45. Chapter 45
45
I love my job. I love that every day is a different task, every week a different site. There’s a level of stress that comes with running a construction company and running multiple projects at once, but the one I’m pulling up to ranks as my all-time favorite. It’s hard to notice all the stress when I’m here. The house is beautiful; the location is stunning. Sometimes I come out here just to think, even when nobody else is here.
Today is not that day, though. We are busting ass, trying to get this place done. Things being delayed or not to plan is just part of the business, but this is one project that can’t have any of that. Which is why I pull out my phone and make a phone call that I’ve never had to make.
“What’s up, man?” Tyson’s voice bellows through my speaker.
“Hey. You remember that place I told you about on Noland road?”
“Sure do.”
“I’m a little desperate and could really use an extra set of hands.” I hate asking for favors, but I’m running out of options. I already pulled all my guys from other projects and it’s all hands on deck.
“Absolutely, man. Want me to bring Blake too? She’s in town with me.”
“If she doesn’t mind, I’ll take all the help I can get.” Tyson talks to someone away from the phone before coming back.
“We’ll be there in twenty.”
“This place is fucking beautiful,” Blake exclaims as she takes the stairs up the porch.
“You ain’t wrong,” Tyson adds.
“We have a lot to get done. Mainly upstairs. There are some fixtures that need to be attached—”
“You’re overestimating my abilities, Gibson,” Blake cuts in.
“We also have painting that needs to be done on the main floor.”
“That’s more my speed.” One of my guys walks by with a bucket of said paint and Blake perks up. “Looks like I’m needed this way,” she calls as she walks off after him.
Tyson shakes his head and we go inside so I can show him where everything is. He may have questionable sexual standards, but he knows his way around a construction site and is damn good at getting things done quickly.
With more than thirty people working for five solid hours, we were able to make major progress. I gave the all clear for the guys to stop for the day and now Blake, Tyson and I are sitting on the tailgate of my truck, taking a much needed rest.
“I appreciate you guys helping out today.”
“No problem, man. You know I’m always down to do some manual labor,” Tyson says. “Off season is always so boring. It’s nice to have something to do for once.”
“Like you don’t have someone to do every day?” Blake rolls her eyes.
“Don’t hate, Slug. It’s not my fault that guy had a girlfriend.” Tyson bumps her with his shoulder. “How’s mama Leann doing?” he asks, his attention turned to me.
“She’s doing as good as she can be. Libby is over there today keeping her company.” Both Miller’s eyes go wide. “What?”
“You left Libby alone with your mom?” Blake’s voice is up an octave.
“My mom is a good woman,” I say, feeling instantly defensive.
“It’s not about your mom. Libby doesn’t do parents,” Tyson explains.
“What do you mean she doesn’t do parents?”
“She can’t function around them. Her dad was a piece of shit and her mom was no better. Libby talks to her on the phone like two times a year, but I couldn’t tell you the last time she was actually around her,” Blake clarifies.
“Even our parents. They love her, but she still won’t be alone with them. We can’t even leave her alone in a room with Mariana or she starts to freak out,” Tyson adds.
“The people that raised her really fucked her up, Colt.”
I jump down and fish my keys out of my pocket. “Why didn’t I know this?” I don’t know who I’m mad at, but unknowingly putting Libby in that position sets a fire under me. “Wait.” I stop before I get to my truck door and turn around to find the other two have also left their spots on the tailgate. “She asked to visit her. I told her I’d have to work today, and she said she still wanted to go.” This doesn’t make any sense. If she isn’t comfortable with parents, then why is she over there?
“She wanted to go to your mom’s by herself?” Blake seems just as awestruck as I feel.
“Yes…” Tyson and Blake look at each other just as my phone starts to ring. I pull it out and see Sarah across the screen. My stomach sinks and I answer it.
“Hey Sarah.”
“Hi Colt. I’m sorry for bothering you, but I just got off the phone with the police and I felt like I should give you a call.” The pit sinks deeper.
“It’s not a bother. What can I do for you?”
“Well, it turns out the police were finally able to pin down who broke into the salon. I told them not to call Libby because I don’t know how she’ll react. But I figured if anyone was going to tell her, it needed to be you.”
“Who was it,” I ask, keeping my tone low. Both Tyson and Blake are staring at me. They can’t hear what Sarah is saying, but they look as though they understand exactly what this conversation is about.
“It was Joe.” I clench my fists to keep myself in check. I know the answer without having to ask. I know it in my bones. But taking my silence for confusion, Sarah clarifies, “Joe Clark.”
“Thank you, Sarah,” is all I can say before hanging up my phone and tossing it into my truck. I climb in and shut the door before anyone says anything.
“Colt?” Tyson finally asks through my open window. I crank the ignition and put the truck into drive.
“It was her fucking father.” And I stomp on the gas, kicking gravel up as I speed off.