Page 23 of Absolution

"His dog needed the attention, not him. I was doing my job." While wanting to do him.

Dang it, stop! You do not need a man, period. Especially that man. The gorgeous god from The Hatcher Stallion Farms. Dear sweet tea and ice, I’m so screwed.

"You could've given him some attention, and maybe a J.O.B." She waggles her brows. "Ya get me?"

I roll my eyes before throwing the trash away. "Do you ever think about anything besides sex?"

"Of course, I do. I have a ton of bridal boards on my phone." Amy snickers when I pretend to gag.

"You know I don't have time for a relationship, they take so much work, and I have enough on my plate." I busy myself cleaning up the supplies on the workstation.

She grabs some towels, folding them as we talk. "There's always time for sex."

"Sex leads to kids and std's, and no one likes when either visit." I work around her, doing my best to look at her. I'm not sure how I'd handle a judgey face right now.

"But what about romance? Prince Hottie McTightass? Or a HEA?" She throws her arms in the air.

"What's a HEA?"

Her forehead wrinkles. "Happily Ever After."

"Ohh, not interested." I take the towels from the counter and put them in the closet.

Amy's shoulders slump, defeat written all over her. "What's life without romance? You haven't lived until you've loved."

"I tried once, and failed. I don't have it in me to live through something like that again."

Amy's brows knit, and I know before she even says a word what's coming. Here we go... again. "What happened to you, Scar? When I started working with you a few years ago, it was so obvious you were broken, but you've never said anything."

It never fails, every time someone asks me about my past, the same ole gut check nails me and sends me reeling into my past. A place I promised myself I'd never go again, even if given a chance to correct everything.

Sometimes, things aren't meant to be forgotten or forgiven, and that story is both of those. Still, the mere mention sends me spiraling, and I'm thrown into a whirlpool of memories and pain consuming me.

"One day Amy, I might be able to open those wounds and allow it to crawl from the darkness but not today," My stomach knots, twisting me up so tightly, it tugs on my heartstrings, and I'm thrown off by how much it still hurts. "definitely not today."

She wraps her arm around me, pulling me to her side. "I'm sorry for whatever happened to hurt you so much, Scarlet. You're an amazing woman, and someday, you're going to realize what we all know."

"Not today, I'm not. Right now, I'm bitter and so pissed off about what could've been." My chest tightens, and my instincts kick in. I'm all fight or flight, so I'm ready to bolt.

She leans back, smiling wildly. "Maybe Mister Dreamy could make you feel better."

"You are either incorrigible or insane, and neither can be fixed!" I move around her, readying my getaway.

"Either way, I'm on a mission to get you drunk or laid." She grins with a wink. "Both if you're lucky!"

I shake my head, hurrying on past her. "I'd argue about that, but I can't think of a good reason to."

My feet have never moved as fast as I'm making them right now. I usually don't engage those memories, they just flood, and like rising water, I was drowning before I could get out of the way.

Without a doubt, she's right about one thing, I need to find a way. To move beyond the barrier keeping me closed off. I need to go forward, but I have no idea what direction I should be going.

How nice would it be if someone could turn this story to the correct page in my mind, maybe then I would know where I’m supposed to be or at least what direction to go in? For that, I'd be grateful.

So many people don’t understand, living isn't the issue; but having the will to do it is. I lost all will when I lost him, and nothing has ever been the same. My life has been irrevocably changed forever, and that can’t be fixed or forgiven.

The day trudges along with no end in sight of emergencies or going home. By the time we stop for the day, the streetlights have come on. I can barely move my legs enough to climb into my SUV.

"Scar," Amy calls to me, running over. "about earlier today, I'm sorry if I crossed the line."