Chapter 10
Haven hasn’t changed at all since I’ve been alive. The old two-story buildings all along main street, lantern lampposts dotting each side, kitchy little shops, our favorite diner on the corner that has literally saved our bacon multiple times.
Speaking of, I wonder if I go see Harriet, the wonderful Black lady that treats Asher and I like her own who owns the diner, if she’ll give me some pancakes.
God, those pancakes are so fucking good. My mouth is starting to drool.
I walk down the street, hands in my hoodie pockets, and keep my head down. There aren’t many—any—people walking out right now, but my face looks pretty gnarly.
Asher caused quite the stir when he bought this place just last year. All the old geezers on City Hall thought that a tattoo shop right on Main Street would cause a fuss, but Asher didn’t let his age deter them from signing on for this. I’d never seen him so studious in his life.
My brother was working to get this place off the ground, one late-night study session over law books and business books at a time.
I did everything I could to help, but our roles switched a bit. Where I was working one job and fighting here and there, Asher was filling his days and nights with as much work as he could. Then he caught a break, and I lost one.
Now, I’m working three jobs and fighting three to four nights a week. Although, probably not very many for the foreseeable future. My hand is fucked and I can’t walk for very long without feeling like I’m going to pass out.
Pushing the door open, I walk into my brother’s oasis.
“It looks good in here,” I say loudly, and from the backroom, out comes Asher with a disbelieving smile on his face. He’s holding boxes of something in each hand but still looks at me with excitement.
“You’re here! Finally!” he says boisterously.
“I am, I… I thought about what you said,” I pull a hand out of my pocket and let it fall at my side nervously. “Obviously, I can’t fight right now.”
“Oh, so you’re going to listen to me now?” Asher smarts off and I grind my teeth. I know he’s joking but this isn’t the fucking time.
“I don’t have a death wish, Asher. I’m not stupid,” I snap and he cocks his head, raising his eyebrows like he wasn’t expecting my tone. “You can stop looking at me like that, I said what I said.”
“I’m just surprised you say it like that, that’s all.” Asher shrugs, putting the boxes down and a hand on his hip. “You’ve been quite content to run yourself into the ground.”
I stand up straighter despite the screaming in my muscles.
“I’ve done what I had to do. What we had to do.
It’s all we’ve fucking done. Working to support those we care about since we were fifteen fucking years old, and look at all you have to show for it,” I snap, throwing my hands around the shop.
“I have nothing, nothing to show for all my work. A family that only wants me around when it comes time to pay the bills.”
“Hey, I’m your family, too.”
“You know what I mean,” I say with a heavy sigh and move over to the desk that’s empty, sitting down in the rolling chair.
“I get it, Ty. I do. But you’re just wandering. What do you want?” he asks, and I know this conversation needs to happen, I just don’t think it needs to happen when I feel like I’ve been run over by a freight truck.
You should see the other guy, I internally smirk and my chest puffs up a little bit before I shake my head and focus back on the question at hand.
“I don’t know, Ashe. I really don’t,” I say, my voice rough and frustrated because I know what he’s trying to say.
He’s worried. He sees me working my ass off—like he did—and doesn’t want that for me. He knows I’m mad at my family, almost at the point of cutting them all off, but I still send every spare cent I have their way.
“I want you to work here with me. Ashes is just as much my place as it is yours. But what I want more than that is for you to find what you want. What will make you happy. Your fire has gone out, man.”
I want to snap at him. Get pissed off that he’s saying this shit when he knows why I’m like this. I want him to leave me the fuck alone about how ‘lost’ I am. Doesn’t he think I know that already? Like this life is what I want, barely making it and always fucking exhausted?
While it’s not not what I want, I wish I had the freedom to be a regular twenty-one year old. Go out, live in an apartment I can actually afford to help out with rent with, not be the one my entire family relies on to provide.
“I already said I wanted to work here. I’ve never had a real ‘dream job’ in mind, Asher. It’s not like you, discovering exactly what you wanted at fifteen. I just… I’ve just been figuring it out day by day.”
“I know,” he says gently, coming to stand in front of me and putting a hand on my shoulder. “I also know it’s been six years of ‘what-ifs’ for you.” He looks down at my wrist, and I shrug.
“What of it?”
“Do you think it’s time to move on maybe? She didn’t email you back, she got a new phone number… Maybe it’s time to let the chapter close and move forward.”
Almost unconsciously, my fingers trace the leather softly.
I know he means well.
I try to keep that thought in the forefront of my mind before I storm out.
I take a deep breath in through my nose and purse my lips in frustration. Cool your fucking jets, Ty. Do not wail on your buddy because he’s looking out for you.
Hackles raised, I shrug.
“I have moved on. I knew…Roxie,” it hurts to say her name out loud, “like six years ago for a few months. It’s fine.”
“If it’s fine then why do you still wear it?” he points out, crossing his arms over his chest.
“What the fuck is this? An intervention? Where are your customers, you obviously have too much time on your hands.” I push out of the chair angrily. He knows better than to push me about Roxie.
After she left…
Well, I waited for a few moments, hoping she’d come back and then I saw her being escorted outside and I tried to run after her.
I don’t know what I was going to do, I’ve thought about it for years.
I still don’t know if I was going to try to drag her back, kiss her again, ask them to keep her here, I don’t know.
I still don’t and I’ve thought about it daily, weekly, monthly.
I just knew that I had to go, I had to try, but Asher pulled me back. He held me by the chest and I tried to fight against him, but the fucker’s always been strong.
I bet I could take him now though.
I remember yelling out her name, and seeing her long dark hair float through the air as she turned to look at me…
She knew. She knew they weren’t going to let her go, and she did her best to protect me from it.
There was a sad, devastated smile on her face, one that said goodbye, and it only made me push against Asher harder.
“If you do anything, they could figure out that you’re out on your own.
That Hunter and I are too. We could all be taken and put into the system and you’d be forced to go back to your mom,” Asher said in my ear, pushing the reasons why I shouldn’t get involved to the forefront of my mind.
Roxie looked back as she approached a car, pulling her very full backpack over her shoulder again.
That moment was why she said she started carrying around her treasures.
My heart broke for her. For me. For us.
“I can’t just—” I said, the struggle and indecision loud in my voice.
“You can. She wouldn’t want you to.” He let me go with that, just as we saw a teacher walking down the hall towards us.
I moved as quickly as I could toward the door, and just as I hit the handle, Roxie had turned to look at me.
Our eyes met across the space and she shook her head slightly, telling me ‘no’.
Telling me to stay and not make this harder than it was.
Then, the image that haunts my dreams—or nightmares, it depends on the night—comes. Roxie blew me a kiss as a soft smile crossed her lips and a tear dropped from her eye.
She had cried. Cried for me. Because she wanted to stay here. With me.
And every single moment that’s passed since then, I’ve kicked my own ass for not doing more.
And Asher fucking knows it.
“Leave it alone, Asher,” I growl, pulling myself out of the memory. He’s not going to, I know that already and honestly, I wouldn’t be leaving him alone if the roles were reversed. “What can I do? When do I start?”
Asher nods, understanding that I’m done talking about Roxie. We’ve had a few drunk nights where I’ve confessed that I see her sometimes, and that it’s too hard to think about her. I know Asher remembers that when his eyes widen and he clears his throat.
“What are you doing today?” Asher asks with a lazy smile and picking up the boxes. “I could use some help organizing.”
A relieved breath leaves my lips and I nod. “I can do that, brother.” I hold my hand out to take the boxes and get to work.
A few weeks later and the shop is thriving, honestly.
Asher’s killing it marketing wise, and I don’t know how he’s not burnt out.
I’m still not able to fight, the concussion’s been lingering around, but thank fuck everything healed straight.
Well, my nose is now a little crooked, but I think it’s fine.
I’ve been working overtime at the office where I work during the day, but they’ve let me pick up extra shifts at night as a security guard too. I’ve been picking up as many shifts as they let me, as well as working at Ashes as much as I can. More than what Asher pays me for, that’s for sure.
I’m not used to empty time. And I can’t afford to have time where I’m not making money somehow.
Ring, ring! My phone starts to ring in my pocket and I know this won’t be good. No one ever calls me with good news.
I see Mario’s name on the screen and groan.