Chapter 2
Chapter Two
The Road to Oblivion
The rest of the week goes by slowly, but things seem to have calmed down at work.
There haven’t been any further incidents from Frank or anyone else after our little standoff, although everyone is noticeably more cautious around me.
It’s new, and I don’t know how to feel about it.
I’m used to people ignoring me, but now it feels like they’re purposefully avoiding me while simultaneously ogling me like an exhibit in a zoo. It’s annoying.
Luke still seems to hate me, which… Okay, whatever.
Even though he avoids me, I catch him staring at me sometimes, only to snap his head away when I turn to meet his eye.
I’m resigned to not let it bother me. He mostly keeps to himself anyway, so it might not be personal.
Still, it’s hard not to be uncomfortable around someone who actively looks at you like you’re an affront to nature.
The only ones who don’t seem to treat me differently are Ben, Marcus, and Eric.
They’re my oldest friends, so maybe they’re more comfortable not taking me too seriously because they know when to back off if I’m in a bad mood.
If nothing else, they laugh about how I seem to have put the fear of God in the shop with my outburst, and they act like they’re hanging around at the cool kid’s table, soaking up the benefits of badassery by association.
By Friday, I’m completely exhausted, irritable, and ready to put this mess behind me so I can relax all weekend.
I’ve mentally checked out for the day before lunch even starts, dragging myself through the motions, so when quitting time finally rolls around, all I can think about is going home and taking a nap.
I know I’ll hate life a little less after some sleep.
Despite my eagerness to get out of here, I still wind up being one of the last people to leave the shop.
Most of the guys have already fled the parking lot by the time I get outside, and only a few stragglers are left as I head to my truck.
But as I open the door, ready to hop in, I hear the most unfortunate noise behind me.
The sound of someone’s engine struggling to turn over.
It's an old, beat-up sedan—looks like a Ford, maybe, or at least the shell of one. The passenger door and hood have obviously been replaced with junkyard scrap, judging by the different colored paint jobs. The amount of rust on the body alone is enough to tell me that the thing is worthless, and by the sound of it, it’s on its last leg, if it will start at all.
Clearly, that car has seen better days. I don’t recognize the vehicle or know whose it is, which should be my first clue, but I can vaguely see the driver through the door enough to know he’s not happy.
He gives up trying to start the car and gets out, slamming the door hard enough that the windows rattle. That’s when I see that it’s Luke.
Oh, joy. Does the universe have it out for me? Have I royally fucked up in a past life, and this is me getting my karmic just deserts?
Luke looks fuming mad, and I’m afraid that if I interact with him, it’ll be like poking a hornet's nest with a stick. But I’m also aware that I’d be a dick if I didn’t at least offer to help him.
Did my mom really have to raise me right?
Seems a little inconvenient for me right now.
I’ll have to thank her for that the next time I see her. If I survive this.
We’re not so far from each other that he can’t hear me when I clear my throat to get his attention. He snaps his head up and turns his eyes to me, and there’s so much angry energy surrounding him that I feel a prickle at the back of my neck. Jesus Christ, if looks could kill.
I swallow hard and gesture to the car. “Do you need a jump?”
Luke sighs, and I can hear the irritation in it. He looks away for a second, his jaw clenching, but when he turns back, he’s calmer and doesn’t look ready to murder me. It gives me whiplash.
“You can try.” He snorts. “But I doubt it’ll work. It’s a piece of shit car.”
I nod. “It does look like a strong wind could blow it apart.”
Luke stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. I need to learn to stop talking since it’s obvious I keep saying the wrong things. But then he huffs a laugh, and I blink with confusion. I can not get a good reading on this guy.
Moving my truck around until it faces the front of his car, we pop both hoods, and I grab the jumper cables packed in my back seat, hooking everything up.
We don’t speak during any of this, but I feel him watching me, and I can’t help but glance up to meet his eyes.
He’s got a strange look on his face, halfway between a scowl and amusement.
“Try it now,” I say, and he nods, getting back in the driver’s seat.
He’s so tall that it’s odd seeing him slide into the small car, and it’s definitely an awkward fit.
Even with the seat pushed all the way back, his knees hit the dash, and his head touches the ceiling.
I wince, knowing the pain of that struggle, though it’s been years since I’ve dealt with it myself.
Luke turns the key in the ignition, but the same sputtery gurgling sound comes out of the engine. He tries a few more times, but in the end, it’s clear that this isn’t going to work. The car is well and truly dead.
Luke groans and drops his head onto the steering wheel. Honestly, it’s relatable.
“I think I’m going to kill myself now,” he says, and when he looks at me again, he suddenly bursts out laughing. I guess my horror is evident. “I’m just kidding, man. Calm down. I already did my time at the mental hospital. I’m good.”
My mouth opens like I want to reply, but he’s rendered me absolutely speechless.
I can’t tell if he’s being serious or fucking with me, though I genuinely hope it’s the latter.
This man has put me through such a rollercoaster ride of confusion that I have no way of being sure anymore.
God, I am way too tired for this shit right now.
“Okay, well,” Luke starts, after what must have been a solid minute of my intense staring at him. “Thanks for the help, but it looks like a lost cause. So. You can go now.”
It pulls me back to reality, and I frown, glancing around the now-deserted parking lot.
“Do you need a ride home?” I ask hesitantly.
“I’m good,” he snaps back, the irritation returned in his voice.
“Well, is someone gonna come pick you up?” My temper is rising, and I struggle to keep it out of my tone. I’m just trying to help him. Why does he have to be such a dick about it?
“I said I’m good.”
Luke steps out of his car and stands directly in front of me.
For the first time in my life, I’m forced to look up in order to meet his eye.
I know I’m a big guy, but holy shit. It’s so unusual that I can’t help but gawk at him even though he’s glowering down at me.
He’s trying to be intimidating, but all I can think is, how is it fair that he’s still so good-looking even when he’s angry?
Obviously, it’s only envy I’m feeling, but the sudden appearance throws me off, and for a second, I forget that we’re even at an impasse.
I mean, come on. Up close, his eyes are so strikingly blue that I stare at them longer than I probably should, marveling at the detail of every peak and valley of his irises. It’s like they’ve trapped me in some sort of spell. That, or I’m so fucking tired that I don’t remember how to blink.
The eye contact seems to unnerve him, and he looks away first, breaking the connection.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Look—” I sigh, shaking my head. I just want to go home and sleep. Is that too much to ask for? “I don’t know what the fuck I did to piss you off, but the offer stands. I don’t care what you do, but it’s either come with me or walk home. Simple as that.”
Luke doesn’t respond at first, staring across the parking lot like he’s seriously debating it. I’m about to say fuck it and go, but then, he drops his head and sighs.
“Okay, fine. Yes, I would appreciate the ride.” It comes out a little begrudgingly, but at this point, I’m getting used to the flip-flops, so it doesn’t surprise me when he sounds less snippy overall.
I nod once, collect the jumper cables, and stash them back in my truck.
Luke grabs some things from his car and then gets in the passenger seat, replying with only simple directions when I ask where he lives.
It’s a good fifteen minutes from the shop and about twenty minutes out of my way, but I keep that to myself.
I try to remember how nice my bed’s going to feel when I fall into it.
The first few minutes of the car ride are excruciatingly tense and completely silent.
Luke stares out of the passenger window like he’s brooding, with his elbow up on the sill and his chin in his hand.
I spare him a few cautious glances, not failing to notice that he looks comfortable sitting there.
Like he fits there. It’s probably the extra legroom and the fact that he isn’t actively being squished.
It's not overcrowded, even with the two of us sitting up front.
When the quiet becomes too uncomfortable, I flip the radio on, and the Michigan Public Radio station starts broadcasting.
I must have been listening to NPR the last time I had it on, but right now, what’s coming out is classical music.
Sounds like one of Bach’s violin sonatas, but I can’t be too sure.
I’ve heard it before, but in my current state, I couldn’t even begin to name it.
I debate whether or not to change the station to something Luke might like better, but eventually decide against it.
If he wants to be prickly and closed off with me, he can deal with listening to this until I get him home.
Besides, I don’t care if he doesn’t like it.
The gentle melody is soothing my wrecked nerves, so I’d rather keep it.