by Leslie Scott
I walked through the parking lot, past the front facade of Felt, and kept going. There was nothing of value in the purse I’d left in Hadley’s car. My phone, my ID, and my keys were in my pockets. I didn’t want to see anyone, didn’t want to talk to anyone. I wanted to be alone.
I was too ashamed to face them anyhow.
I’d thought the time I spent away from home at college was the worst of my life. I’d thought coming home, back to Jordan and my life in Arkadia, would be the best thing for me. I never imagined coming home would bring so much pain. That Jordan could hurt me worse than Caleb had and make me feel like less than nothing.
Imaginary fingers grabbed my throat and squeezed. Behind me cars left the parking lot of the club. How many of them would slow or stop, how many would try to get me off the highway? Most of them, as most of them knew me.
I couldn’t bear to talk to any of them, to see a single one. So, I jogged down the ditch and dashed across the field beside the bar. There was a neighborhood there, I soon meandered through it’s quiet streets. Every few seconds my phone buzzed in my pocket. Bree, who I was sure my brother had called, Hadley, Aiden, Hunter, Vic, and even a few calls from Jordan.
His face flashed across my screen until the buzzing stopped. I couldn’t speak to any of the others right then. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to speak to Jordan.
It was raining by the time I found myself in the parking lot of Casey’s Speed Shop. I was soaked through as my trembling fingers forced the key into the lock of the side door. Dark and empty, the back of the shop was almost spooky.
The rain was loud on the tin roof and it took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the darkness that surrounded me. Turning on the lights would give me away. Instead, I locked the door behind me, before crossing the smooth concrete floor. My footsteps echoed eerily.
I found shop towels and dried off as best I could before donning a huge t-shirt from the boxes kept for employees. In my dad’s office, there was a love seat and a couch on opposing walls. On the couch was a large throw and a pillow. Probably there if Mom ever decided to stick Dad in the dog house, not that it would ever happen.
I snatched them, curled on the loveseat, and forced myself to sleep. I was so drained, emotionally and physically, that sleep came easier than I’d thought possible.
I woke to the sound of soft snoring. Something I shouldn’t be hearing considering I was sleeping in the shop, alone. With my heart pounding in my chest, I sat straight up and looked over to the other couch. Aiden was there, sawing logs.
I threw a hat from my dad’s desk at him. When he turned and opened a sleepy eye, I squawked, “What are you doing here?”
“Me?” He rubbed his face. “You look pretty comfortable over there, kid. With my pillow.”
“I figured it was Dad’s.”
He yawned. “My spare. Why would Dad need a pillow here?”
I lifted a shoulder. “How often do you sleep here?” I fought back a chill from the rain, that I hadn’t lost and pulled the throw tighter around me.
“More often than you, apparently.” He stretched. “I shot Bree a message last night when I found you here. Let her know you were all right. She freaked out and told Mom when she found out you ran off.”
“Damn,” I groaned and lay back on the little sofa. My parents knowing about what happened meant more explanations. There were only so many heart-to-hearts I could have with them about my relationship before it grew tiresome for all of us.
To avoid the impending headache pushing just behind my eyes, I focused on something else. “How often do you sleep here?”
He shrugged as he sat up and rubbed his face with his hands. “Enough that I know where Dad hides the good coffee.”
As he padded out and over to the break room to make a pot, I slipped on my mostly dry jeans and sought out my phone. It immediately erupted into a chorus of beeps and dings as messages and missed calls rolled in. Most messages stopped not long after I’d fallen asleep, except those from Jordan. Those seemed to come endlessly. Without reading any of his messages, I tossed the phone back on the couch.
Jordan had finally accomplished what he’d been trying to accomplish all along. He’d pushed me away. I was done. I wouldn’t be going back.
Aiden slipped through the door carrying two steaming cups. “I remembered you liked yours with so damn much cream it’s not even coffee anymore.”
He was right, I happily took the cup he offered and let the warm, sweet liquid hit the spot.
Aiden gestured toward the bank of screens on my dad’s desk and laughed. “Sometimes I think he hangs out back here to watch this stuff like it’s a soap opera.”
He was making small talk to avoid the two dark clouds hanging over us. Our relationships, his with Wendy and mine with Jordan. For several long minutes we sat in silence.
Neither of us were much for awkward silences.
“Why di—” I started.
“What d—” So did he.
We both laughed and I took another sip of coffee. “I was surprised to see you here, I figured you’d gone home.”
Aiden swung his arm over my shoulder. “I pretty much sleep here every night.” He tilted his head toward the dingy tile floor beneath our feet.
“For how long?” I chewed my bottom lip to keep from saying anything else. It hurt my heart to know he’d been sleeping here, not at home with his family. I wasn’t, however, surprised by it.
“For a couple of months. I go home and help her with the kids in the evenings. But if I stay past that, we usually end up in a fight. I figure she’s got someone who comes over after I leave, anyway.”
My stomach did a sickening roll. He didn’t need or want my sympathy. He’d be too proud to accept it. That fact didn’t stop me from hurting for him.
“Does Mom know?” Our mother would have an absolute fit if she knew her baby boy was sleeping at work.
“No, but Dad does.” He contemplated his coffee mug.
When my phone started ringing from where I’d thrown it on the couch, Aiden leaned over to see who it was. “It’s Jordan.”
“I don’t want to talk to him.” I snatched up the phone and silenced it before Aiden could answer it for me.
“Rae—”
I held up a hand. “Aiden, don’t.” I could sympathize with his position on most things where Jordan and I were concerned. But after what Jordan said to me, my brother should be jumping to my defense not looking at me with puppy dog eyes. “Did you hear what he said to me?”
His eyebrows drew together, drawing attention to his cobalt colored eyes. “When?”
“When I got between him and Hunter?”
“I didn’t hear anything, everyone was shouting in my ears, and I was trying to get to you.” He took another sip of coffee.
“He said that Devin was right about me.” I regretted the words and the petty part of me that said them as soon as they’d left my mouth. Telling my brother had been a mistake, a big one.
The defiant anger that we Caseys were known for flashed in his eyes. I was his sister, he wouldn’t let that stand, not even from his best friend. I was ashamed of myself for telling him. I could make up all sort of excuses. But truth was, I’d wanted to hurt Jordan in some way. No matter how childish it was.
I was angry he would think of me that way, speak of me that way. Angry because he wasn’t the man I’d thought he was. I’d shared all of myself with him, told him all my secrets. He stripped me raw, made me feel as dirty as Caleb had. Maybe worse, because I loved Jordan.
The clanging bells echoing around us signaled someone pulling into the back parking lot. We both turned to the monitors. If I’d wanted to set Jordan up, I couldn’t have timed his arrival more perfectly.
“You told him I was here?” I groaned, closing my eyes.
“Nope.” Aiden slid from the desk and rested the coffee cup on the desk. He was too quiet, he moved with far too much ease. For the first time since I’d known him, I was afraid for Jordan. “H
e’s here to see me.”
“He knew you’d be here?” And hadn’t told me? Of course, Jordan would have known, I shouldn’t have been surprised he didn’t tell me. The package deal thing must have only applied if I caught them talking. He’d never really trusted me at all. Not that it mattered, it was one more thing to stick in the column of why we’d been a bad idea in the first place.
Aiden wasn’t listening to me. He was past the point where my words would matter. He was walking out of the office and hitting the button to raise the farthest bay door. As it rattled open to the bright morning light, Jordan’s restored Chevy truck came into view.
I couldn’t breathe or so much as move, at least until Aiden’s left hand snatch up a pry bar as he walked through.
I didn’t run after him or try to step between them. It was my own macabre self-punishment to watch the destruction of this friendship as well. So, I walked slowly, dying a little bit with each step.
Aiden pointed the hardened piece of steel right at Jordan as he walked toward him. “I told you”—he dug the bar’s point into Jordan’s chest—“not to hurt her.”
Jordan stood stock still, the only motion was the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. He pushed the point of the pry bar to the side as he spoke. “You won’t be needing that to kick my ass, Aiden.” He held his hands spread out wide. “First shot’s free.”
Aiden dropped the bar and hit him in one fluid motion. I gasped and flinched, for even I wasn’t prepared for the force of it. He didn’t lift weights like Jordan and the others, Aiden didn’t work out quite that much. But he did put in work and he was scrappy. The blow knocked Jordan’s head back with a snap.
Jordan stumbled, and my brother caught him again with a sharp jab to the side. That shot had Jordan bent double and leaning against his truck. “I deserved that,” he grunted.
“You’re damn right you did, you piece of shit.” Aiden growled the words, the head of steam he’d built up was evaporating. Scrappy Aiden might be, but Jordan was still his best friend and he wasn’t fighting back.
I hated myself for taking pleasure in the shots my brother had landed. And more because afterward I felt sorry for Jordan. I had to fight the urge, even now, to go to him.
This wasn’t my business, not anymore. I washed my hands of it. I didn’t want to be the person I was becoming. I’d rather be numb.
I pushed away every emotion inside me while I changed in the office. It made the jaunt to the delivery truck much easier. Numb, I could look at Jordan and not break into a million pieces.
He leaned against his truck, sporting a rapidly swelling eye beneath the bill of his black cap. I fended off the gut-check reaction he brought in me, thankful my steps didn’t falter.
Aiden lifted a hand in salute as I crossed the parking lot. Though he wasn’t trying to pummel Jordan anymore, his face was still cold and angry. I assumed Jordan was making amends. But when he moved to intercept me, one hard glare from my brother held him still.
I was thankful for Aiden in that moment, as he aided my escape. I was big enough to know they needed each other. It wasn’t my brother Jordan had destroyed. I had to find peace with that.
Chapter Twenty-Four
It took me several weeks to find my footing again, almost a month since the crash had claimed Devin’s life. Jordan had stopped trying to call me, had stopped trying to contact me altogether. I supposed I owed the lack of Jordan’s presence to Aiden. Whatever had happened between them outside the shop, their conversation after the confrontation, they’d both moved on from it.
The continuation of their friendship came with strings, Aiden told me at one point. I figured those strings were all about me, so I let it lie. I didn’t want to know about much of anything, it hurt too much to think about Jordan.
Life was moving on. I was finding that while painful, I had the ability to move on from Jordan. I was still in love with him, I always would be, but I could find peace without him. I still thought often about Devin. I’d already visited his grave. He wasn’t there, but spending time with the polished stone helped me feel closer to him.
I no longer blamed him for being angry with me.
I had learned to stop blaming myself too, somewhere along the way. In doing so, I began to like myself again. I’d liked who I was before Caleb and before Jordan. I found that girl again, I embraced her.
Late one Saturday night, I found myself sitting on the tailgate of my sister’s truck, eating fries, and watching the first street races since The Street King Showdown, since Devin died. I cheered for those I considered friends. Inside, I cheered a little bit for all of us.
Bree didn’t hide her enthusiasm, shouting and cheering as she always had, like nothing else had happened. I didn’t begrudge her that. It wouldn’t be fair to any of us. My sister deserved to find happiness again.
I swung my legs and watched the festivities happily, laughing as Breanna jumped on Rascal’s back celebrating a win for Vic.
When it was Jordan’s turn to race, I found it didn’t hurt to smile. As long as I didn’t do too much thinking about what had happened between us, I didn’t feel all the pain of the past.
I was surprised that the ʼ65 sat at the start line in place of the Malibu. The old red truck led from the start, never backing down, winning with a gap between cars.
“Whoo!” Breanna shouted before giving me a sheepish look.
I shook my head. “It’s okay, Bree, really.”
She smiled as she did a wiggling boogie all the way back to me. “I love you, Raelynn.” She placed a kiss to the top of my head. Breanna and I had been closer than ever in the weeks since the crash.
“What’s he doing?” This from Rascal, as the car Jordan had run against made its way back to the start line. I followed his gaze to the opposite end of the street where Jordan’s truck sat idling, barely visible save for the red glow of the taillights.
I was walking before I had time to question it, moving before I could stop myself. I’d moved on, at least that’s what I tried to convince myself. Yet, I’d read his messages repeatedly. I never had the heart to delete them.
I’d replayed the heartbreaking words he’d said to me, during the fight with Hunter, thousands of times.
Inside, I was at war with myself.
“Raelynn?” Breanna called after me.
I gestured for my sister to stay where she was and broke into a jog. My chest was tight. Something was very wrong, the atmosphere crackled with a tension I couldn’t place.
I was scared for the first time in a long time.
When I got to the driver’s window, Jordan was staring out into the night. He was breathing, his eyes were open and focused ahead of him. Which eased my fear. I hadn’t spoken to him in weeks, but that didn’t mean I wished any harm to him.
If something happened to Jordan…I didn’t know what I would do.
“Jordan?” I reached for him through the window but pulled my hand back as if I might get burned.
“Years ago,” he started, “I took Devin to one of these for his first time. We rode our bikes out to the canning factory. Took forever to get there, peddling the whole way. Our lungs and legs burned, but man, it was worth it.”
I could see them clearly, young and gangly, riding their bikes in the middle of the night without a second’s consideration to how much danger they could get themselves into.
“I keep thinking that if I wanted to go out, I’d want to go out like that…like he did…” The pain in his voice was gut wrenching.
“I don’t like the way you are talking.” My voice was barely audible over the rumble of the big block engine.
He took the hat off and rubbed the stubble on his head before putting it back. Then he continued as if I hadn’t said a word. “I get a thrill when I drive, it’s like being in another world, on another plane of existence. For those four or five seconds? Nothing else exists. I thought I could find that tonight.”
“Did you?” My voice cracked.
“
No.” He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. “I owe you an apology, Raelynn. I owe you a lot of them.”
Over my shoulder, behind us, several backlit forms were moving up the street. No doubt thinking the truck broke.
Jordan’s voice brought my face around again. This time he was looking right at me. “When you left with him after the funeral, I died a little.”
“Jordan.” I dropped my forehead to the cool metal of the truck door. The pain I’d fought so hard to free myself of was creeping back in. “You wouldn’t even look at me. I couldn’t stand to be there anymore. Hunter was an easy way out.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation, Raelynn.” He cut me off, his voice sad and weary.
“I know I don’t. But it’s the truth.” When I looked up I found that his face was as tired as his voice.
“Get in.” He hitched a shoulder toward the passenger side. The silhouettes that approached were close enough for me to make out Vic and Aiden.
My chest tightened for a different reason now. It would be far too easy to climb in, to forgive him, to forget everything that happened between us. I couldn’t look away from those dark eyes that had always called to me.
He wouldn’t beg, but he wouldn’t break either. The decision was mine and mine alone.
My body was piloted by someone else as I pushed off the truck and jogged around the front to climb in.
As soon as I was seated he took off like rocket, I looked back once to see a crowd of people standing not far from where the truck had been. My brother and sister were there, both of them looking as confused as everyone else.
Nobody would come after us though. My phone wouldn’t blow up with worried messages. I was with Jordan, I was safe. He’d always take care of me.
We drove for a long time in the dark, in the quiet, for so long I wasn’t even sure where we were. Not that it mattered. A sense of calm had settled over me, as if being with him made everything okay again. I’d only thought my world had righted itself without Jordan.
“Are you cold?” he asked me as we pulled up to the gas pumps at a brightly lit truck stop. I was vaguely aware of where we were, right about thirty miles out of town on the highway.