Chapter 36
ELLA
“I really appreciate you kids staying late tonight.” Harlan squeezes me in one last hug before heading out the door.
“Harlan, it’s just a normal Friday night. You act like we gave up Super Bowl tickets to stay and watch the garage tonight.”
Ry reaches up, grabbing the frame of the garage bay. His shirt rides up, granting me a quick glimpse of his green boxer briefs and the muscular V that dips low beneath the band of his jeans and belt buckle.
Harlan catches me staring at Ry, and I blush.
He chuckles. “May not be the Super Bowl, but some kind of scoring may be going on tonight.”
My scream echoes across the parking lot. “Harlan! And to think I was gonna say you looked nice all dressed up.”
He puffs his chest out and runs his hands over the buttons of his shirt, taking my back-handed compliment at face value. “Thank you, Ella. Crutch, take care of our girl.”
He smirks, lowering his hands and pulling a white towel from his back pocket. “I always do.”
Harlan canceled his poker game tonight to go to a party at his son’s house. Today is his daughter-in-law’s birthday, and there is a huge surprise party for her. Ry and I agreed to watch the body shop. A customer is supposed to drop a vehicle off for service sometime between seven and eight tonight on their way out of town for vacation.
Once we’re alone, I sit back down in what has become my designated rolling chair, the chair where I spend most of my free time at the garage, watching Ry and Harlan work on cars. Over the weeks, Harlan has taught me how to work the register, order parts, and stock inventory. I like helping out where I can. But my main goal right now is to quickly finish my Advanced Biology homework so it’s not hanging over me all weekend.
Ry leans down, pressing on the arms of my chair, locking my body into place. His growl is possessive and hungry, and it stirs a hot need low in my belly. “You’re staying this weekend, right?”
I tilt my head. “That was the deal, wasn’t it?”
He stands up, distemper quickly shadowing his face. “Right, the deal.”
I purse my lips. “Ryland Joseph Crutchfield, put on your big girl panties and stop complaining. You think I’m looking forward to it? The thought of you being by my side is the only way I can muster the idea of attending this function.”
Grabbing the laptop from my hand, he carefully lays it on the small table beside me. With me, he’s not so careful. And damn, I love it. He forcefully yanks me from the chair, slamming my body against his. He grabs my ass with both hands. An electric shot of desire courses from my head to my toes. “I prefer not to wear women’s underwear. I find them constrictive. So how about you wear no panties at all tomorrow, and I’ll stop complaining.”
“How about you stop complaining and I’ll think about wearing no panties tomorrow.”
He grunts. “You drive a hard bargain.”
“It’s all part of our game, isn’t it?”
He gently kisses the tip of my nose. “Game on.” Releasing me, leaving me wanting, he disappears into the bathroom for a shower.
Fifteen minutes later, he walks back out to join me, drinking a beer. His hair is still damp, and he’s wearing cargo shorts and a mint green Harlan’s Garage and Automotive shirt. His clothes and skin are always so clean. For someone who works with grease all day, every day, you’ve never met someone with as good of hygiene as Ry.
“After the customer comes, do you wanna go get something to eat? Or do you want me make something here? I’ve got stuff for sandwiches or—”
Ry is cut off by the ringing of his cell phone. The cell phone I gave him. We both look at one another. I’m sitting right in front of him, and we both know I’m not calling. Ry doesn’t really have anyone else who calls him on the cell phone besides me—well, except for Harlan and the nursing home. He refuses to give the number to Trash or his parents. Digging the phone from his pocket, he answers.
“Hey, Harlan. You okay? You forget something?”
Finished with my school work, I close the laptop and stand, twisting the knots from my back, listening to his one-sided conversation.
“Okay. It happened where?”
…
“And you’re sure you’re okay?”
Worry circles my heart when I hear Ry ask that question, and I cross the distance between us, trying to listen in on the phone call. Beer still in hand, Ry wraps his arm around my waist. The cold bottle makes a wet mark on my stomach.
“Well, I can bring the wrecker, come get you, and take you to the party. You were planning on staying the night with your son, anyway, right?”
…
“Lulu can wait here for the customer. I’m sure she won’t mind.”
…
“No, the customer is a female. I wouldn’t leave Lulu here if it were a male. But this is Scott Turner’s sister. I met her once before. Married with kids.”
…
“Okay. Sit tight. I’m on my way.”
He barely hangs up before I pounce on him in curiosity. Tossing the half drank beer in the trash, he walks over to the wall to grab the wrecker keys from their hanging perch. “Harlan hit a deer. Front end of his truck is completely wrecked. I’m gonna go get him, take him to the party. Are you okay to wait for the customer?”
“Of course. Absolutely. She’s just dropping off, right? No paperwork I need to give her? Nothing to ring up?”
“That’s right. Just a drop and go. I already have all her contact information, so we are good there.”
“And Harlan’s okay?”
“He sounds perfectly fine, but I’ll let you know once I get there and check on him.”
“Okay. Be safe.” I lean up on my toes, and Ry wraps me in a hug. One of his all-encompassing, full-body hugs.
Heaving me into his arms, my feet dangle in the air, leaving the toes of my sandals scraping against the concrete floor. He plants a quick peck on my mouth before setting me down. “Since I have to go to town, I’ll just pick us up some food. Preference?”
I smile wickedly and clap my hands in front of me. “Yes.”
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Grabbing his ballcap on the way out of the garage, he yanks it backward on his head, hollering behind him. “Two Philly cheesesteaks coming right up.”
About twenty minutes after he leaves, Ry texts to let me know that Harlan is fine, and about ten minutes after that, the customer comes to drop off her car. Grabbing the keys to her black sedan, I watch in amusement as a minivan pulls into the parking lot to pick her up and honks the horn. Sighing deeply, she rolls her eyes. “Universal Studios. We’re doing half the drive tonight. Three kids all under the age of eight. Pray for me.”
Laughing, I stand, waving goodbye until they pull out onto the main road. I find her paperwork and tape the key to her folder, storing it in the drawer underneath the register. So, with nothing better to do, I turn on my laptop and start a crime show.
I know I should lower the large bay garage door, but I don’t. It’s nice outside tonight with a light breeze, so I decide to leave it open while I wait for Ry.
Once again, I always do what I shouldn’t.
I’m absorbed in a documentary about blood splatter when a loud noise outside draws my attention. It sounded like someone throwing an aluminum can? Hitting the light post, maybe?
I ignore it, thinking it’s probably just some underage drunk kid making a beer run to the gas station and they probably parked closer to our end of the parking lot to avoid the prying eyes of the gas station traffic.
But the noise happens again.
Being the dumbass that I am, I get up to investigate.
And that’s when I see someone leaning against the back of my SUV. It’s hard to make out much in the dark, but the thin frame tells me that it’s probably a teenager. Younger than me, maybe. Stiffening my spine and squaring my shoulders, I take a few steps in that direction. “We’re closed. This is private property. Not part of the gas station. So, you need to move on, okay?”
The kid is smoking a cigarette and he completely ignores me.
Rude little shit.
I walk in the direction of my car. “Hey, come on. Time to head out, buddy.”
Stomping on the cigarette, he shifts underneath the glow of the lamp post, and I see that my first impression was quite wrong. Very wrong. Really wrong.
This is no kid.
This is Trey.
I freeze in my tracks. I don’t have to worry about ruining our proper introduction, though. Trey does all the work for me. Crossing the distance between us, he reaches out his wiry hand. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of formally meeting. I’m Trey Holland.”
I stare at his hand, feeling like I’m about to be sick.
Eventually he snatches it back. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you that it’s rude not to shake someone’s extended hand?”
I snap my body into position and lift my chin. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you that it’s rude to sneak up on someone. At night. On property that’s not yours. Uninvited.”
“I didn’t know I needed an invitation to visit a friend. I was looking for Crutch.”
There’s no point in lying. We both know that if Ry were here, he’d already be standing outside, right between the two of us. Teeth bared. Fists clenched. “He’ll be back any minute. He’s on a run with the wrecker.”
“Pity. Been too long since I’ve seen him. We’ve missed having him at the parties lately.”
“You don’t really strike me as friends.”
A smidge taller than me, he’s definitely more put together than Trash. I can only conclude he must use way less of his own product than Trash does. His clothes are clean, and his face doesn’t have any sores on it. But his frame is still thin. And he has bluish circles underneath his eyes. “Oh, but we are.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “I’ll be sure to add you to our Christmas card list this year.”
He snorts. “Heard you were a bitch. Now, I see it’s true.”
I don’t dignify him with a response. And that irks him.
“I also heard you were asking some questions. Questions about me and my business. Anything you care to ask me? Cut out the middle man.”
“I was asking questions. Everyone who knows me knows that I’ve been asking questions about my missing sister. It’s no secret she came out to this part of the county on occasion before she disappeared. The police were even here questioning people at the gas station. They have her on camera, buying gas, making purchases. What kind of sister would I be if I didn’t do my own due diligence?”
“Well, just so you know, we are very protective of our own out here. Someone might interpret your questions wrong. Think you’re trying to pin your sister’s decision to run away on us less fortunate folks. I can’t be held responsible for what someone might do if they think you’re trying to hurt us, hurt our simple way of life out here.”
I narrow my eyes. “Is that a threat?”
At least he attempts to act contrite. “Of course not. I’m just saying people seem really protective of me for some reason.”
“Gee, I wonder why? And why on earth would you say my sister ran away? There’s no truth behind that whatsoever.”
“Really? I could have sworn that’s what I heard. So, what are you doing? You’ve been spending a lot of time out on this side of the county lately. A little far away from home, aren’t we?”
“Where I spend my time should be of no concern to you.”
He lights another cigarette. “True. But you’re obviously trying to escape from something. Or someone.” He tilts his head back, blowing smoke into the sky. “You can play house with Crutch all you want, but it doesn’t change one damn thing. He’s one of us, and you are one of you . You think money and status and social hierarchy have no bearing on your relationship with him? Think again. He’ll always be the poor boy with no prospects and no future. And that will be the one thing that will tear the two of you apart. One day you’ll see. He will always choose his own miserable, pitiful life over the rich, make-believe world you live in.”
Liar. Pathetic stupid liar. Nothing will tear Ry away from me. My jaw clenches so hard, pain erupts through my temples, stabbing me like an ice pick to the brain. “How dare you? You know nothing—”
He completely interrupts me. “Trash said you made a special trip to the gas station the other day. Bought some of that Blackberry Tea that sells so well. How’d you like it?”
“How do you think I liked it? Do I look like one of your normal ‘tea drinkers’?”
“You look like some of them. Take your sister, for instance. Man, she was a beautiful piece of ass.”
Pure hatred seeps through my skin like sweat on a hot day. I can think of nothing else except beating the smile off his pasty face until he’s left with nothing but a mouth full of blood and broken teeth. I lower my arms and bounce on my foot, ready to body slam his ass to the ground, when I hear the tell-tale hum of the wrecker, slowing down, preparing to make the turn into the large parking lot. The hiss of the air brakes is unmistakable. I glance at the road, trying to get an idea of how much time I have.
By the time I turn my attention back to Trey, he’s gone. Scanning the area around me, I spy him walking past the gas pumps, getting ready to head into the gas station. Laughing, he gives me a mock salute.
I salute him back. With one very important finger.
Ry turns the wrecker in front of me, severing my immediate war with Trey, the drug dealer. I back against the wall of the building, giving Ry a wide berth to back Harlan’s mangled truck into the garage bay. He was right, the whole front end is wrecked.
Swinging the door open, Ry jumps down, depositing a bag of food into my hand. “You wanna get dinner laid out? I’ll unhook this and be right in.”
In the kitchen, my mind can barely focus as I set the table with plates and utensils. Normally, when cheesesteaks are involved, I start eating right away. I don’t even wait for Ry. But tonight, my appetite lays in ruins beneath the bile rising in my throat. Five minutes. Ten minutes. I just sit there. Playing the movie in my head. The movie where I get to make Trey pay for every bad thing he has done. To me and my family. To every person he’s ever gotten hooked on drugs. To that poor Christina girl who sleeps with him, not thinking she deserves any better.
In some scenes I send him to jail. Others, I kill him. I’m not sure which ending would satisfy me the most.
“I can’t believe you actually waited on me. That’s a first.” Ry washes his hands in the kitchen sink, talking to me over his shoulder. “Hey, was somebody here?”
“Huh? What?”
He sits down next to me, planting a quick kiss on my cheek before unwrapping his sandwich. “I was asking if someone was here. There’s some beer cans over by the lamp post, next to your vehicle.”
I lick my lips, focusing on the food in front of me. “Huh. Must’ve been some kid.”
I knew I was going to lie before the words ever crossed my lips. Why? Because I don’t need the man I love going to jail for murder. And I have no doubt that if Ry found out Trey came here—came to confirm that he knows all about my little investigation—that Ry would make the movie I was just playing in my head look like a G-rated cartoon.
He will stop at nothing to protect me. I know that as fact.
So, see? Trey was completely wrong.
Nothing will ever tear the two of us apart. Me and Ry, we are forever.