Page 5

I turn back around and continue on with forming the metal.

“I’m serious, Hawk. Why are you so hell-bent on pushing me about Savannah?”

“I’m not pushing shit on you, man. But you know you’re your own worst enemy when it comes to your happiness.”

“Fuck, and you’re not? You and I aren’t so different. Neither of us has been in love.”

I drop the piece of metal, making the loud clanging noise ring off the steel of the building. I pick it up and glance Sin’s way. He’s sitting there, not moving a muscle.

“No shit?”

Ignoring him, I take the rubber back to the metal, using the force to ease some of my frustrations.

“Hawk,” he shouts over the banging. “Stop for a minute.”

After a few more passes over the metal, I do as he says, and stop. “What?” I drop the mallet to the floor before placing the metal on the cart in front of me. When I spin around in my stool, he’s smiling.

“When?”

I’ve kept this to myself for fucking years, and there’s no reason to let it out in the open now. “When, what?”

“Don’t fucking do this, man. Just fucking tell me.”

“I don’t know, Sin? My entire life? High school and after? It doesn’t fucking matter now. She’s gone, and I’m pretty sure she isn’t coming back.”

Something flashes in his eyes. He stands up, the stool flies across the floor and slamming into the shelving unit. “Are you fucking serious?” His chest falls in rapid breaths. He takes a step towards me. “You were in love with my sister? Were you fucking her behind my back?”

I shoot to my feet, pissed that he would even think such a fucking thing. “You’re joking, right? You’d think that I’d sleep with your sister? That I would do that to you, to our friendship, to your family? Fuck you man!” I shove my hand into his shoulder, pushing just enough to give me enough room to leave the shop. I don’t need this shit.

“Then who?” he shouts before I get to the door. “Who the hell did you love? Who’s never coming back?”

I turn around, pissed at myself for giving him more of my time after what he just accused me of. “It was Tessa. Tessa Reese, you piece of shit.”

Without another word I turn back around, slamming my fist into the metal of the door as I leave the shop.

Tessa

“Tessa!” Shae, the manager of the bar where I work nights part time, hollers for me from across the room while she’s waving a white towel. I drop the glasses into the wash sink, wiping my hands on the front of my jeans and make my way over. “Look.” She points to the storage closet.

“What the heck,” I mutter as I stand, peering into the closet. On the ground of the dingy closet is a woman who’s hugging the yellow mop bucket, her face resting on the rim. Her legs are sprawled to the side, and she doesn’t have any shoes on. I scan the small space and don’t see a pair either, but her clothes look like they’re where they are supposed to be, so that’s a good sign. Her hair is hanging down and is submerged in the murky water. It’s going to take a lot of washes to get that stench out.

“What should we do with her?” Shae nudges my shoulder.

“I don’t know, but she can’t stay there.”

“And this is where I pull rank. You get her to her feet and find her a ride. I’ll make sure Croy remembers to keep this door locked. That’s all I need is to unknowingly lock a customer in here overnight.” She pats my shoulder and walks off.

I squat down, getting closer to the woman and the stench of the mop bucket. I poke her in her shoulder but don’t get a response, so I push my finger into her shoulder with a firmer shove but still get nothing. She’s completely out. Christ. Placing my hand on my knees, I push myself up. Not knowing what else to do, I grab the woman by her shoulders and pull her into a sitting position. Her wet, matted hair falls into her face. Her mouth slacks open allowing her mop water to trickle into her mouth.

“What the fuck?”

Croy comes up behind me, placing his hand on my waist. Usually, when a man puts his hands on me, I instinctively pull away, but I’ve known Croy since the first week I ended up in Los Angeles. I was scared and alone in a city where the only person I knew was an estranged cousin. She was my last chance. My only hope, really. She was the only one I could turn to after I ran from New Mexico. Her boyfriend at the time was Croy. Their relationship didn’t last, but our friendship did.

“Shae told me to get her out of here and get her a ride, but she won’t wake up.” I bend down again and reach for a white cleaning towel. I take the cloth and use it to push her hair from her face. “I can’t get her to wake up, let alone get her out of here.”

“Throw some water on the bitch’s face.”

At almost forty, you’d think Croy would be past the crudeness, but not a chance. For the past seven years that I’ve known him, he’s still as rough around the edges as ever. I think that’s why I’ve been drawn to him. He reminds me of the comfort of the hometown that I had before it all changed.