Chapter 2 - Jensen
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Jensen
The mini tornado of gray-black water swirls toward the drain, the remnants of a long, exhausting day stark against the crisp white porcelain of the sink. I dry my hands with a few paper towels and turn off the light in the bathroom.
Most of the time, I welcome the quiet and the emptiness after everyone else has left for the day. But not on days like today when the ghosts in my head won’t stop taunting me. When the shadows lurk, their claws digging into me .
I’d known it would be a bad day from the second my eyes flipped open, heart pounding as the images from the same old nightmares faded into nothingness.
They aren’t typical bad dreams—no creatures or gore, no life-threatening situations or violence.
Instead, my subconscious likes to torture me with recollections of the life I no longer have.
The smiling face of the wife who left me.
The boisterous laugh of my now dead best friend.
Happy, carefree moments that had felt infinite at the time.
It’s the realization of what’s coming that has me gasping awake, choking on the lack of air in my lungs. Even in sleep, the agony of what I lost finds me. This morning was no different.
I’d pulled myself out of bed, going through the motions to get through the day, but bone-deep exhaustion clung to my limbs, making every move feel like I was slogging through wet cement. With the workday over, all I want to do is turn off my brain and collapse on my couch, but it’s not that simple.
Sighing, I head for my office to grab my keys. My phone buzzes just as I’m locking the main door.
I roll my eyes, but the tightness in my chest eases a little.
It happens a lot—the feeling of overwhelming dread that settles over me every time I get an unexpected call or text.
Even though four years have passed since the worst moments of my life, I still walk around with my entire body tensed, bracing for impact.
Shaking my head to clear it, I finish locking up the shop and head toward my truck. The bright red letters above the door— Bradford Auto Parts and Repair — glow bright against the darkening sky.
I don’t really feel like seeing or talking to anyone, but maybe that’s all the more reason to head down to the diner. Sutton has an uncanny knack for knowing when the storm clouds are rolling in on me. So, I put my truck in gear and head for main street.
The parking lot is packed, which is the norm for a Friday night. The Silver Diner has the best burgers in town and everyone with good sense comes here once it’s quitting time.
I push open the door and head for the counter, waving at Angus and a few other regulars who call my name in greeting.
Sutton Bradford is standing behind the counter, her cheeks the same rosy color as her uniform.
Her dark brown hair is twisted into a bun atop her head, and she looks tired despite the smile on her face.
The bright overhead lights glint off the silver chain she wears around her neck—the dog tags she keeps hidden beneath her clothes, but always close to her heart.
Guilt, a long-time companion of mine, steps in closer, hissing in my ear.
I wince but recover quickly once Sutton’s eyes land on me.
“Shep!” She calls out, waving me closer. “You made it.”
“Like I had a choice,” I growl, though there’s no real bite to my words. “If I hadn’t, you would’ve just kept texting me.”
“True, but that’s my job as your best friend, to pester you into doing things that are good for you. Kasey would agree with me, you know.”
She says his name casually, but it damn near sucks the breath right out of my lungs. “Yeah, well that’s because he knew better than anyone how bossy you are.”
Sutton laughs, reaching across the counter to smack my shoulder.
“Somebody has to keep you on your toes, Jensen Shepherd. Might as well be me. Now, you sit right there until I get back. I’ve got something for you.
” She holds up a hand in a “stay” motion and whirls around to disappear through the double doors that lead to the kitchen.
I sigh, slumping down against one of the barstools.
Talking about Kasey always hits me like a ton of bricks, though I’m glad whenever Sutton brings him up.
It keeps him with us for a little longer.
But the fact remains, my best friend is gone, and that reality still leaves me as raw as the day we put him in the ground .
I try not to let it show, especially around Sutton and Ethan. I made a promise to Kase, that if anything ever happened to him, his wife and son would be taken care of—and that’s exactly what I’ve done. As soon as my enlistment ended, I moved to Dayton Springs and took over the shop.
Kasey had magic hands when it came to mechanical parts.
There wasn’t anything he couldn’t fix— which is what made him one of the best mechanics in the Army.
It’s also why Bradford Auto is so well-known across the state of Alabama and parts of Mississippi.
I’m nowhere near as good as he was, but I do what I can to run the shop as he always did.
I keep things working around Sutton’s house and play catch in the backyard with Ethan, but try as I might to be there for both of them, I know I’m a sorry replacement for what they lost.
“Here you go,” Sutton’s voice breaks through the spiral of my thoughts as she bursts through the kitchen doors carrying a steaming platter piled with food. She sets it down in front of me, pulling a set of rolled silverware from the front pocket of her apron. “All your favorites.”
I eye the food. A patty-melt on rye, dripping with extra cheese and caramelized onions, sits on the plate next to a bed of crisp sweet potato fries and a scoop of the diner’s famous coleslaw. All my favorites, indeed—which immediately makes me suspicious .
“Alright, Sutton. What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” she asks, a little too innocently. “Can’t I give my best friend a meal without there being a reason?”
I point at her with a fork. “You have the worst poker face in all of Clayton County, you know that?”
Sutton presses her lips together for a second and lets out a huff. “Ugh, fine. There is something I wanted to talk to you about.”
I scoop up a mouthful of coleslaw. “Everything okay with Ethan? The house? I know I’ve been working a lot lately, but I’ll come by tomorrow and—”
“Shep, stop. Everything is fine. I keep telling you that you don’t have to worry about us so much, but you never seem to be able to get that through that thick skull of yours.
” Sutton reaches out and lightly taps her knuckles against my head.
“And that’s exactly why I’m about to say what I’m about to say. ”
There’s something about the set of her shoulders and the determined look on her face that makes me tense. I grip the fork a little harder, trying to swallow both the coleslaw and the panic rising in my throat.
Sutton sucks in a breath and then lets it out quickly right before she blurts, “I think you need to go on a date.”
It takes a second for the words to compute. “What?” I spit the word out along with my confusion. I’d been braced for bad news, but . . . this? Definitely didn’t see that coming.
“Hear me out, okay?” Sutton leans against the counter, lowering her voice.
“You’re a good man. The best I know, actually.
What you’ve done for me and Ethan . . . ” Her voice catches and silver lines her eyes.
“I don’t have words for how grateful I am for you.
But it’s been four years, and I don’t want you to waste the rest of your life on us. ”
“It’s not a waste.” The words come out sharper than I mean them. “You and Ethan are my family.”
Sutton’s face softens, and she covers one of my hands with hers.
“I know, and you’re ours, but you don’t ever do anything for yourself.
You spend all your time at the shop, and when you’re not working, you’re helping take care of Ethan or doing whatever list of random to-dos I give you.
I know what you promised Kasey, and you’ve more than kept your word, but .
. . .God, Shep. You’re such a golden retriever, sometimes.
Loyal to an absolute fault. I’m not saying that you have to stop being there for us, but I think you need to take more time for yourself. ”
“I take plenty of time for myself. What about the RVs?” I point out.
“I just finished up the airstream last week. I’m getting ready to list it.
” Restoring vintage RVs is something I’ve been doing pretty much my whole life, and it was what I’d hoped to make a career of once I got out of the Army.
But that was before Kasey died. Now, it’s more of a side gig .
“Think of how many you could actually finish if you weren’t worrying about us all the time,” Sutton counters, which makes me scowl. “All I’m saying is that I want you to work a little less. Do something fun. Take a beautiful woman to dinner now and then.”
That was the last thing I needed. I start to argue, to explain that I do have fun—not a lot of it but enough—when Sutton's face changes, all the levity draining from it. “I’m worried about you. You’re not happy and you haven’t been since . . . .well, since Anna left.”
I don’t wince this time, though internally, there’s a sharp tug on my insides at the sound of my ex-wife’s name.
“You deserve so much more, and I don’t want Ethan and me to be the reason you never find it.”
She’s wrong. I don’t deserve anything. I know it’s pointless to argue though, so I say nothing.
Sutton takes that as her cue to keep going. “That’s why I did what I did.”
“And what exactly did you do?”
“I volunteered you . . . for a blind date.”
A groan erupts from my throat, and I shove my plate away. “So, all this is just a bribe to get me to take some random girl out for drinks?”
“Not exactly.”
I let out another groan. “I do not like the way you said that.”
“Do you remember Mabel Callahan? She works the day shifts here during the week.”
I nod, recalling her face. “That’s who you want me to go on a date with?”
“Hush, and let me finish,” Sutton chides, pushing my plate back across the counter.
“Eat while I talk.” She waits until I scoop up a fry and pop it into my mouth before she continues.
“Mabel is actually a photographer. She’s been trying to get her business off the ground for a while, and she only works shifts here to help pay the bills.
Anyway, she’s got this really cool idea for a photoshoot, and she needed a guy for it, so I told her you’d do it. ”
I finish chewing my fry. “Wait . . . so it’s not a date?”
“No, it is, but it’s a photoshoot, too.” She quickly fills me in on the concept of the shoot, her face brightening as she speaks.
I still don’t fully understand, but I know enough to know there is no way in hell I want to be involved.
“I don’t think this is a good idea. I appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. Really, I do, but—”
“Jensen.”
That word, my own name, stops me from saying more. Sutton only ever calls me Jensen when things are serious.
She reaches for the chain around her neck, her fingers curling around Kasey’s dog tags. “We only get one life, and we never know when the sand is going to run out. Don’t you want to make the most of the time you have?”
I don’t think she means to do it on purpose, to fling Kase’s death at me like a knife, stabbing at all the places inside of me that still ache, but pain lances through me just the same.
“I know what I’m asking you to do is a little unconventional, but it’s just one afternoon. A few photos. What could it hurt?”
Everything. I learned a long time ago that stepping outside of the lines I carefully draw around myself only leads to heartbreak.
But as I look into Sutton’s hopeful eyes, her fingers still clutching Kase’s tags, I know there’s no way I can deny her.
“Fine,” I huff. “I’ll do it.”