Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
RUSTY
I step into the bakery-slash-bookstore and nod at the teen working the register. She waves back at me, and then I wander into the aisles. I'm an audiobook guy. Give me something about the American Revolution or something in the fantasy/sci-fi/dystopian genres, and I'm all ears. But the effort to read versus listen exhausts me.
I didn't come here for books, though. I came here because the reception on the riverwalk is terrible. The timing of Matt asking for a job earlier couldn't be better. I pull out my phone and call him.
He answers on the first ring. "This is Matt."
"Hey, it's Rusty. You haven't found a job in the last few hours, have you?"
"No, sir," Matt says quickly.
"Great, because I have a big job for you."
"I'll take anything. "
"It's temporary, but I need some help on the farm. A lot of help, in fact."
"A fruit stand?" he asks hopefully.
"There'll be some of that, but it's a lot bigger, too. I need you to help with my job. And I'll pay you double for the effort."
"Double?" Matt sounds like he's fixin' to faint. "I couldn't? — "
"I wouldn't ask if I didn't trust you, Matt. I could really use you," I tell him. I won't outright pressure the kid, but he's hesitating over the money, not the work. I don't mind giving him a nudge in the right direction. "I've had something else come up, so I need someone I can trust."
"I can handle whatever you need, sir. I won't let you down."
"I know you won't. We'll go over details bright and early at the farm tomorrow."
"Sounds good. Thank you, sir! Thank you!"
I end the call before his desperate gratitude embarrasses him. Matt is solid, but he sees himself as a risky bet. As someone with my fair share of feeling like an underdog, I know platitudes won't do a thing for his confidence. I'll have to put him to work on something challenging tomorrow so he sees how capable he is.
He won't be able to do my actual job, but I'll talk to Tripp and tap a few people from the Nest — our local warehouse — to help.
With my phone in my pocket, I look around the bookstore and spot something in the candy display at the register that makes me chuckle. It has Ash's name written all over it. I pay and am on my way out when the bell over the door rings and another customer enters.
Teddy.
My earlier fire may have subsided, but the embers of my aggravation have stayed hot and ready. Seeing Teddy after the conversation I just had with Ash fans those embers into a growing flame .
Walk away, I tell myself. I pause for a moment, but then Teddy sneers when he sees me. I let the anger in my chest bubble and boil until it spills into my limbs. I march straight up to Teddy.
"Mr. Fielding," he says. He looks like the emcee of the Hunger Games, but with frosted tips instead of purple hair.
We'd all prefer the purple.
"Mayor," I say. I don't mean to growl, but Teddy's eyes tighten like I barked at him. "I was surprised to hear you support Bill’s position. You stand to benefit as much as anyone from a little increased tourism."
"Yes, well, if your proposal had been better? — "
"Save it for someone who pretends your crap don't stink, Teddy. I know you and Bill planned this 'neutral outside investor' the whole time." Teddy flushes. I wonder if he knows he missed applying his tanner all around his hairline. "I expect you two to give Ash a fair shake. Because if I pick up a hint of sabotage … "
Teddy backs into the glass bakery display case, and then he stiffens. "You'll what? Like I care what the town drunk's son has to say to me."
He probably thought this would make me cower, but if anything, his mention of my father only stokes my fire.
"You know he hasn't been the town drunk for almost ten years." I lean in and quietly add, "Or your wife knows, at any rate."
"She likes pub food," he says through his veneers.
I stand straight and let a smile play at the corner of my mouth. "If you say that enough times, I'm sure someone will believe you."
Teddy puts his hand on the glass case behind him as if looking for something to steady himself. He narrows his eyes. "I'll give your little girlfriend a fair shot. You have my word."
"You want to shake on it? "
Teddy holds out his hand, and I take it in mine. His skin is too smooth for honest work, but his grip is firmer than I expected. He may have tacitly agreed to a truce, but this is no friendly handshake. Is he trying to intimidate me?
Teddy fake smiles and squeezes hard. I could roll my eyes, but then he says, “I could understand you goin’ to all this trouble if she were at least hot."
My hand starts crushing his before my brain can catch up.
Teddy yelps in pain, and the sound jolts me back to my senses as horror pours over me like acid. I drop his hand and mumble something between a thank you and an apology. Then I bolt out the door, my stomach churning.
I hurt him.
I hurt him.
When I’m out of view of the shop, I hunch over. I take big, slow breaths, willing the hot anger and nausea away. The scar on my knuckles shimmers in the sun, a stark reminder that my actions have consequences, that each action gets me closer to a fate I want to avoid.
A fate that feels inevitable.
No.
I will not become like him .
I can't.
I slam my eyes closed, unwilling to let my mind go any further down that dark road. Then I pinch my temples as the fire in my chest flames out, replaced with a familiar, sickening weariness. I'm so tired of people defining me as Arlo Fielding's son.
But this weariness can't compare to the anger I feel hearing someone say anything negative about Ash.
Just remembering Teddy's comment is enough to make me wish I'd kept squeezing.
The first time I met Ash, I felt like someone opened the curtains in a dark room. It was almost painful how much light she let in. My vision was blurred and dim up until that moment. I had only seen the world in grayscale.
Ash has brought so much light to my world, but it occasionally illuminates things I'd rather not see or think about. Like the scar on my knuckles.
But thinking of her makes me feel less angry, less … bad.
I'm on my way back to the riverwalk when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text from Ash's friend, Lou.
It's a group message to the rest of the Janes, except Ash isn't on it.
LOU
RED ALERT.
I'm on another text thread with the Janes because I consult with them so often doing graphic design. I've gotten used to how they communicate, and Lou is funny and honest, but she's not alarmist.
Also, why isn't Ash on this thread?
LOU
PHILIP IS IN SUGAR MAPLE!
PARKER
Philip? As in Philip Freaking Dumfries???
LOU
PHILIP FREAKING DUMFRIES
These all caps messages make my brain hurt, so I have my phone read them. Lou sends a screenshot from social media. It's a selfie of a tall, good-looking guy standing on Maple Street, and it's time stamped only a few minutes ago. The caption reads: "Time to rebuild this old town the Dumfries way." And he's tagged a company. I have a social media account for the fruit stands, so I look up Philip Dumfries and find the picture. He looks like a golden tool — pretty, expensive, and with no practical value. A wrench too soft for a bolt. A hammer too soft for a nail.
The guy is a golden hammer.
Pretty but worthless.
The account he's tagged is Dumfries Holding. A commercial development company.
Commercial development?
This is the 'neutral outside investor' Bill was talking about, I'd bet my life on it. They've brought in some big box, chain restaurant developer so they can make a bigger buck.
They don't care that this will kill every Mom & Pop shop in the town. They don't care that it will strip Sugar Maple of everything that makes it special.
A lot of words my pastor wouldn't approve of fill my mind, and I suppress the urge to punch a wall.
If I weren't already committed to helping Ash for Ash's sake, I'd do it for Sugar Maple. For Tia and the diner she wants so badly, for Nico and his vintage store, for the Chicks, who have all put blood, sweat, and tears into making something, not just for themselves, but for our town.
I've missed a few texts, so I go back to the thread and see rage from each and every one of them. I have my phone read them as I follow along.
MILLIE
I'll rip him limb from limb.
LOU
Get in line.
PARKER
Can anyone find Philip? He's probably live-streaming his dumb face reacting to "all the quaintness," or something. Let's run him out of town.
JANE
Y'all, keep it together! Someone needs to get to Ash fast!
LOU
I haven't seen her since I left her with Rusty.
Rusty??
I stare at the screen. I feel as apprehensive as you'd expect after a series of murderous texts from some seriously intimidating women. I voice-text them.
RUSTY
I just left her a few minutes ago by the riverwalk. Shouldn’t we include Ash on this?
PARKER
PHILIP IS LIVE-STREAMING HIS DUMB FACE ON THE WAY TO THE RIVERWALK.
Sorry, who's Philip?
I resume walking. My phone’s robotic voice makes their texts sound both passionless and menacing. Each text is progressively worse, and I go from walking to sprinting.
PARKER
Her emotionally manipulative scumbag ex!
JANE
Her gaslighting loser ex!
LOU
Her narcissistic scuzzbag ex.
MILLIE
Her dad's the narcissist. Philip is more of a piece of crap sociopath.
LOU
Not the time for a psych lesson, Millie!
Rusty, you're closest! SAVE ASH!
I voice-text a single word in response:
How?
LOU
By any means necessary!
PARKER
Punch him!
LOU
He'll sue you. Do NOT punch him!
The texts are still coming in, but I can't listen anymore. I'm running at full speed and have reached the riverwalk, and up ahead I see …
Ash hugging her tall, rich, handsome, emotionally manipulative scumbag, gaslighting loser, narcissistic scuzzbag, piece of crap sociopath ex.
It feels like a hand wraps around my throat, choking me while another squeezes my frantically beating heart. I can't let this guy near her. This golden hammer with his buffed nails and his expensive Italian shoes is touching the woman I love. He’s holding her casually but possessively, like a spoiled little boy who just got a present he doesn't really care about but he doesn't want anyone else to have.
If I felt anger talking to Teddy, it is nothing to the intense loathing I feel looking at this man.
The thinking part of my brain shuts down, and instinct takes over. I stride to Ash, tap Philip's shoulder, and say, "I'm gonna need you to get your hands off my girlfriend."