Chapter 14
She shouldn’t have told Chase that a phone call was acceptable.
It’s barely two days later when Gage’s name appears on her phone, ringtone blasting cheerily. Minnie stares down at it in horror. She screens the call impulsively, sending him to voicemail. She’s not ready! What was she thinking, heck, she wasn’t thinking-
After another moment, Minnie hisses a faux curse under her breath and clicks dial.
“Hey,” Gage breathes into her ear with relief, leaving Minnie with a physical reaction she can barely restrain. Her heart speeds up and skips while her skin flushes. Her desire for him and his betrayal are mixed into something she wishes she didn’t feel.
Why did he have to make a mess of her?
“Yes?” Minnie says in reply, not certain she has it in her to say much at all. She sits ramrod straight on her couch, clutching the phone to her ear with white knuckles. She’s torn between wanting to hear him speak and wanting to simply hang up and cry about what he did to her all over again.
It’s exhausting. Feeling this way is exhausting. A part of her doesn’t want to feel at all, but she’s no robot.
“I was, uh, callin’.” The unsure cadence of his speech is not normal for him. Usually, he oozes bold confidence. It seems her knowledge of who he truly is has made him feel ashamed. Well, good, Minnie thinks with a hint of vindictiveness.
Gage clears his throat and tries again. “I was callin’ to see if you ended up getting the oil changed on your car.
Last time we spoke about it, when you made dinner?
You mentioned you might want me to do it for you?
Cuz, uh. If you don’t get it done…well, you haven’t done it in two years, so, you’re waaay overdue. ”
He’s such a gearhead.
The words fall into the dark ocean between them. Why would he call me about something so asinine, Minnie finds herself thinking, mouth pursed as she considers this odd turn in events. Then, it occurs to her that this is his way of trying to see her.
…and she needs to determine if she’s going to let it happen.
“I haven’t gotten it done, no.” Minnie bites her lip and considers.
“You know I’m terrible about cars.” Taking her car to the shop wasn’t top priority for her, because she always felt like she didn’t know if the mechanic was taking advantage of her lack of knowledge and her submissive demeanor.
She never quite knew what to ask or how to advocate for herself, so she avoided it as much as possible.
Her father would gladly take it in for her, but Minnie still has some pride.
There’s a smile in Gage’s voice, and a part of her melts to hear it.
“I know.” He says nothing else, just simply waiting on her to make the move, but Minnie finds herself unable to ask, unable to say the words.
As if realizing this, Gage presses again, “Would you like me to come fix it up for you? So, you don’t have to take it in?
I remember you originally wanted me to work on it this weekend, before. Well. Before.”
Before I found out who you are? Betrayal coils again, right behind her ribs, aching. Before I found out what you did?
There’s a bitterness crawling up her throat, and Minnie finds herself saying something positively cold. “You know. The way I look at it, you owe me one, don’t you? Please do come over. I’ll have my car in the driveway for you.”
There’s a sharp, wounded inhale on his side of the phone. Instead of snapping back, he seems resigned to the cruel truth of her statement. “Yeah. Sure thing, Minnie.” Then, as if to even the score, he finishes with, “You’re polite even when you’re slingin’ razorblades, Princess.”
Face red, Minnie doesn’t find a good comeback. There’s a shiver down her spine. Inexcusable.
When he says princess, she can hear it through a mask with a skull on it.
When he hangs up, Minnie finds herself gasping for air, a sob trying to weasel its way into existence. It’s simply not fair. Why did she have to fall in love with the very man responsible for making her who she is today?
She closes her eyes and tries to figure out how she’s going to handle having him over again.
I’m not ready.
There’s a sharp knock on her door, familiar in cadence. She always knows when it's Gage now. Dread and excitement are at war in her chest. She wants to see him. She never wants to see him again. She can’t make up her stupid mind.
He’s ruined me, and I’m never going to be alright. Minnie thinks as she walks to the front door with all its locks. First, he traumatized me. Then, he made me fall in love and broke my heart. It’s not fair.
Gage is standing in the morning light, the sun beaming behind him as he stands on her front stoop.
The broad set of his shoulders and the menacing black ink of his tattoos make him into an imposing figure with very little effort.
Although today, he isn’t posturing or trying to stand tall.
There’s a singular hint of a slouch to him, as if he’s making a concentrated effort to seem less.
“Are you alright?” Minnie finds herself asking out of habit. Good manners and all. “You look tired.” He doesn’t; he just looks miserable. She’s not the type to just come out and bluntly say you look terrible, sir.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He makes an effort to straighten up, as if that will hide any hint of vulnerability. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Shrugging, Minnie-the-lion says, “I don’t know, nor do I particularly care.
” She brushes past him to go to her driveway where her car sits waiting.
She tries to ignore the crisp scent of his masculinity and how being so close still makes her core clench with interest. Hiding that shameful part of herself deep, Minnie holds out her keys to him and says, “She’s all yours. Knock yourself out.”
When he takes the keys from her, his hand brushes hers. There’s a flash of warmth against her skin, causing Minnie to inhale sharply.
He sets to work, gathering his tools from his truck, such as the oil pan and the fresh oil.
The hood is popped in short order, and he’s got a jack under the car.
Minnie sticks around to watch him for a moment, simply observing, vaguely curious about how he’s going to go about doing this.
Working on cars, or working on anything physically, hadn’t been her father’s strong suit.
Any time something went wrong around the house or with a car, her father simply paid someone else to deal with the issue.
Watching Gage go about his business tinkering away with a certain level of concentration on his face, she marvels that perhaps she admires Gage for this aspect of him.
He’s willing to get his hands dirty, to put the time in.
To do the nitty gritty physical labor that many others prefer to ‘pay the help’ to do.
Well, Daddy, she finds herself thinking as she watches him get himself situated. He might not live up to all your standards, but he is a very capable man. I’d never catch you doing this.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” he grunts out as he slides under the car with a wrench, placing the drain pan. He’s giving her an out, a way to avoid him, but she finds herself unwilling to leave.
“It’s a nice day out,” Minnie replies, pulling out a lawn chair from her garage. “I don’t mind.” Seeing as he has his Bluetooth speaker, Minnie sinks into her seat and quips, “You can play that Zombie song of yours. The one I kind of like.”
Gage makes a noise torn between a snort and a chuckle, sliding himself out from under the vehicle. “Rob Zombie?”
Minnie dances around in her seat, sing-songing, “Dig through the ditches and burn-”
“…through the witches,” he finishes for her, hooking up the song in question, keeping it low enough that it won’t bother the neighbors. With his rock tunes on, he goes straight back to work.
It’s an interesting process that she’s never seen before. He works on cars effortlessly, and she’s impressed by his knowledge in this department. “What’s that thing?”
“The old oil filter. Got you a new one.” He pulls himself out from under the car and goes to the hood with a funnel. His eyes are keen as he works, his hands dirty with grease. Her eyes catch on his hands, marveling at the strength in them.
She remembers in great detail how they feel on her body.
A thought occurs to Minnie. “Why don’t you start your own mechanic shop?
You’re good at this. You could make good money being in business for yourself.
Plus, you get to work your own hours.” Her father had wanted her to go the route of business, but despite her degree, Minnie had never had the confidence to pursue it.
“The nearest mechanic is like twenty-five minutes away; having someone in a closer vicinity would be popular in town.”
“I don’t know how to start a business.” Gage starts pouring the new oil into the funnel. His dark eyes dart over to where she’s lounging. “Sounds rough.”
“It can be. But remember my useless degree? It’s only useless because I decided to be a librarian.
” Minnie thinks through different angles, knowing what she knows about entrepreneurship.
“You might need a small business loan to get started, which can help get a place to set up shop. There are a few foreclosures around town that could probably be caught cheap.”
He smiles at her, flashing pale teeth. Her insides are butterflies. “That’s why you’re the brains of this operation.”
He finishes with the oil change in short order, stowing the old oil to prepare for disposal.
He takes his time checking the pressure of all her tires, telling her that he’s going to have to get her one of those small devices that can also fill the tire to the perfect pressure with a few clicks.
“The new handheld ones are perfect for you,” Gage says.
“Why would I need one when I have you?” It slips out of her mouth before she can take it back. They both stare at each other, the ocean between them silent.
For a moment, his hazel eyes pierce her with a feeling so intense that the air leaves her lungs. She’s drowning under his stare, and Minnie doesn’t know how to make it stop. Gage looks away sharply, biting his tongue, hiding whatever came to mind.
When he begins putting away his tools with care, Minnie chokes out, “What do I owe you?”
Startled, Gage looks up at her as if she’s said something wild.
He takes a second to attempt wiping his hands off on a rag as he comes towards her, his frame blocking out the sun.
Swiftly, he hunkers down to a crouch, his large hands settling on her knees as he meets her eye to eye.
“Minnie, I’ll give you free oil changes for the rest of your life if you want them. ”
Oh.
There’s probably a woman out there somewhere dying to hear a man say that to her.
Seeing the way he’s looking at her, eyes all dark with wide pupils, Minnie feels her breath catch. A cherry of hunger grows in her stomach, growing brighter. “Gage…”
Why does he do this to me?
“Sorry. I miss you,” he utters softly, brushing the back of his hand against her cheek. He seems to relax when she doesn’t flinch away. “Please, don’t shut me out, Minnie.” The smell of grease is still strong on him, and it triggers a sensation of flightiness that Minnie doesn’t understand.
She doesn’t know what else she can do. Shutting him out keeps her safe from hurt, but brings a different type of emotional pain. She wishes she didn’t love him, but she does.
“I still need time to think about things,” she tells him, looking away, pained. “I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know what to think.”
“I’m happy to give you time to process this,” Gage tells her, a hint of hope flickering across his hard features. “I just-”
“What if I can’t get over it?” Minnie interrupts him with her greatest fear, the one that’s been haunting her every night. “What if I can never see you as you are now? What if all I see is the mask? What if all I ever see is who you were then?”
Maneuvering herself, Minnie stands up, looking down at him. She wants to run and run and run until her feet won’t carry her anymore.
Gage looks as though someone punched him in the gut.
He’s still on his knees, and Minnie finds herself shaken seeing this strong, powerful man on the ground in front of her.
He bows his head and holds both her hands in his, engulfing them.
“I can’t change what I did, even if I regret it, Minnie.
I can’t erase the past, even if I wish I fuckin’ could.
I can only hope that someday, you look at me and see who I want to be for you.
The mask is me, but I’m no longer the original man who wore that mask.
I’m someone new, Minnie.” He kisses her hands tenderly and then stands up to his full height, towering over her.
Her heart pounds, meeting his striking hazel eyes. Her eyes drift to the skull tattoo on his neck, taking in the ominous midnight ink. She finds herself saying the impossible. “Do you still have it?”
Confusion shifts his features. “Do I still have what?”
Her mouth goes dry, and for a moment, Minnie isn’t sure she can get the words out. Then, she says, “The mask. Do you still have the mask?”
Her hands drop from his grasp as his fingers seemingly go limp.
With a clenched jaw, Gage replies in a tone colored in rust, “I still have it. But-”
“I want you to bring it over,” she says so quietly she’s not even sure she’s speaking. She must be speaking, though, because his eyes widen and the muscles in his face twitch visibly.
He runs a grease-stained hand over his face, as if pained. It leaves a hint of a mark on his forehead. “What is that going to help, Minnie? I don’t want to scare you any worse than I already have.”
“I want to see you in it. I want you to erase the memory I have of you wearing it with a different one.” She swallows thickly, knowing her idea is the making of an insane woman. “I want to see the new man wearing the old mask.”
I want the pain of those old memories to go away. But since that will never happen, maybe this is the next best thing. I want to make the memory of the mask into something different. Something I don’t have to fear anymore.
“I, uh, don’t think that’s a good idea,” Gage says wearily, suddenly looking older.
Smiling grimly, Minnie finds herself chuckling without mirth. “Oh, it’s not a good idea. But it’s what I want. I think it’s the only way for me to move past this.”
He leans down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. She does flinch this time, but only because she’s realized what the oil smell reminds her of. Gun oil. “I’ll do whatever you want,” he tells her. “When do you want me to do this?”
If she gives herself any more time to back out of it, she might never move forward. Minnie answers quickly. “Tomorrow night.” Before I lose my nerve and become Minnie Mouse again.