Custom Built

by Chantal Fernando

  Crow laughs under his breath, and reaches over and takes my hand. “That’s a dangerous question, don’t you think?”

  I pointedly look down at our now intertwined fingers. “Says you as you hold my hand.”

  “Yeah, well,” he grumbles, “apparently my life was much simpler before you walked through those doors.”

  “Is that why you acted like I was a pain in the ass from the get-go? I kept hearing and seeing how you were with everyone else yet with me your guard was right up. It was infuriating,” I admit.

  “I don’t know,” he replies, shrugging those broad shoulders of his. “You being there in my space just had me on edge and I couldn’t figure out why. And I couldn’t stop looking at you; it was damn distracting. And to be honest, I’ve watched the brothers fall one by one, and fuck if I don’t want to be next.”

  “Fall?”

  “In love.”

  “I see,” I murmur, clearing my throat. Okay, so not ready to go there yet.

  We keep chatting until we’re stopped at the front of my place. Billie is fast asleep in the back, and before I shake her awake, I undo my belt and turn to Crow.

  “I had fun tonight,” I say, locking gazes. “It was unexpected, but fun.”

  “Me too,” he murmurs, gently reaching out his finger and touching my cheek. “So beautiful you are, Bronte.”

  Smiling widely, I lean forward, hoping that he might do the same and kiss me. I’ve never wanted a kiss more in my life, and I hope he can’t tell that by looking in my eyes. But at the same time I hope he gets the hint and gives me what I want.

  He does, leaning forward. My eyes are about to shutter closed when his phone, which is sitting up in the drink holder between us, starts to ring, a name lighting up: HEIDI.

  Who the hell is Heidi?

  Either way the moment is ruined, especially at the thought of him having a girlfriend, or maybe just someone he’s seeing or sleeping with at the moment. Maybe it’s the reality check I need right now. Crow has heartbreaker written all over him, and I need to get my ass inside.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I say, get out the car, wake Billie up and drag her inside. I don’t look back at the car, at him, and when I’m safely in the apartment I lean against the door and close my eyes, my head falling back on the hard wood.

  Fuck.

  * * *

  The next day at lunch with Abbie, I want to ask about Crow and find out everything I can on him, but I don’t. I’m here to spend time with Abbie and get to know her more, and I’m not going to waste that on a man who is potentially right now screaming someone called Heidi’s name.

  “I heard you were spotted at Kamikaze last night,” she says before she takes a sip of warm coffee. “You should have told me, I would have met you out.”

  “I didn’t know I was going to Kamikaze until I was there,” I explain, telling her the story of how I accidentally ended up there.

  She puts her mug down, eyes alight with humor. “That’s hilarious. Temper said he saw you there, dancing with Crow. You going to tell me what’s going on?”

  Well, she brought him up, not me.

  “Nothing,” I say quickly, a little too quickly.

  Abbie arches her brow, waiting for a further explanation, probably the truth this time.

  “I mean, I have no idea. There’s something there between us, but I think we both know it’s going to be a bad idea to act on it. We’ve been circling each other at work, Crow has been an asshole at times, making me think he didn’t even like me at times, if I’m being honest. Like he’s fine with everyone else, but with me he goes from chill to broody instantly. Yet at the same time there’s some weird connection, and this is the first time I’m admitting this out loud.”

  “Interesting. In the entire time I’ve known Crow, I’ve never seen him with a girlfriend,” she says, tapping a black manicured fingernail against her chin.

  “Okay, so he’s not the commitment type,” I mutter, pursing my lips.

  Crow is a ladies’ man. I knew that from the second I saw him, because he is so damn confident, calm and good looking, there is no way in hell he doesn’t attract women.

  Hell, it attracted me.

  “Well,” she replies, wrinkling her nose. “I mean, he’s a Knight. It’s never going to be a problem for them to get a woman, okay?”

  “Great.”

  “But that doesn’t mean they can’t commit and be faithful. It just means they like to have fun when they are single, and there’s nothing wrong with that. No slut shaming in 2020.”

  “You calling Crow a slut?” I tease, laughing back when she does the same.

  “I never said that,” she says, raising her hands in the air. “He’s just a very...friendly guy.”

  I cover my face with my hands. “Exactly. Except with me he was standoffish at the start and it threw me off. But then last night we actually spoke and hung out—”

  “And dirty danced.”

  “Yes, and danced.” I sigh, staring down at the cake on my plate and wishing it would solve all my problems. “And I don’t know where we stand, but work is probably going to be awkward tomorrow, so I’m looking forward to that.”

  “So, nothing, right?” she teases, using my original statement against me.

  “Nothing.” I nod.

  “He’s a really nice guy,” Abbie says after a few moments. “He is used to taking care of everyone. He was a prospect when Skylar came into the Knights’ world and was ‘assigned’”—she uses air quotes—“to watch her and keep her safe when Saint wasn’t around. That included Izzy and me as well, so us women are a bit protective of him. He’s one of the good ones.”

  “Prospect?” I ask with a wrinkle in my brow.

  Abbie looks at me in confusion for a second before understanding what I was asking. “Oh, that means he wasn’t officially a member of the Knights. He was pledging, or whatever the boys call it. He was on probation.”

  “Got it. But he’s now a member?”

  “Yes. And honestly, Bronte, you have nothing to worry about with him. He never has anything bad to say about anybody. He’s just one of those easygoing, nothing-fazes-him types.”

  “Not around me. He was broody as shit.”

  “That’s because you’re different, and I don’t think he knows how to handle it,” she states, pushing her coffee away and bringing the lemon cake closer to her. “And I don’t think you do either.”

  I’ve had a few boyfriends in my time. Nothing amazing and no one really worth mentioning, but I’m not completely inexperienced. But she’s right.

  I have no fucking idea how to handle this situation.

  “He’s my boss, and I actually really love this job and all the people I work with. I take it seriously, you know? Getting involved with a boss is never a good idea. I think we should all let it go, because these things usually don’t end well.”

  “Technically Temper is your boss, not Crow,” Abbie adds, lip twitching. “I mean, Temper is the actual owner of the garage. Crow just runs it.”

  Did she just find a loophole for me?

  “We almost kissed last night,” I confide to her, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks. “I wanted him to kiss me, and then he was leaning in...”

  “And what happened?” she asks, sitting up straighter in excitement.

  “His phone rang and a woman’s name popped up, so I got the hell out of there, and that was how the night ended.” I wince, puffing out a deep breath.

  “What was her name?” she asks, bringing her face closer to mine.

  “Heidi.”

  She blinks slowly a few times. “Heidi is Crow’s sister.”

  Fuck.

  Chapter Seven

  After spending three hours with Abbie discussing everything from our childhoods to our friends to her dad, I decide to drive over to surprise my o
wn dad. I haven’t seen him since the barbecue, and although we spoke on the phone the other night, I know it’s not the same. I’m his only child and I need to remember that he’s not getting any younger. I should make sure I spend time with him.

  I put the new Eminem album on for the drive, only turning the volume down when I pull up in his driveway. When I get to the front door, I knock a few times, but he doesn’t open up. I know he’s home, though, because his car is here.

  “Dad?” I call out, knocking on his window this time, but nothing. Maybe he’s in the shower.

  “Let’s see,” I murmur, reaching up to one of the potted plants that hangs on his porch. “Bingo.”

  Some things never change.

  Key in my hand, I unlock the door and step inside. “Dad!” I call. “Your favorite daughter is home!”

  Nothing.

  Thinking he must be in the bathroom, I open the fridge and scan its contents before settling on some green grapes straight out of the bag. I pop a few in my mouth and close the door with my hip before I call his name again.

  Seeing his bedroom door slightly open, I push it the rest of the way and step inside, my eyes adjusting to the darkness.

  “Dad?” I ask, turning the light on. My eyes go straight away to his bed.

  When I see him there, unmoving, my heart stops.

  He looks like he’s sleeping, only...not. I’ve seen him asleep before, but this time he’s so still. Unnaturally still.

  I’ve never been more scared in my life, and I just hope and pray that he is okay.

  Please let him be okay.

  “Dad?” I say again, stepping toward him, moving the sheet from his neck and touching his shoulder, trying to gently shake him awake. “Dad?” My voice becomes more frantic as the reality of the situation hits me. Big, fat tears fall down my cheeks.

  “No,” I whisper, shaking my head. My trembling fingers reach for my phone in my jeans pocket and I call for an ambulance.

  “Yes, I found my dad and he’s unresponsive,” I say quickly to the man on the line, my voice breaking, and tell him the address. “No, he’s not breathing. Please, come soon.”

  I hang up and search for a pulse, but I find nothing.

  No.

  He’s going to be okay. He will be okay.

  “Dad?” I whisper, wrapping my arm around him. What happened to him? I don’t understand. He’s a healthy man, and there are no signs of blood or a struggle, or any visible injuries. I check him over, looking for any clues, but there’s nothing. It just looks like he’s asleep. My head can’t wrap around what my eyes are seeing.

  “I can’t lose you. You’re all I’ve got. Please.”

  I rest my head on him, and cry, my heart breaking with every sob.

  I don’t know what else to do.

  The rest of the day is a blur, and all I feel is numbness. I know it’s a defense mechanism, because there’s no other way I’m going to survive this loss.

  My dad was the one who got me through my mom’s death. He was there for me, sometimes just sitting with me in silence when I needed him, other times pushing me to express myself and talk to him. I don’t know how, but he just knew what I needed, and with him gone...

  So is my strength.

  No child should live through losing not one but both of her parents so young. I’m only twenty-four. I consider myself a strong woman, but grief...grief is something that can destroy me.

  Closing my eyes, I picture his face the last time I saw him, when he came into work with a smile on his face and food for me.

  I hope he knew how much I loved him. He was the best dad in the world, and there was no love like his.

  The ambulance arrives, and I know what they’re going to say before they say it. The paramedics give me a look of pure sympathy, and they all tell me how sorry they are.

  I know they are just being kind and doing their job, but I don’t want their sorrys.

  I want the one man who loved me more than life itself back.

  * * *

  I place the pillow over my head to try to block out the loud banging.

  Go away, I mouth, wishing whoever’s at the door would just leave me alone.

  It’s been a week since I lost my dad, and a few days since they told me he had overdosed on pain medication. My dad was someone who rarely even took ibuprofen, so I don’t really know what to do with that information. I’ve been thinking about it nonstop since I lost him, and the story I’ve been told just doesn’t sit well with me. There’s something fishy about it; I’m not buying it. I don’t know, in my gut I know that it’s not something he would do. I know I’ve been overthinking it, but I just can’t seem to let it go.

  I haven’t left my house once in all this time, and I keep ignoring anyone who tries to talk to me. I already saw everyone at the funeral, which was all a blur. My uncle planned the whole thing, asking for my input and making sure to include me, but I wasn’t really present. The only thing I can remember is excruciating pain and different faces with sympathy in their eyes.

  After the funeral, I locked myself in my apartment, and everyone else out. I’m just not ready to face people again, and I want to be left alone. I’ve probably lost my job, but right now I don’t care.

  Anything that mattered to me before means nothing to me right now.

  My heart is broken, and with the way I’m feeling I don’t think it’s something I’m ever going to recover from. I always thought nothing could break me, but now I know that’s not the truth.

  I’m a different person from who I was a week ago, and nobody knows me anymore.

  Sitting up when I hear the scrape of my window frame being forced open, I get out of bed in a rush. My eyes widen as I stare at Crow sliding into my now-open living room window.

  Is he kidding me right now?

  “Did you just break into my house?” I ask, frowning. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  As I look at him, I suddenly remember him being at my side at the funeral, talking to me and holding my hand. I don’t think I said much, but now that I see him in front of me, I knew he was there.

  “No one has seen or heard from you, and we’re all worried,” he says, taking a step closer to me. He rakes his gaze over me, as if making sure I’m okay. “You can’t just shut us all out, Bronte.”

  “I just want to be alone,” I say, sighing, tears filling my eyes.

  “When’s the last time you ate? Or showered?” he asks gently. “I know you want to be alone, but maybe what you need is someone to take care of you right now.”

  He comes over and wraps his arms around me. Kissing me on the top of my head, he whispers, “You will get through this. I’m so sorry, Bronte, and I know nothing will take the pain away, but don’t push the people who care about you away, okay?”

  I melt into him, allowing myself to be weak, allowing the tears to drop and my body to tremble. He lifts me up and carries me to the bathroom, like a child, and fills up the bath. I hang on to him, like he can fix this, when I know he can’t. No one can. But he’s trying, and that’s more than I can do for myself right now.

  When the bath is warm, he helps me undress and places me in the water. He doesn’t look at me in that way, and I appreciate that. He leaves me alone in the bath and heads out. I stay in until the water is about to turn cold, then get out, brush my teeth and my hair, and make myself feel human again. After putting on my silk robe and wrapping it around me, I step into the kitchen to find Crow making some coffee.

  “I was going to cook you something, but you don’t have much to work with, so I ordered some Chinese food in,” he says, sliding me over the mug. “How are you feeling?”

  “A little better,” I say. Physically, at least. “What would you have done if my apartment wasn’t on the ground floor?”

  “I got lucky.” He grins, flashing his teeth. “Come o
n, let’s go sit down.”

  We cuddle up on the couch, and I drink the coffee in silence. Crow lets me, and just strokes my hair and my shoulders, sending goose bumps over my skin. “Abbie is worried sick about you, and so is her dad.”

  “I just can’t deal with it right now,” I admit, placing the mug down on the coffee table and burying my face in his neck and shoulder. “Why did this happen, Crow? I’ve lost both my parents now. And my dad...he was... God. He was my rock.”

  “I don’t know why it happened,” he whispers back. “There’s no answer to that, Bronte. Life is unfair, and bad things happen to good people, and no one can control that.”

  I cry some more.

  “I’ve got you,” he says, and I don’t know why, but I believe him.

  The Chinese food arrives, and I eat a proper meal for the first time in days. Crow cleans up my apartment and even changes my sheets for me. Where did this man come from? I shouldn’t have to have him doing these things for me, but it’s almost like I’ve given up on life.

  I need to fight. I know my dad wouldn’t want to see me like this. He’d want me to be strong, and to push through.

  I just don’t know how to do it without him.

  “Thank you, Crow,” I say as he comes out of my bedroom. “Thank you for breaking in here and...for everything.”

  “You don’t have to thank me,” he replies, sitting back down with me. “I promised your dad that I’d look after you, and I meant it, Bronte. I’m here for you.”

  My tummy is full.

  My house is clean.

  My heart is...empty.

  But still beating.

  And that slow, soft strum is going to have to be enough to save me.

  * * *

  “Hey, Nadia, could you please call me back when you get this message? It’s important, thanks,” I say into her voice mail.

  Placing my phone down on my side table, I look up at the ceiling and know I have to push myself to get out of bed, and out of this apartment. Crow has dropped by for the last four days, making sure I’ve eaten and that I’m okay, and I don’t know how I’m ever going to thank him for being here in my darkest hours. He was my strength when I had none, but now I’m going to have to stand on my own two feet.