Chapter 9
Automatons Don’t Cry
Ryan
It’s the strangest thing, this emptiness.
I’d expected depression or anger or something after having to dump Charlie, but right now, I don’t feel anything.
We’re about twenty minutes into our lunch break and I haven’t said a word to Trey or Garrett.
I just stare at nothing while eating my sandwich—bite, chew, swallow—like an automaton.
My brothers are watching me, their faces tight with worry, but I’m too numb to care.
I should have never asked her out in the first place. At least, when I was watching her from afar, it was only a fantasy. I could push it aside and move on. But now that I’ve had her, it’s like each memory of her taste, her touch, her laugh is a knife jabbing and twisting in my gut.
I set down the remainder of my sandwich; I’m not hungry anymore.
I gulp down some water and start packing up my lunch when Garrett breaks the silence.
“Are you going to tell us what happened, or do we have to guess?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I reply, not meeting his eyes. If I look at him, I’ll break down, and right now, I’m content in my bubble. I can function—mostly—but the minute I open my mouth to tell them what happened, it’ll burst. I finish packing up my food and push to my feet.
“Sit the fuck down,” Trey says. He’s using his tough guy voice—the one that immediately makes a grown man want to crap his pants and do whatever Trey says so he doesn’t beat him into a steaming pulp. Unfortunately for Trey, I know it’s all bullshit.
“Fuck off,” I say and head to where the small fridge is hidden beneath the counter.
I put my leftovers away and turn around to find Trey’s chest in my face.
When I tip my head back to look up at him, I can see he’s pissed.
Rage twists his features and his eyes are barely slits.
Right about now is when I should be backtracking and doling out an apology, but I won’t.
I just don’t want to deal with him right now. “Let me by, Trey.”
He doesn’t so much as twitch, only stands there like a human wall and glares at me. “I said to sit back down.”
Damn, that’s quite the low, intimidating voice.
“And I said, ‘Fuck off.’”
Sometimes even I’m astonished by my stupidity.
Next thing I know, I’m thrown over the asshole’s shoulder, like a fucking child, my punches to his back about as effective as a flyswatter against a grizzly. He dumps me on the floor, knocking the wind out of me, and pointing a fat finger in my face, says, “Stay.”
“I’m not your fucking dog, asshole,” I holler, pushing onto my knees.
“No. You’re not,” Trey says. “A dog would listen. Now shut up and tell us what’s going on.”
I give him the look that statement deserves, and he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration.
Garrett, ever the peacekeeper, kneels on the floor beside me. “We just want to help, bro.”
“There’s nothing to help with. I broke up with Charlie and that’s it. Okay?”
“Wait.” Garrett shakes his head like he’s got a screw loose. “You broke up with her?”
I plop back down onto my butt with my legs bent up in front of me.
My eyes are already stinging, and I haven’t even said anything.
Trying to ease the discomfort, I rub them with my thumb and forefinger, enjoying the sensation—like scratching an achy itch.
“Yes. I broke up with her,” I say, dropping my elbows onto my knees, arms dangling.
Trey grunts as he maneuvers his big body to sit across from me on the floor. “I don’t understand. I thought you were crazy about her.”
“Yeah, well, her father wasn’t too thrilled about her dating a piece of shit biker, so…”
Trey’s body goes ridged; his eyes hard. “That son of a bitch didn’t say that to you?”
I shake my head. “Only that she was too good for me.”
“So, screw him,” Garrett interjects. “I don’t mean to be a dick, but that’s not really his decision.”
“Yeah. That’s what I said. Hand me my water, bro,” I say, pointing to my water bottle sitting on the counter.
“Sure.” Garrett hops up, grabs the bottle and tosses it to me before sitting back down.
I take a few big gulps, the cold soothing my aching throat. “Her father threatened to throw her out and quit paying for her school if she kept seeing me.”
Trey and Garrett’s jaws both drop like something out of an old comedy.
“Seriously?” Trey says.
“Yeah, man.” I rub my aching shoulder. I think the bastard almost knocked it out of its socket.
“That’s truly fucked up,” Garrett says.
I shrug. There’s not much I can say about that. He’s right.
“Did you tell her?” Garrett asks.
I shake my head. “No.” When both of them open their mouths to argue, I hurry to add, “What good would it do? Really? I’m not going to ask the girl to give up her home and education after two dates.
That would be ridiculous. Even if she gets her dad to back off, he’ll never accept me.
To him, I’m some lowlife asshole preying on his innocent little girl. ”
I push to my feet and pat the dirt from the back of my jeans. “I appreciate you guys wanting to help, but it’s over. Better it happens now than later.”
I step between them and head into the back of the shop. This time, nobody stops me.