Chapter 3
Three
HALLE
“ A re you really going to come in here every day just to bug the shit out of me, or are you trying to check up on me?” I ask Beau when I hear the bell above the door go off.
“What’s wrong with visiting my best friend and grabbing an energy drink while I’m at it?” he asks, throwing that cocky smile of his my way.
“If I’m your best friend, honey, you must live a very sad and pathetic life,” I say, giving him a sad smile. I stick my lower lip out just for good measure.
“Brat,” he says, chuckling.
“Hey, question, what happened to that red Nissan car out there in the back parking lot?” he asks me, and I raise an eyebrow at him.
“What do you mean?” I ask, already feeling my stomach drop.
“The little Nissan parked on the side. The tires are slashed. Looks like someone took a knife to the doors, and two of the windows are busted out,” he says, placing his drink on the counter. I don’t even look at what he grabbed. I race around the counter and out to the parking lot, heading straight for the side of the building. When I get there, I stop dead in my tracks.
“WHAT. THE. FUCK!” I scream, seeing my car completely trashed. I turn, looking around the parking lot, wondering if the fucker who is doing this is still here somewhere.
“I fucking swear to Christ, I will kill you, you fucker. Show your mother fucking face, you coward!” I yell, hoping the bastard is still here and hears me.
“Uh… Hal, what’s going on?” Beau asks, coming around the building to look at me.
“This is my fucking car, and someone destroyed it. I swear, when I find the fucker who's doing this, I’m going to whoop some ass,” I growl.
“Wait, this is your car?” he asks, and I roll my eyes. Men, always great at pointing out the obvious.
“I just said that,” I say through gritted teeth. Then I feel bad and turn to him. “Sorry… Didn’t mean to sound bitchy. Yes, this is my car.”
“And it’s not the first time? Someone has done this shit before?” he asks, and I nod my head before thinking and shaking it no.
“They have been harassing me a bit, but this is the first time they’ve actually destroyed my property,” I tell him before turning back and going back to the store.
Nothing I can do about the car right now.
“Need a tow, then call my sister to see if I can borrow her extra car for a bit.” I make a checklist in my head, not realizing Beau is still behind me until he speaks up.
“Look, my club owns a garage. Let me call and get someone down here to take it to the shop. They will get it fixed up at the best possible price. You have my word,” he tells me.
“No, that’s really not necessary. I can just call a tow and have it delivered to the shop right down the road. I don’t want to put you out,” I say, not needing favors from anyone.
Trust is a hard thing for me to give freely. Beau seems like a great guy, and I would consider him a friend, but you have to take time and earn my trust with a past like mine. The only person on this planet I trust other than myself is my sister, even when she keeps secrets from me. I know it’s just her way of protecting me, and I don’t need to know everything about her life. As long as she’s staying safe and happy, that’s all that matters.
“I’ve already texted them. Be mad if you want, but if this has been happening, that means you've been trying to deal with this shit on your own. Time for some help from a friend,” he tells me, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him serious in all the weeks he’s been coming by. He’s always so happy and carefree. Smiling, joking, and laughing. That serious look alone has my walls crumbling and agreeing before I can talk myself out of it.
“Fine, but I want a fair price. I don’t take fucking handouts. I pay my way,” I tell him, pointing a finger at his chest.
“Deal,” he says, and the playful smile is back and in full swing.
“I have to head out. The bar is opening in a few hours, and I need to be there. When you stopping by?” he asks, and I smile at him. He’s mentioned it one other time, but I’ve been too fucking busy to even think about it. After today's events, a night out at a bar with hot biker guys in chaps dancing on a bar top doesn’t sound like a bad idea.
“Let me know when you won’t be dancing, and I’ll stop by. No offense, but if I see you in nothing but chaps, that image will be burned into my brain forever. I would have to bleach my eyes out, and I don’t know if we could be friends after that,” I say, shrugging. He laughs but nods.
“You got it. Be safe, Halle, and if you need anything, please call me,” he says once again, seriously.
“I will,” I say, but we both know I’m lying. I would probably have to be bleeding out in the street before asking for a favor from anyone other than my sister. People always expect those favors to be returned, and I ain't in that business.
Beau waves as he leaves, hopping on his bike and peeling away. I take my phone out and text my sister.
Me: Hey sis :)
Ashy-bee: What do you want?
Me: Hey, that one hurt a little? What if…
Ashy-bee: and don’t say “What if I just wanted to talk” I know you better than that.
Me: Fine. Can I borrow your car?
Ashy-bee: What happened to your car?
Me: Oh nothing, just needs a tuneup.
Ashy-bee: You don’t even know what a fucking tune up is?
Me: How dare you? **Gasps in dramatic**
Ashy-bee: Halle… Don’t make me fucking ask again. One call to the station…
Me: Ugh, whatever. Someone vandalized it.
Me: BEFORE YOU FREAKOUT.
Me: I have help and I’m handling it.
Ashy-bee: Take my car. I'll be home to HELP in a few days.
I roll my eyes at that last text. I love her, but it will be a lot longer than a few days if she knows I'm fine. She’ll probably send some of her goons to look out for me if she can't on her own.
It's only thirty minutes before my shift ends, so I stock shelves and mop until relief comes in. Once he does, I call an Uber.
Luckily, my sister lives only fifteen minutes from here and is in a very respectable neighborhood. I pay the Uber driver before opening Ash’s garage and finding her car keys on the hook just inside the door. Quickly, I get in and take off toward my house. I just want to get out of these clothes and soak in a hot bath, forgetting all this shit. It brings back too many memories. Memories of my younger life, of what my sister and I had to do to survive. Dark days that carried on for years still carry me to this day, but that’s life, and all you can do is pull up your granny panties and try to move past, too. Try being the keyword.
When I make it to my house, nothing seems out of place, so I head inside. I’m just shutting the door when I feel a hand come down over my mouth and lips press to my ear.
“Told you I’d get you one of these days,” is said right in my ear, and the heat on my face makes me want to gag. So, this is the fucker that trashed my car, left me those notes, and basically tried to control my life for months.
Finally!
Let’s have some fun, fucker.