Chapter Nine
TYLER
Though I’d like to say working around Gemma is getting easier, it would be a lie straight from the pits of hell.
I’ve tried my best to keep our conversations short and stay out of the lobby as much as possible.
Sometimes when I’m grabbing water or in the break room, I hear her humming with the radio.
In the past, I’d tease her about it, but after I left, it was one thing I missed the most. I should wear earbuds before it completely fucks with my head how much I enjoy hearing it again.
Helping Jerry in the shop the past week has been enjoyable. He works his ass off to make an honest living, and at times, he runs circles around me. More than once, he’s shown his gratitude for my help, but it’s nothing compared to how grateful I am for the chance he’s given me.
We’re no longer on a trial basis because I’ve arrived before Gemma each day and haven’t fucked off on my phone once. It’s a steady, secure income—something I never had in Vegas. Sure, I’d trained people, but sometimes, my clients would quit or move.
I lived that hustle life, doing what I could to make ends meet. I loved living in the city, enjoyed the desert air, and had no intention of ever coming back. But here I am.
People live a simpler life here. The biggest gamble they take here is buying out of season fruit at the grocery store. Not that I’m complaining about my new simple life, but I wonder how long I’ll last before craving my old reckless lifestyle.
Though I’ve been at work for eight hours already, it feels like I just walked in. There’s always something more to do and no time to be idle, so the days pass by quickly.
My mind stays busy with tasks instead of thoughts.
Too often when I’m alone, I replay everything that happened with Victoria.
That’s when the urge for revenge runs through me like poison, and I want her to pay for what she did.
I want her to know what it was like to spend five years in prison.
Drugs and weapons are not my forte. I didn’t have a record, but money can buy anything when the court system is corrupt.
After I clock out, my gaze drifts to Gemma. She notices, and her lips fall open to say something, but then her dad walks in. Instead of sticking around for a potentially awkward conversation, I head out.
Needing to blow off some pent-up aggression, I quickly walk home, change into workout clothes, and then go to the gym.
It still smells the same as it did when I was a teen, back when getting buff to impress the ladies at school was the thing to do.
Now, as I look around at the kids in here, I laugh at the memory.
Old carpet covers the floors, and the walls have wood paneling.
It’s looked this way over the past few decades.
Sam, the owner, is getting older and moving a lot slower.
He’s here every morning at five to open the doors, and then his granddaughter closes at nine p.m. I wonder what he’ll do with the place when he decides to retire.
I’d love to eventually be in a position to buy it, but that might be a pipe dream.
Grabbing a set of gloves, I put them on, then pound my fists together.
I feel alive the moment I start swinging, taking my frustrations out on the bags in fifteen-minute sprints.
I punch and swing as hard as I can, then switch positions to stay light on my feet.
It’s a relief to let it out of my system and burn off the extra energy after working.
Every once in a while, I throw in a few kicks, ducking and imagining Victoria’s sneer on the other side. It doesn’t take long before I’m exhausted, but I don’t stop until I’ve worked out for a full hour. I’m completely worn down, but I feel calmer, with a sense of clarity.
As I head home, the sun hangs lazily in the sky over the old buildings in the town square. The warm breeze brushes against my sweaty skin, cooling me down even quicker.
When I walk inside the house, Sassy sprints toward me, wagging her tail, so I quickly take her outside.
We’ve been taking regular walks, and she can’t seem to get enough of me now.
I pet her before grabbing some clothes, then jump in the shower.
As the stream falls over my body, I think about my life and how it feels like I’m living in an alternate universe.
When my skin prunes, I get out and put on some joggers and a T-shirt, then place a frozen lasagna in the oven. It’ll take an hour, but Everleigh will be home by then, so it works out perfectly.
After grabbing a beer, I sit on the couch with Sassy, turn on the TV, and flip through the channels.
Some survival show where the contestants run around naked catches my attention, and I’m oddly intrigued.
Eventually, the timer goes off, and minutes later, Everleigh walks through the door, grinning as she smells the food.
We load up our plates and settle in to eat in the living room.
“This is so good,” she says around a mouthful. “I only had time to eat a shitty protein bar for lunch, so I was starving. After I posted those pictures of Katie and Gemma, I sold out of those outfits in nearly three hours and had to order more before I left.”
The bracelets on her wrist jingle as she brushes the hair out of her eyes. She’s smiling, but she looks exhausted.
“That’s great. Just wait until you post the others. Bet you sell out every time.”
“I hope so! This summer’s gonna be insane. Sure you don’t need a second job on the weekends?” She waggles her brows. “Put your height to good use and help me out around the shop?”
I nearly choke on my food. “Yeah, right. From prison to chic.”
Her eyes widen as if I just gave her the best idea ever.
“No,” I say firmly before she can say another word about it.
“Come on, Tyler. You’d be the perfect eye candy.” She rolls up my sleeve and squeezes my sore biceps. “I could dress you up like I did when we were kids, and you’d be a nice attraction piece for all the single ladies.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re too much. You can’t use your psychology techniques on me to get what you want like you do your friends.”
“Fine.” With a scoff, she goes back to her food.
“While I appreciate you wanting to hire me, I think man candy is the last thing you need in your boutique. I tend to make ladies uncomfortable,” I remind her.
She lifts an eyebrow. “Speaking of that…”
“Don’t wanna talk about it.”
She doesn’t continue with whatever relationship advice she was going to give me, so I focus on the TV as we finish eating. Once she’s finished eating, I carry our plates into the kitchen, rinse them, and load the dishwasher.
When I’m done, I realize I left my phone in my gym shorts. There are three missed calls from a Las Vegas area code and my heart hammers when I see there’s a voice message.
“Hey, Tyler. It’s Eric. We used to work for Victoria O’Leary together. I need to talk to you as soon as possible.” He lingers, then lets out a breath. “It’s…important.”
The message ends, but I play it again. There’s an edginess in his voice, and the confident air he used to have is gone. Eric was an asshole, and I couldn’t stand him. I stuff my phone in my pocket and my head spins with reasons why he’d be calling me.
It doesn’t matter because my mind is already made up—I’m not calling him back.
Fuck that, and fuck him. I don’t want to be a part of whatever he’s gotten himself into. I bury the thoughts and go back to the living room.
“What’s wrong?” Everleigh asks, muting the TV.
I shake my head. “It’s nothing.”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Nah. What were we talking about before?”
I can’t remember because all I can hear in my head right now is Eric’s alarming voice. Whatever he wants feels like a trap, and I don’t want anything to do with the family ever again.
“Gemma,” she responds. “We were talking about Gemma.”
I chuckle. “No, we weren’t.”
I’d actually remember that.
“Well, I was gonna talk about Gemma. You said women act uncomfortable around you, so I just thought I’d ask how things are at the shop with you two working together.”
“She pretends I’m not there, so it’s going as expected.”
“Not surprising. What about Jerry? I’m sure he’s happy you’re there.”
“He’s a good boss. Doesn’t micromanage. Gives me tasks and lets me figure it out without hovering. It’s a godsend of a position in this godforsaken town.”
“If it doesn’t work out, you can always come work for me,” she sing-songs.
“Keep dreamin’.”
“Don’t worry, I will.”
“But seriously, it’s nice to feel like I have a purpose again and something else to focus on.”
“Any more surprise visits from Gemma’s fiancé?” Everleigh asks, and I stiffen.
I keep my breath steady, not wanting her to notice the slightest change in my behavior. I overcompensate and put my feet up on the coffee table.
“Nope.” I shrug, keeping my opinions about the guy to myself because they wouldn’t be very nice.
“I only ask because Gemma mentioned you two met at the garage the other day.”
“Yep.”
“Between you and me, I don’t think Gemma’s ready to marry the guy. She’s my best friend, so I’ll support her no matter what, but I’m wondering if she’ll go through with it or not.”
Stay. Calm.
“Wow, that’s bad, Ev,” I say, keeping my eyes on the TV.
“I know, but seriously! They’ve been engaged for eighteen months and just recently set a date.
If you’re madly in love with someone, you don’t wait that long unless there’s a good reason—like a death in the family, or someone’s sick, or you’re saving up money—and those are definitely not the reasons. ”
My throat tightens as she rambles on. I feel bad talking about Gemma like this, but it seems my sister needs to vent to someone, so I let her continue.
“She’s stalling. At first, I thought it was nerves, and some of it still might be, but there are other issues now.”
Everleigh drinks half the glass of wine she must’ve poured when I was in the bathroom. In about five minutes, she’s going to have loose lips and tell me everything I already suspected.