CHAPTER 50
harley
Water spilled across the kitchen floor. It wasn’t a trickle.
It was a full-on gush of water out of the pipes.
Leave it to me to try to fix one thing only to make everything worse.
I was soaked and angry. I wasn’t even angry at the water.
It was everything… Vivienne throwing a tantrum about my staying, the sheer amount of shit in this goddamn house, the smell lingering despite the open windows, and the growing guilt that I could’ve somehow prevented all of this.
After calling Frank in town about getting his help fixing up the house, I changed out of my dress pants and shirt, opting for jeans and a t-shirt—something comfortable for crawling through the mess.
In an impulsive decision, I left my wedding ring in the dresser with the rest of my clothes.
Out of sight, out of mind. The relief of its absence was instant.
Unfortunately, it was short-lived thanks to a broken pipe.
I barely heard the knock on the door in all my chaos. If I wasn’t waiting for it, I would’ve missed it entirely. The minute I heard it, I tried to hurry across the kitchen and damn near killed myself in the process as I slipped in the water and crashed into a stack of boxes.
“Fuck,” I grumbled while righting myself. I couldn’t get out of this place fast enough.
Navigating the chaos, I made my way to the front door and yanked it open, expecting Frank.
I wasn’t expecting Maverick. My stomach dropped out as I just stood there staring at him, a familiar ache building in my chest—one I thought I’d worked through.
But here he was: the living embodiment of my broken heart.
The last time I’d seen him was the mug shot of him that I’d looked up online five years ago. I hadn’t been able to resist looking him up to figure out if it was all true. He looked… incredible.
His rough edges had softened some, smoothed out in the clear lack of anger written on his face.
It was as if he’d found peace in the past five years, and for some reason, that bothered me.
His dark hair was cut shorter, and the beard on his face was neatly tailored to his sharp jaw.
A new scar split his left brow, raising questions I wasn’t sure I’d ever find out the answer to.
His gaze dragged over me, too clinical and uncomfortable, leaving me exposed for his judgment. Part of me wanted to know what he was thinking, but the other part didn’t.
The universe was fucking with me. That much was clear. The only person I didn’t want to see while in Wilde Bay was standing on my front porch, looking like his life was better off without me. It cut a lot deeper than I wanted to admit aloud.
I wasn’t emotionally equipped to face Maverick again.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded. It came out harsher than I meant it to, but panic had already taken the wheel.
“Is your mother home?” he asked, his voice flat and almost… bored. Was this boring him?
“What?” I snapped, frowning. Why the hell was he asking about my mother? If anything, she had to be one of the last people he wanted to see.
“Is your mother home?” he repeated, slow and loud as if I was the one being difficult.
My thoughts were scattered. Just the sound of his voice triggered an onslaught of emotions I didn’t want. My pulse thundered in my ears, making the world a little hazy and unsteady.
“Uh… no,” I whispered, shaking my head. My jaw worked, trying to catch up with my mind.
The painstakingly familiar spiral pressed in on me like it always did when I was hit with too much at once.
I wouldn’t fall apart in front of him. Thankfully, he said nothing and just waited.
“I’m sorry… it’s just been a long fucking day.
No, my mother is in an assisted living center. ”
A flicker of shock passed over his face, but it vanished quickly.
“So, she’s not here?” His push for that answer confused me, but I couldn’t blame him. My mother had always hated him.
“No, she’s not here,” I repeated.
“And she’s not coming back?”
Something ugly and honest bubbled up in me before I could stop it.
“God, I hope not.” Shit, I shouldn’t have said that out loud. Not given the circumstances. I tried to recover as quickly as I could, “Sorry, that was…. No, she’s not coming—I’m sorry, the kitchen is flooding, did you want… you’re the repair guy, aren’t you?”
That realization hit like a truck. And for the first time, I saw the tool belt he was wearing and the equipment he had with him.
This couldn’t be happening.
“I called Frank,” I said it like it mattered—like somehow it’d change the circumstances.
“I work for Frank again,” he told me.
Of course, he did because why wouldn’t he?
Of course, the universe would find a way to drop him on my doorstep when I was already drowning.
The universe had one hell of a sense of humor.
“Of course, you do,” I muttered.
“Show me the kitchen,” Maverick replied instead. He was so damn polite it actually bothered me. He spoke to me like we were strangers—like our entire history had been erased.
I stepped aside to let him in, my heart beating so fast that he could probably hear it as he passed. He stopped dead in the entryway, and I watched his gaze scan over the stacks of boxes everywhere.
“Don’t ask,” I cut him off when he opened his mouth. I didn’t want to explain my mother to him, either.
“Okay.” He nodded. I led the way back to the kitchen. Before I could say a word, he slipped past me to deal with the rushing water. “You didn’t turn off the water.”
I kept quiet because the idea didn’t occur to me. Maverick knelt in the water and wedged himself under the sink. His struggle to fit made me all too aware of the broadness of his shoulders and back. That was new.
“For future reference… there are two knobs in the far corner,” he said, grunting as he worked to turn them. “They’ll shut off the water to the sink, but nothing else…”
He leaned back to stare at the pipes.
“Huh.” He let out a confused sound as his head tilted slightly to the side. “Well, fuck.”
Despite him turning everything off, the water continued to leak from the pipes. While it wasn’t a heavy gush anymore, it was still something. I resisted letting out a groan of frustration. This house was turning out to be far more than I bargained for.
“All right, look,” Maverick began as he pushed off the floor, “I’m going to find the main shut-off valve downstairs.”
“Okay,” I said.
“It’ll probably be a few hours before I can get your water back on, but it’ll make it easier to fix this,” he gestured to the broken pipes, “if I’m not fighting the water flow.”
“Whatever you think will work best.” I didn’t have a clue how to fix any of this. “The basement door is around the corner there. I’ll be up here trying to work on… something.”
I didn’t know where to begin.
“Okay.” He made a beeline for the basement door while I stood helplessly in the kitchen.
I dragged in an unsteady breath. His presence was suffocating, testing my very will to stay in one place. I didn’t know how to act around him, and his professional manner didn’t help any. If anything, it was worse. It was as if he were unfazed by me.
“Harley,” he called up the stairs. I actually hated how my name came out of his mouth—neutral and simple. “You’re going to want to come down here.”
Oh, I hated the sound of that too. I didn’t want to know what was wrong down there now. I couldn’t handle any more. Still, I hurried down the stairs only to stop halfway down. Maverick stood in a good inch or two of water that filled the basement. It was everywhere.
Panic kicked up in my chest at the sight of it all. Oh, no, no, no.
“Did I do this?” I asked weakly. This was what I got for trying to take care of this problem myself.
“Unlikely,” he replied. “Houses this old are temperamental if they’re not properly maintained. Considering the state of the house—at least what I could see—the pipes probably aren’t much better.”
“Oh.” At least that was a little reassuring.
“I shut off the main valve, but I have to get the water out of here before I can do anything else. I’m going to go back to Frank’s to get the shop vac. While I probably can’t fix the pipe problem, I’ll still look into it. I do know a plumber and can get him out here if needed.”
Great. More people to scrutinize the situation. That was just what I wanted.
“I’d start moving boxes upstairs to save what you can,” Maverick continued. “Okay?”
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“I’ll be back. Is it okay if I leave the front door unlocked and let myself back in?”
“Yeah,” I repeated. “I’ll just be here… undoing everything.”
Without another word, he left me standing in the shambles of a life I didn’t want him to see. I sat on the step, my head falling into my hands while my chest heaved. Fuck, I hated this.