No Perfect Hero(77)

And before I can snap, before I can completely lose it, I turn and walk out. Blake hovers close by as if he’s afraid I’ll go rabid again and need to be put down for my own good.

He’s not entirely wrong. I can’t think straight.

My head buzzes with hornets, everything slashing through me in stinging bites of emotion, making my skull swim and reverberate until everything’s a blur.

Outside, I take several deep breaths of crisp evening air, letting it scour down inside me to clear my head and make the thump of my pulse calm down.

Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, curling and uncurling my fists in time. And all the while Blake just stands at my shoulder, looking up at the sky, letting me be.

It’s a long time before I feel like I can speak without it being a pure animalistic growl, but when I do, I mutter grudgingly, “Sorry.”

“Like I said,” Blake says quietly, bumping his elbow to mine, “no shade. We all handle loss in different ways. I just didn’t want you to get into trouble you couldn’t get out of.”

I smile grimly. “There’s nothing Bress can do to me that I can’t get out of.”

Blake barks a laugh. “You’re such an arrogant asshole.”

“Some days, yeah. I can be.” It’s easier to breathe now, at least.

I hate how wrecked up this still gets me. It’s like I’m frozen in time, and it only moves forward just enough to chase me every inch that I struggle free.

Yet the present catches up to me and pulls me back into the moment as my phone vibrates in my pocket. Just the sight of the little selfie Hay texted me yesterday for her icon, her mouth screwed up into a self-mocking smirk and one eye squinted, relaxes the ferocious thing howling inside me. I swipe my thumb across the screen and read her text, frowning.

Hey. Stewart texted me and said there’s another problem with the car. Something about a gasket. Would you mind checking with him on your way back?

“That your girl?” Blake asks, leaning in.

“She’s my something,” I murmur absently and tap out a quick response.

No problem, Hay. Did you want me to pick anything up for dinner on the way?

There’s a pause before she fires back, Do you love mushrooms on anything besides that burger? Make or break question here.

I grin. Somehow after all the mess, after all the rage and hate burning through me, I’m grinning.

Love. Does this mean we can or can’t share a pizza?

My phone pings with another text from her a second later. Just grab some mushroom caps. Or whole mushrooms and I’ll just pluck the stems. Dumbass.

It’s followed by several heart emojis and a middle finger.

Yeah.

That’s Hay.

“Damn, man. Haven’t seen you smiling like that in a while,” Blake murmurs. “Looks good on you.”

“Haven’t had much reason to,” I answer, pocketing my phone. “I need to go. Sorry to cut this short.”

“Yeah? Where to?”

“Just need to check on her car. Stewart’s having some kind of problem with it.” I smile wryly and offer Blake my hand. “Seriously, it’s been way too long. We need to do something together soon.”

“There’s always summer fishing at the cabin, if you stick around.” He clasps my hand and shakes firmly, warmly, with the comfort and strength of familiarity. Of old friendships, old bonds. “Doc always gets a laugh out of it.”

“Because I can’t fish for shit and they always slip the hook,” I point out.

Blake snorts, but I don’t feel much like laughing.

Because right now, with the way everything’s going, I feel a little too much sympathy for the fish.

I feel like I’m being baited and left to dangle.

The only question is, by who?





*



Pep-Pep-Go is dark when I get there, but Stewart’s big old muscle truck is in the lot.

It's this massive thing on huge tires that looks like he stole it from a retired monster truck auction. It’s big enough to practically crush my own truck and not even notice it.

I try not to wonder whether or not my friend’s compensating for something.

Stew opens the door to the main shop just as I pull up. He’s changed out of his usual coveralls into casual jeans and a t-shirt, and he raises his hand in greeting as I step out.

I don’t see any sign of Haley’s Mustang, but the garage section is rolled down and closed off for the night.

“Hey,” I say, slamming the door of my truck. “What’s up with Haley’s car?”

“Nothing much, War,” he says, and leans against the hood of my Dodge, folding his arms over his chest. “I just knew if I texted ‘don’t go to Brody’s, Bress is on the way’ you’d ignore me.”

I narrow my eyes. “You fucking—you baited me to get me to leave?”

“More like tried to save your ass from a catastrophe, since you’ve been a live wire lately. I don’t want to see you in jail,” he replies flatly, lofting both brows and giving me a measuring look. “You were there?”

“Yeah.”

“Did anything happen?”

Grunting, I look away, dragging a hand through my hair. “We had words. Blake dragged me outside.”