Chapter 12 #3
Carlton and I have been trying to figure out where this slab of wood fits for over twenty minutes and once again, it doesn’t.
He hangs his head once he sees what I’m seeing. With a huff, he drops the piece, letting it join the other scattered parts. “Did this seriously not come with a manual?” he asks for the hundredth time.
At my look, he lifts his hands in surrender. “Fine, there was no manual. It’s just very unusual.”
Shrugging, I pick up another slab. “I’m certainly never ordering a playhouse from them again.”
He squeezes my shoulder. “No stress, we’ll figure it out together.” He turns to the absolute carnage of pieces littered everywhere, muttering, “Eventually.”
The sound of the patio door opening has us turning to find Allie, Emmy firmly attached to her hip, and my god, I can’t remember the last time I saw such a spark in her eyes. When Drew passed, it was like she died a little inside, but now, a small part looks like it’s been reignited.
I know how she came into my life wasn’t ideal, but Emmy is a blessing. For not only me, it seems.
“You have a visitor,” Allie calls out.
Grayson steps through the door, wearing activewear and a tool belt around his waist. “Heard you needed an extra hand.” He steps aside with a smirk. “Or maybe a few.”
Irving bursts through the door. “Hello, hello, fuckers!”
With a frown, Grayson clips him across the back of his head. “Watch your language, there’s a kid here!”
Irving winces, rubbing the tender spot. “Shit, Cap—” He smacks his lips, hanging his head. “There’s no hope for me.”
Grayson shakes his head, moving Irving out of the way. Johnson, O’Connor, Mitchel, Lewis, Ellington, and Valenti barrel through the door.
My heart soars, absolutely skyrockets at the sight of my guys—my family—here to help me, all of them carrying various tools as if they are my own building crew.
“Oh, thank the heavens,” Carlton says.
I can’t stop my smile from spreading. “Fuck, you guys have no idea how happy I am to see you.”
Mitchel strides over, winking. “Knew you loved my pretty face.”
“Not as much as you love mine,” I taunt as I clap his back.
“How come Kieran can swear and I can’t?” I hear Irving mutter.
Ignoring him, I try to relieve the buzzing of emotions that bombard my chest but I’m too overcome with gratitude and love for the guys showing up for me like this.
Until Johnson opens his grumpy ass mouth. “Did you even start?”
Hands on my hips I give him a look. “Of course I did, fucker. There’s no manual.”
“There has to be a manual. There’s a manual for everything.”
“Not this one apparently,” Carlton murmurs.
“I’m taking Emmy inside before her first word starts a swear jar,” Allie huffs, and I snort at her retreating form.
Irving strides up to us, confidence oozing from the fucker, his pouting apparently long gone. “Don’t worry dude, the Irv builder has arrived!”
“The Irv builder? What the fuck is that?” Mitchel scoffs.
Lewis slings an arm around his best friend. “I happen to like it. Has a nice ring to it.”
“Of course you like it, you twat. You think Irving shoots rainbows out his ass,” Johnson quips.
And suddenly, I’m very thankful that Allie snuck inside with Emmy. Trying to get these guys not to curse is…well, impossible.
“Irv…ing,” he says slowly as if we’re the stupid ones. “It’s my last name shortened. Irv the builder.”
Ellington’s lips twitch. “Yeah, we got that, buddy.”
“Have you ever built anything in your life?” Johnson asks.
Irving puffs out his chest. “Yes, of course I have.”
“Like what?”
“Plenty of things that need building.”
As this is no doubt about to turn into a pissing contest between them, I interrupt with, “Look, it’s meant to be a swing set attached to a playground. It shouldn’t be this complicated.”
I’m actually a fantastic builder, but this set arrived completely dismantled. They didn’t even put holes in for the nails. It’s raw wood, with some pieces still needing to be sanded, unless I want Emmy covered in splinters.
“A playhouse?” Grayson asks as he joins us. “No wonder you didn’t get far. It’s like they sent you a tree and said good luck.”
I point to the box it came in, the only picture we got with the end result. “That’s what it needs to look like.”
Grayson frowns over at it. “And it really has no manual?”
That damn question.
Carlton, already knowing how much he harassed the shit out of me, turns to his son. “Believe it or not, no manual.”
“Can’t we just build a treehouse with the pieces?” Irving asks.
Valenti rolls his eyes. “And what makes you think building a treehouse is going to be any easier?”
“Debby downer,” Lewis mutters, earning a snicker from Irving.
Grayson claps, stepping into his roll as captain, the one rightfully made for him. “All right boys, we got this. Irving, you’re in charge of separating and sorting the nuts and bolts.” He points a finger at him. “Don’t swallow anything.”
Irving throws his hands in the air as everyone laughs. “You swallow a battery by mistake one time and are forever marked! It’s ludicrous.”
“Not as ludicrous as swallowing a battery,” I mutter under my breath.
Johnson pinches the bridge of his nose. “I mean, who the fuck mistakes a battery—a battery—with a black olive?”
Irving sends a seething glare in his direction. “Very fucking easily when the battery looks identical to the bowl of olives next to it!”
“Mitchel, Johnson, and Lewis, you’re on the building portion with my dad.” Grayson turns to me. “Valenti, Ellington, and Ashford, you’re on cardboard duty. Break up all the pieces and take it to the front and while you do”—he looks over at Valenti—“find a damn manual.”
“Hey!”
Ignoring me, Grayson turns to his dad. “Let’s get this done before the sun sets.”
Valenti, Ellington, and I get to work on breaking down the boxes and moving them to the front of the house where I’ve been storing the trash cans. There’s a mountain of boxes already piled up here waiting for collection on Tuesday.
Ellington throws one of the boxes a little harder than necessary, and when I look over, his jaw is clenching and unclenching. Valenti is also quiet but that’s normal; he’s the broody asshole out of the bunch of us. But Ellington’s silence?
Something’s wrong.
“What happened?” I ask, my voice seemingly jarring Ellington out of his thoughts.
“What?” he asks, following me as we go to break down more boxes. In the backyard, the guys have unsurprisingly begun fighting and yelling over which piece to put where.
“Did something happen?” I probe again.
“Nothing,” he mutters, ripping up the boxes, again far too aggressive for what’s needed.
Valenti pauses. “Kieran’s right, you’re…acting like me.” He pulls a face as if he sucked on a lemon. “Why the hell are you acting like me?”
“And how do you act?” Ellington asks, hauling together a pile of boxes.
“Like a moody prick,” he says, making me snort. Valenti turns to me. “Am I wrong?”
“Not at all. I’m very proud to hear you’re self-aware.”
Ellington rolls his eyes as he throws the boxes down and spins to us abruptly. “It’s Evie.”
“Your sister?”
Valenti turns to stone beside me.
Ellington nods. “It’s that pathetic fucking boyfriend of hers.”
A frown furrows my brows. “I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”
They both roll their eyes at me.
“Fuck, is he that bad?” I ask.
Valenti cuts his gaze toward me, the sun shining along his brown skin. “He doesn’t deserve the title of boyfriend, let alone being hers.” That last word is punctuated with a growl, making one of my brows rise. “What did the fucker do this time?” he asks.
“What didn’t he do?” Ellington all but shouts in frustration. Sliding his fingers through his tousled hair, he groans. “They were meant to go on a trip together in six weeks, and guess what this bastard does.”
“No,” Valenti says.
“Oh yes,” Ellington spits through gritted teeth.
“She’s been saving for a year, has been planning that damn vacation and telling everyone how excited she is for months.
Meanwhile, he doesn’t lift a finger like the little manchild he is…
” He takes a deep breath to calm himself before going on to explain.
“She called me in tears last night and confessed that she has been begging him to confirm that he likes the hotels she picked and every time he’d tell her that they’d talk about it later.
Now, six weeks before the trip, that prick drops the bomb that he suddenly can’t afford it and doesn’t think he can go.
” His fists clench by his sides. “She told me she even offered to pay for his portion because she’s so excited to go but he refused. ”
I frown. “Can he genuinely not afford it?”
Valenti barks out a humorless laugh. “No, he has money. He works in finance, and he somehow could afford a last-minute trip to Japan over Christmas and left her alone over the holidays.”
I shake my head to keep up with all this new information and the venom I can evidently hear in Valenti’s voice. “Wait, Evie was alone over Christmas break? But didn’t he—”
“Promise not to leave her alone during the holidays like he did the year before? Yes, and he broke that promise too.”
“He’s a prick.”
“A huge prick,” Valenti growls.
I watch him carefully. Ellington is so consumed with his own anger that I don’t think he’s noticed the fact that Valenti is a little too angry for his best friend’s younger sister.
“The holidays are a big deal to Evie,” Ellington whispers, and there’s an edge to his voice, a deep sadness, that I rarely hear from him.
“But recently she started refusing to come to any family dinners, even Christmas, and I thought it was because she was spending it with that twat of a boyfriend but she confessed last night that he bailed on her.”
My mind whirls, utterly consumed with questions, and by the tornado behind Valenti’s eyes, so is he. Why has Evie suddenly started refusing to spend time with her family?
What the hell happened?
Shoving my curiosity aside, I focus on the trip and ask, “What is she going to do?”
“Fuck do I know. For some reason the dick has a hold on her and she won’t leave.
Every now and then she’ll get clarity and say she’s leaving him but it’s always at weird times and then she randomly says she can’t because, oh, it’s his birthday or Christmas or he’s struggling mentally.
Honestly I wish I could shake her and make her see that she deserves so much more than this. ”
“She will,” Valenti says, something flashing in his eyes that I can’t decipher. “One day she’ll see just how amazing she is.”
Ellington shakes his head, turning back to the boxes. “Let’s hope that day is real fucking soon.”