pass on that one. I didn’t know whether to appreciate his honesty or be fearful that as soon as he figured out why, he’d just change his mind, and I would be left with nowhere to go. Again.
My plan was now simple. I would save money in the next several months by working at the shop, so by the time I turned eighteen—or by the time Jake skipped town, whichever came first—I would be able to afford my own place.
“I really can sleep on the couch,” I said. “You don’t need to give me your bed. Anything is better than the bench seat of a dusty truck. I’ll be perfectly comfortable on the couch, I swear,”
“No,” he said, without saying anything more. It was one of the things I was beginning to like about him. He didn’t feel the need to explain everything all the time. He didn’t just talk to fill the silence between us with useless words.
Jake made a grocery store run while I finished unpacking. I offered to make dinner for us as a thank you, even though my skills were more of the heating up variety, but he had told me he loved to cook and never really had a chance or a place to do it while he was on the road.
I sat at the counter and watched him slice and chop vegetables. He finally took pity on my uselessness and let me peel potatoes but not without a thorough tutorial first. He had marinated chicken thighs in different spices and set them under the broiler. “You really know what you’re doing, don’t you?” I was amazed by his skills in the kitchen. “Who taught you how to cook?”
“My mom. She went to culinary school, but came back here after she graduated. She wanted to open her own restaurant, but then she married my dad and had Mason and me, so she kept putting it off.” He dropped some chopped onions into a pan. They sizzled and popped when they hit the oil. “Your mom never taught you how to cook?” he asked.
“I’m not a good cook,” I said.
“That didn’t answer the question,” He answered.
“Why do you want to know about my mother?”
“I just want to know you,” he said. I know he was serious about getting to know me, but my frustration was growing like it did every time I allowed that woman into my thoughts for more than a minute without dismissing her.
“What do you want me to tell you? Because I honestly can’t think of a single thing my mother actually taught me. Oh, wait. She did teach me how to tie off those yellow rubber tubes really good and tight around her arm so she could find part of a vein she hadn’t treated like a dart board. That was, of course, until she’d exhausted all those veins and they died in her arms like I wished she would have every time she picked up the goddamned needle or snorted some shit up her fucking nose.”
I got up and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I was mad, but not at Jake. I was mad I had let myself get that upset. The woman who gave birth to me wasn’t even worth my anger. I’d had a handle on it since the very last day I’d ever seen her, though I don’t know if I could really call avoidance having a handle on it.
After a several minutes, there was a knock at the door. “Bee?”
“Yeah?” I kind of liked his nickname for me. I’d never had one before.
“I’m sorry I pushed. I said I wasn’t going to, but I was curious, and I let it get the better of me. I won’t do it again.” He was apologizing to me when I was the one who acted like a giant ass-hat.
I opened the door. “You shouldn’t apologize. I’m just screwed up and you’re probably thinking that you’ve bitten off more than you can chew, and I understand, I’m just gonna go and—”
“We’re all a little damaged, Bee. Some of us more than others.” It was better he knew sooner rather than later how damaged I really was. He smiled and gestured to the counter where there was more food than any two people could consume in one lifetime. “Besides, you can’t go anywhere. Who is going to eat all this? I got a little carried away.”
“No shit,” I agreed. “Are you feeding an army?”
“I do eat a lot,” he said, patting his stomach. I could see the lines of his abs under his shirt.
“Yeah, you should knock off all the eating. It’s really making you gross to look at.”
“I’m vain enough to know that isn’t true, so I’m just gonna let that little insult slide.”
We sat at the bar and ate our food. Jake had made some sort of sliced potatoes he fried in butter with baked chicken thighs. The crispy skin was my favorite part. He also prepared roasted corn and a simple salad with dressing he’d made himself.
I was going to be very spoiled by the time I turned eighteen. And very, very fat.
“What do you like to do?” he asked. “Like, as a hobby?”
I had to think about whether or not smoking weed could be considered a hobby. “Not much. I can take pictures—or, at least, I think I can take pictures. In school they had loaner cameras for the photography class and I took to it pretty well. Even learned how to use the dark room to develop them. I had a knack for it, but at the end of the semester we had to give the cameras back, so I never got to find out if I was any good.”
“My dad might have a camera around you can use,” he offered. “I’ll see if it’s in his office somewhere.” He popped a slice of potato into his mouth with his fingers.
“Really? I mean, I don’t want to take his camera.”
“It’s nothing. I know he’s never even used it. I think I saw it the other day in his office. I’ll grab it for you tomorrow. No big deal.”
No big deal? It was a huge deal. I wasn’t used to people just handing over expensive possessions for me to use.
When we’d finished and I’d consumed more food than anyone my size should ever attempt to eat, I volunteered to clear our plates and do the dishes since I hadn’t contributed anything useful to the delicious meal I’d just devoured.
Jake didn’t argue with me. I had just started loading the dishwasher when a phone rang. He pulled a small black flip phone out of his pocket and when he glanced at the screen, his mood changed and his face went hard. The soft Jake from dinner was gone and in his place was a much more serious-looking version of himself. “I gotta take this. Be right back.” He stepped out of the back door that led to a small covered patio. From where I stood in the kitchen, I could hear him speaking to someone in hushed tones. He wasn’t the only one who was curious. I tiptoed over to the door and pressed my ear against it.
“When?” I heard him ask in a loud whisper. “I can’t do it for a couple of weeks. Why? Because I’m in the middle of something right now and because it means tracking him halfway across fucking Europe—that’s why. And as you know, that will take a lot of time and money.” There was a pause. “Expenses, plus three-hundred or I’m out. Yes, that’s three-hundred-thousand.” Another pause. “Fuck you, then. I can’t do this forever, and I need an out. My prices have gone up.” Another pause. “Then, he can get someone else to do it. I don’t give a fuck. You need me more than I need you.” A longer pause, “I’ll text you the address for the drop from a throwaway tomorrow. I won’t contact you when it’s done. Same as always.”
The phone snapped shut.
I ran back to the kitchen and was putting another plate into the dishwasher when he came back inside. “Everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. Just some work shit.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes and shoved his phone back in his pocket.
“What kind of work shit?” I asked.
“Pass,” he said, not even turning to look at me before he plopped down on the couch and put his feet on the coffee table. He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, raising the volume to a level where having any sort of conversation would’ve been impossible. It was like he was using another play out of the Abby Ford Avoidance Hand Book.
I finished the dishes, and by the time I was done wiping the counters, Jake was already asleep in the recliner. I took the throw from the back of the couch and set it over him. I located the linen closet and found what I needed to set up the couch. I had no idea how to pull it out so I decided to make it up as it was. I tucked a fitted sheet around the cushions and used a top sheet and light blanket to lay over it. I took one of the two pillows from the bed and made sure it was there on the couch for him when he woke up in the recliner and realized what painful angle his neck was in. It was all turned down for him, just waiting for him to hop in.
I got myself ready for bed and was brushing my teeth when my thoughts drifted to the conversation he had on the phone outside earlier. Why had he been whispering? What was he hiding? Was he a private detective or a bounty hunter? A million scenarios ran through my head, but not one I came up with seemed right.
The first night I met Jake, just a few days ago, he’d held a gun to my head. The bulge of his gun was always noticeable to me now that I knew that he kept it tucked into the back of his jeans.
There was a reason he wouldn’t tell me what he did for a living.
He wasn’t embarrassed by what he did. He was simply hiding it. After listening in on his conversation, all signs pointed to the reason for that secrecy being far darker than I originally thought.
CHAPTER TEN
THE NEXT DAY WAS MY FIRST DAY working at the shop. When I woke up, I found a note Jake had left for me, telling me he was already working and that I should meet him over there when I was ready. I showered. I pulled my hair back into a simple braid and put on a pair of jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt. I pushed my feet into my boots, but decided against wearing my hoodie in an attempt to look somewhat professional. It was the best I could manage with what I had. I grabbed my hoodie and brought it with me anyway, just in case I felt the need to hide in it.
I reported to the office Reggie had told me was mine the day before. Since the shop didn’t officially open for another half an hour, I took the opportunity to organize the clutter and dust off the furniture. I felt like someone was staring at me as I worked, and when I turned around, sure enough, I saw Jake through the blinds, wiping the grease off a wrench with a rag and smiling at me through the window. I didn’t take my gaze from him until the phone rang and snapped me out of my fog.
“Good morning. Dunn’s Garage,” I answered the way Reggie had instructed.
***
The entire day flew by so quickly, I barely had time to finish the coffee and donut Jake brought me while I was on the phone making an appointment for a tune-up on Mrs. Grabel’s Chevy. Jake had checked in on me a few times, and each time I saw him he had more grease on his face and coveralls. I scheduled all the appointments, answered the phones, placed orders brought to me on tickets the guys scribbled on, and at noon, I ran across the street to get lunch for all four mechanics. They were grateful but ate while they worked. I had a feeling they were used to the craziness and may have eaten a little grease with their sandwiches.
Jake had taken the truck after lunch and didn’t come back for a couple of hours. I figured he was out getting parts or running shop-related errands. I reminded myself to tell him I would be more than happy to run his errands so he wouldn’t have to.
At the end of the day, Reggie came over and practically yelled at me to leave. The filing I was in the middle of could wait until tomorrow. I was sure it could, but I was enjoying my job. It gave me a small sense of purpose and kept my mind busy. It was like another way for me to stay numb.
Busy equals numb
I’d have to remember that.
I didn’t see Jake around the shop, so I headed back to the apartment. I heard the shower running and assumed he’d beaten me home. My attention was captured by what was on the counter. A camera, a state of the art Canon, with three long lenses lined up next to it. Next to that was what looked to be a brand new camera bag.
There was no way this was his dad’s old camera.
Jake came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and nothing else. Steam billowed out after him. He halted when he saw me standing in the kitchen. His carved abs were on full display, the tattoos I’d only seen portions of before were now in full view, winding up around his shoulder in beautiful vine type lines connecting smaller pictures and letters I couldn’t quite make out. I followed them with my eyes up to where they ended at his neck. The stirring in me came back.
“Hey, sorry. I didn’t know you were home yet,” Jake said.
Home.
I tore my eyes from his bare chest and focused on the floor instead. “Oh, don’t worry about me I was just…looking at the camera.”
“Yeah, check it out while I put some damned clothes on. Don’t want you thinking this is one of those nakey houses.” He smirked. “Unless you’re into that kind of thing.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” I said. But I had an idea. Something told me it was him who didn’t know what a nakey house really was.
He gave me an exaggerated wink and disappeared into the bedroom, emerging just a few seconds later in a pair of black draw string sweat pants and a gray wife-beater.
“He owns something with color in it!” I covered my open mouth in mock surprise.
“Is gray considered a color?”
“I think it is.”
“Then, I’m gonna burn it tomorrow!” he shouted. “I wouldn’t want to ruin my rep.”
“No, you wouldn’t want that,” I agreed. I looked back at the counter and gestured to the camera and equipment. “What is all this?”
“I told you. It’s my dad’s old camera. You can have it. He left it here years ago and hasn’t ever used it.”
“Really?” I asked him. “Your dad’s old camera?”
“Yeah, why?” he asked nervously.
“What do you mean why?” I picked up the camera bag and showed him the price tag still stuck underneath it.
“So dad left the tag on. He does stuff like that.” He grabbed a bottle from the fridge and twisted off the cap. “Beer?”
“Yes, but don’t change the subject.” He grabbed another beer, opened it and handed it to me. “Did your dad also go to Herman’s Electronics at two this afternoon and spend two-thousand four-hundred dollars on a brand new Canon, a camera bag, accessories, and two prepaid phones?”
“Shit,” he said. He knew he was caught, and his face told me didn’t really care. He was smiling from ear to ear.
“Yeah, shit! You left the receipt in the box.” I lifted the little white slip of paper up to him and waved it in the air. “You didn’t have to buy this for me, Jake. It’s too much. I can’t accept it.”
“Yes, you can. I make good money. I’ve never bought anything expensive other than my bike. I wanted to get this for you, and I’m not taking it back.” He might as well have said the sky is blue, it was that matter-of-fact.
“Yes, you are!” I argued. I’d never owned something that valuable, and I never planned to. In my experience, bad things happened to people with nice things. Besides, Jake had already done too much for me, and I had no way of repaying him.
“Nope. Here’s how I see it.” He leaned his elbows on the counter and played with the label on his beer. “You can either accept the camera and say ‘thank you Jake for my new beautiful camera’ or…” He took a sip of his beer, amusement passing through his blue eyes. “…I will throw it off the Matlacha Pass.” He took another sip. “Your call, Bee.”
“You wouldn’t!” I shouted. Something told me he didn’t bluff, and I wasn’t about to take that chance with equipment this expensive.
“Oh yes, I would. You have no idea what I’m capable of.” I had a feeling he was talking about more than his willingness to toss camera gear from high places.
“Okay fine. But here’s how I see it.” I leaned onto the counter and mimicked his stance. “I am going to use the brand new fancy camera and…I’m going to love it.”
“Now we’re talking. Case closed.”
“No no no—not so fast. I am going to use it and love it, but I am going to pay you back for it. Every penny. As soon as I can save up enough.”
“Fuck no,” he said. “I’ll just burn the money.”
“I don’t care what you do with it. I’m still paying you.”
“Then, I’ll just use it to buy you something else.”
“Then, I’ll just pay you for that, too,” I said.
“You’re impossible, you know that?” Jake asked.
“Yes, I do know that.” I smiled. “Now, make me some food. I’m starving.”
“I believe we have some business to get out of the way first?”
“What business?”
He smiled back. “Secrets first, then dinner.”
“Oh yeah...secrets.” I was getting bolder around him, and I liked it. “Go!”
“Why don’t you like to be touched?”
“Pass,” I answered. “Why did you buy two throw-away cell phones today?”
“Pass,” he answered. “What’s your middle name?”
“Marie.” I already knew his was Francis. I’d seen it on the papers Miss Thornton had showed me. So, I didn’t bother asking. “Why do you carry a gun?”
“I’ve answered this one for you before. Because there are some dangerous people out there.”