing cars as Jesse. Seemed like there was nothing he didn’t know about fixing cars. He knew about the exhaust problem I had with the car before the wreck ever happened, and as a thank you, I spent a chunk of my paycheck on beer and food. It was going to take weeks to fix, but at least we were on the way to getting it done.

  After I got the job, I called my attorney. I’d spent one of my lunch breaks with Mr. Jernigan, who told me that all of the charges against me had officially been dropped. The cops found no drugs and nothing to connect me to the drive-by, so those were quickly dismissed. Even the illegal racing charges were gone and as a result, Jernigan had the charges removed from my record.

  “Now the real problem is Charles DuBois. He’s the one that made the noise in the first place about you. He’s got it in for you, that’s for sure. You still seeing his daughter, Mollie?” Once again, Jernigan’s deep voice surprised me. For someone so short—he was barely five foot six—he sounded like Mufasa from the Lion King.

  “Honestly, sir, we were never officially dating. She was a friend who tried to help me, that was it. But if the whole truth be told, we did sleep together once at her house before I got arrested. I guess she’s made her decision about me, though. I haven’t heard from her at all.” I remembered something DuBois had said, that he’d cut her off, and I hoped Mr. Jernigan could fill in the blanks. “So, DuBois gave me the impression he’d booted her out on the street. Is she staying with…a friend, or something? Is she okay?”

  Jernigan leaned across his ridiculously large desk and stared at me. “That old bastard put her out like she was riff-raff. He’s treated her worse than a low-life criminal, no pun intended. How could any father do that to their only child—just toss them out on the street like they were trash? I mean, I know she’s almost a college graduate, but what he is doing is so wrong.” He smiled at me. “I’ll let you into a little secret. Did you know that I was also Miss DuBois’ attorney?”

  I sat in stunned silence. My heart palpitated as I processed this revelation.

  “No, I didn’t know that.”

  “Well, I am. Don’t worry about her. She has a good friend she’s staying with. A nice girl and she’s finishing college right on time. In the meantime, I’ve got DuBois dead to rights on a few charges. That will change everything. You okay?”

  “Yeah, uh, sorry. Just a bit stunned at the coincidence that you’re working for both of us. What are the odds of that? Would it be Natalie she’s staying with?” I didn’t know where Natalie lived, but I knew she was an almost-famous designer, so I didn’t think she’d be too hard to find.

  “I honestly don’t know the girl’s name.”

  “All right then, Mr. Jernigan. Thank you so much for all your help and for that information but I have to get back to work now. Nice talking with you again.”

  “That’s what I like to hear, working man! Go to work and I will call as soon as I know something about that last charge.”

  I waved at him, reached for my jacket and walked out of the office into the bright sunshine. It was a cool day but I felt exhilarated. Just knowing that Mollie and I were connected some way was all the encouragement I needed. Now all I had to do was convince Sylvia at Stockton Racing to give me one more chance.

  Chapter Nine — Mollie

  Dylan picked me up from the hospital after my shift and the rain was falling in sheets. It was more like someone on high had tossed out buckets of water on the folks below and I was grateful for the lift. I’d found a car that I liked, and he promised to ride with me to check it out. I couldn’t go on living, hoping that my trust would come through anytime soon. I knew it would, eventually, but I had to take care of my immediate needs. I’d managed to save enough cash for a good down payment, and I’d found a nice, “slightly used” Toyota to get me around.

  I climbed in the truck and kissed him hello. “Bad day to go car shopping. Maybe we should just go to lunch, unless you’ve got a class?”

  “Lunch sounds good and I’ve got a surprise for you.” Dylan’s grin was contagious. He had something on his mind and one thing I knew about him, he didn’t keep a good secret. I liked that. I liked the idea of dating someone who didn’t keep secrets from me. Dylan told me all about his life, the good and the bad. He was an open book. Not at all like the mysterious racecar driver I’d almost hooked up with. Hmm…thinking about Jack again, Mollie? While you’re here with Dylan? Snap out of it, girl!

  I smiled excitedly. “What? For me? What is it?” I peeked in the backseat and expected to see flowers or something like that.

  “I don’t know if I should tell you now or later. Maybe I should wait until after lunch,” he chuckled. He was having a good time teasing me.

  I smacked his arm playfully. “Now, of course. I won’t be able to eat anything if you don’t.”

  “Okay, okay. I checked out that car already. It’s a good one, so good that I bought it. I bought it for you, Mollie. You need it.”

  I knew I should be happy, but I wasn’t. I had worked hard at being independent and I didn’t want or need a man to come rescue me. “No, Dylan. You can’t do that. I’m buying the car.”

  He gave me his boyish smile. “I’ve already done it, Mollie. It’s sitting in your driveway. A friend drove it over for me.”

  I almost choked. I didn’t know what to say to him. I know he expected me to be over-the-top happy and grateful, but I wasn’t. I was pissed—and that was putting it mildly. I’d never say it out loud, but pissed off wasn’t a strong enough description. I was full-blown, freakin’ mad. Not to mention disappointed.

  “Well, you’ll have to take it back, Dylan. I’d already arranged to buy it. I’m not some charity case, you know.” He couldn’t possibly know it, but what he’d done was totally a Charles DuBois move—manipulating me through money. I wasn’t going to be manipulated ever again.

  “Wow! This isn’t the reaction I’d expected.” Dylan stared at me with a confused look on his face.
“Sorry, I just wanted to help, that’s all.” His feelings were hurt. I could hear it in his voice but I wasn’t going to give way on it.

  “Listen, I totally believe you meant well,” I sighed. He’d never understand. “All my life, I’ve had my father taking care of me. When that ended, I had nothing.”

  He shook his head. “This isn’t the same thing, Mollie. I don’t want to control you. I wanted to do this because I like you.”

  I reached out, touched his hand then squeezed it. “I believe you, but we can’t do this. Giving me a car is way too much, Dylan. That’s too much pressure on me—and you. Let’s slow down and take our time, okay.”

  He wasn’t happy, but he agreed. He pulled the car on to the road and we went to lunch. There was an awkward silence for a while, then he smiled and said, “Do you know anyone who wants to buy a Camry?”

  I punched his arm playfully. “I’ll buy it. I’ve got the down payment but I’ll have to make payments to pay it off. Either that, or we can take it back to the seller.”

  “Okay, you can buy it from me. It’s a great car, by the way. The motor is tight and the transmission is brand new. You got it for a steal.”

  “Gee, I’ve never stolen anything before.” I was happy for the turn of conversation. We didn’t talk about the car again and instead talked about school, Dylan’s new job and the upcoming holidays. Dylan loved Mediterranean food, so we ordered hummus and chicken wraps. It was a little cool out, but the restaurant had the outdoor chimneys going. Casual and romantic, the rain had stopped, but I was grateful for the overhang anyway.

  “I’m sorry about the car, Mollie. I didn’t think about it being anything but a gift.”

  I tried to smooth his hurt feelings with a sincere smile. “I know you meant to help. It’s very sweet of you, but one thing you’ll learn about me is that I’ve become a very independent woman these last few months. I’ll just buy it from you like we agreed, and everything will be cool. We’ll sign a contract and everything, unless you want to sell it back.”