“Don’t be jealous, nobody exists but you, Ry,” I admit.
He makes a noise, then sighs. “I can’t help it. There’s just something about you, something about the way you make me feel.”
Closing my eyes, a smile forms on my lips. “I feel the same way,” I admit.
We talk for a few more minutes, but I find myself drifting off to sleep between words. He urges me to go to bed. We hang up, and when the call ends, that guilt has completely vanished. I don’t feel manipulative, or like a user, I feel completely and totally head over heels—in love.
RYLAN
Wyatt throws something at me as he walks through the door and I automatically lift my hands to catch whatever it is. When the paper bag lands in my hand, I grin.
“Breakfast tacos,” I chuckle.
“Don’t get used to good food like this. We’re just about done with getting anything but possibly soggy sandwiches on day-old bread,” he states.
“I’ve had worse.” I shrug taking the tacos out of the bag. “You eat already?” I ask looking at the six tacos that fill half of the white paper sack.
He grins. “Yeah, cute little waitress hooked me up with tacos…” He lets his words trail off.
“Tacos and what?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I don’t kiss and tell, fucker.”
“Liar.”
He picks up his pillow and throws it at me. I’m taking a bite of food and it hits me in the side of my head, but I don’t even react, I continue to eat which only makes him laugh, then flip me off.
“Wouldn’t hurt you to find someone else, you know,” I mutter.
“Yeah,” he grunts, turning from me to stare out the window.
It’s windy as fuck outside, the trees swaying in a way where I’m not sure they’re going to hold the rest of the day. It’s not even the calm before the storm, the storm is here, and we’re supposed to just wait it out, hoping not to get caught up in its ferocity.
Kind of like my fucking life. I’m waiting out the moment that Channing finds out I killed a pregnant woman because of my own stupidity. When she discovers the truth, I have no doubt that she will be as ferocious as this CAT four hurricane that is about to slam into the Gulf Coast.
“Sammi isn’t the only woman on the planet. Let that anger go, and move the fuck on,” I suggest. Ignoring my own demons that are screaming at me.
He snorts. “You know I’ve been with other women, right? Just because she keeps appearing in my bed, doesn’t mean that she’s the only girl I’ve fucked.”
Taking another bite of the taco, I nod. “I assumed that, Wyatt. But serious as fuck, cousin, you haven’t opened yourself to anyone. Just because you fucked someone else, doesn’t mean you’ve moved on.”
“And you know all about relationships because you’ve been trying to combat your guilt with the newly abandoned pregnant woman in town?”
Narrowing my gaze on him, my jaw clenches. I know he’s lashing out. He liked Channing and he’s said before that he likes us together. He doesn’t mean what he’s saying, even if he’s being a goddamn prick right now.
“Don’t turn this around to me. We’re talking about you,” I state.
He sighs, lifting his hand I watch as he runs his fingers through his hair before he tugs on the ends. “Yeah, I know. Fifteen years sounds like a long fucking time, but really? It feels like she did what she did only yesterday. I’m so fucking pissed off, and I don’t even like her, Ry,” he says.
“Why did you let her keep coming back?” I ask, curious rather than accusatory. I don’t know much about relationships, at all, but I know enough to realize that what Wyatt and Sammi have had over the years isn’t healthy for either of them.
He grunts. “I sound like a dick. We didn’t have sex, we fucked. It was raw, it was almost animalistic, and it was angry. She accepted it, and I think deep down, she decided that she deserved it, and so did I.”
I’m not sure what else to say, the story is fucked up and sad. Sammi and I have something in common, we’ve killed, but for different reasons. She was young and scared. I was young and stupid. Both of us have to live with our pasts for the rest of our lives.
However, I know Wyatt and he will never forgive her, which is why they both need to move on. I commend Sammi for picking up and moving away, for taking control of her life and setting them both free. They both need that freedom, and Wyatt won’t leave Gallup, not ever.
He needs to do the same as her, he needs to move the fuck on. The past cannot be changed, it cannot be fixed. It is already set. The future is where we can change, grow, and become better people.
I open my mouth to tell him this, but he’s staring out the window, completely lost inside of his own head. Continuing to eat my breakfast, I stay silent. He’ll get it, hopefully one day he will meet his Channing and finally fucking get it.
Chapter Nineteen
CHANNING
It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen Rylan. He calls me maybe once a day, and when he does he sounds tired—completely and totally exhausted. I’ve been watching the news on the devastation of the hurricane, and it makes my heart ache. I ask him if he’s okay, but he brushes me off, he doesn’t ever want to talk about himself, his major concern is always me and the baby.
The fact that he’s more concerned with me than he is himself makes me feel warm inside, because I feel the same. More concerned with him rather than myself. Taking a burger plate over to a table, I set it down with a smile just as the door rings with a new customer.
Lifting my head toward the door, I am surprised to see Louis and Beaumont standing in the entrance.
“Anywhere y’all like,” I smile.
They don’t return my smile and I frown. I open my mouth to ask if there’s anything wrong when James and Jennifer slip in behind them. My lips snap closed and my eyes narrow on them.
Louis and Beaumont, both walk toward me, crowding me so that I can’t see James or Jennifer.
“Stay calm, darlin’,” Beaumont murmurs.
“What now?” I demand.
Louis shakes his head. “No clue. Sheriff’s been called. They’ll be here in a few, just steer clear of them while we wait. Come and take our order. Ignore their asses,” he mutters.
“Sheriff isn’t going to do anything. High school teacher and his wife, perfect little couple? He won’t do shit,” I hiss.
Louis and Beaumont both turn me around by placing their palms on my shoulder.
“So what if he doesn’t? You have to take a stand, and this is the way you’re going to do it. Hopefully it means you stay safe in the process,” Louis mutters.
The two men only release me when they sit down at an empty table. It takes everything inside of me not to turn and look at James and Jennifer. I don’t, though. I keep my gaze trained on either Louis or Beaumont. They both talk to me about the menu and ask me questions to keep my mind off of the two people I want to see the least at the moment.
Louis clears his throat and stands, the bell rings at the front door again and I turn around to see a sheriff’s officer standing at the entrance. He lifts his chin to Louis, who I assume motions for him to come over toward us, behind me.
“You call?” he asks, Louis.
“I did. Miss. Shephard is having a problem with a couple of the patrons here. They seem to be stalking her,” he explains.
The sheriff’s officer’s eyes shift to me and I watch him frown, and something dark crosses his features. “I don’t come out on calls because someone comes into a diner to eat more than once,” he explains.
I shrink back, but Louis places his hand on my lower back for support. “It’s more than that, Robby, and you know it,” Beaumont grunts as he too, stands from his chair.
The sheriff’s eyes widen, and his head turns toward Beaumont, a smile forming on his lips. “Fuckin’ A, Beaumont, I didn’t know you were in town,” he chuckles.
“I am, now these people have been bothering my friend. Not just here, but at her home, out a
t the grocery store, and around town,” Beaumont explains.
The sheriff’s officer lets out a sigh, turning his gaze back to me. “I’m sorry, Channing. I can’t do much for you. They ain’t hurtin’ you in any way. You have a history with him as his mistress, and it looks bad.” I flinch at his words, but he continues. “Mr. and Mrs. Bridges are good contributing members of society…” His words trail off, but I understand what he’s implying.
I nod. “I understand. I’m moving in a couple of weeks, I just have to wait for my boyfriend to come back from working the hurricane,” I explain, then I lay my hand on my stomach. “I just want to be safe while I wait for him to come home.”
He doesn’t miss my not-so-subtle move and clears his throat. He already knows that I was sleeping with James, hell the entire town does at this point. I would be more surprised if someone didn’t know.
Clearing his throat, he lifts his hand and adjusts his cowboy hat. “I’ll talk to them, tell them to steer clear. It’s about all I can do at this point,” he says.
Without another word, he turns to leave and walks over to James and Jennifer who just so happen to be sitting in Lulamae’s section this time. I narrow my eyes on them, for just a moment, before I turn back to face Beaumont and Louis.
“Thanks for trying,” I smile. It’s shaky and fake, they both see it, but thankfully they don’t comment on the fact.
Louis grins. “How about we order some food, hang around for a while?”
“Sounds good to me,” Beaumont grunts.
With a shaky hand to match my shaky smile, I write down their orders. They’re kind of complicated and have a million substitutions, which I’m grateful for because by the time I’m finished taking notes, I’ve calmed down.
Louis and Beaumont spend the rest of the afternoon, until my shift is over, in the diner hanging out and watching me. I know what they’re doing, and I feel bad that they’re stuck playing babysitter, but I’m glad. I have a feeling James and Jennifer came in here for a reason, and that reason was to attempt to torture me and be cruel.
“Thanks guys,” I say as the three of us walk toward my shitty car.
“You working tomorrow?” Louis asks.
I shake my head. “It’s my one day off this week,” I smile.
He nods. “Good. I didn’t like the look in that guy’s eyes,” he grunts.
I think about James, about how he treated me, how he fucked me, his actions so different from the way Rylan makes love to me. Shaking my head, James never made love, not even once. He fucked me, and he didn’t care if I got off or not. What we had, it’s nothing like me and Rylan have. It was dirty, manipulative, and now that it’s over I feel disgusted over the entire thing.
Rylan cares, he shows me every day, in some way or another. When he touches me, even when it’s hard and fast I don’t feel anything but love from him. I stumble just thinking about that. Love. He loves me. He hasn’t said it, but I feel it in everything he does for me. Do I love him back? The question floats for about a minute in my head.
I do.
I love him.
“Channing?” Louis asks.
My body jerks and I turn to him, my hand on the handle of my car door. “Yeah?”
He’s smiling kindly, his eyes searching mine. “You’re okay to drive home? We’re going to follow you. Beaumont can drive your car if you need him to,” he offers.
Shaking my head, I tell them no thank you and give them both a small wave. Climbing into my car, I start the engine, Rylan is still at the forefront of my thoughts, that and the fact that I’ve fallen in love with him.
Rolling my lips together, I can’t help the smile that appears on my lips as I drive home. I’m happy. Happier than I should be, happier than I have any right to be, but I am.
RYLAN
The road home should feel like it’s paved in gold. It doesn’t. I’m hot, sore, tired and I feel sick. I’m not sick for any reason other than what tomorrow is. I should stay here for the next few days, but I can’t. We’re in a convoy and I have to follow Wyatt’s truck the entire drive home.
I haven’t even told Channing that I’m on my way back. At first, I wanted to surprise her, now I’m feeling antsy as fuck. I’m not so sure I should even see her. She was so happy the last time I talked to her on the phone, I couldn’t tell her what was bothering me. Fuck, I don’t know if I will ever be able to tell her, either. The closer we get to Gallup, the worse I feel.
When we finally pull into the work yard, I park my truck and kill the engine, but I don’t climb out. I stay sitting behind the wheel, staring straight ahead. Two weeks away had felt like a lifetime, but the anniversary of tomorrow, it feels like a raw wound. It will never heal. Six years later and it will not heal. I feel like I’m being thrust back to that day, to that moment when I heard the news of what I did, of the permanent damage that I caused.
Wyatt startles me when he knocks on the cab’s door. I push it open, my eyes probably rimmed with red because I’m a pussy and fucking cried the entire drive home. I can’t go back to Channing. I can’t walk into that duplex and be the man she needs me to be. I can’t have that dream that is so fucking close it’s within my grasp.
“Rylan,” Wyatt rasps.
“Can I stay with you?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I want to tell you, yes, but I’m not going to.”
Frowning, I look down at my cousin before I slowly climb out of the truck. “What do you mean, you won’t tell me yes?” I demand.
“You need to work through this on your own, Ry. This is part of you. I know what tomorrow is, and I know why you want to stay with me. You cannot leave that girl, not after all you been through and all the steps you took to be where you are with her. You made promises, Rylan. You made plans. She’s counting on you to come through. Do not puss out,” he lectures.
“It ain’t pussin’ out if I’m trying to save her,” I growl.
He shakes his head, lifting his hand and running his fingers through his hair. “You ain’t savin’ her from shit if you run away like a coward.”
“Savin’ her from myself. That’s what I’ll be doin’,” I bark.
Wyatt leans forward slightly, his eyes focusing on mine. “Liar. Let her help you, the way you help her. Do not run. Do not be your father.” His words hit their target, just as they’re meant to. I jerk back from them, then shake my head.
“You think you know, Wyatt,” I mutter.
“But?”
“You don’t know shit,” I grind out.
Walking away from him, I make my way into the office and collect my last few paychecks. I’m told by the foreman to be back at work Monday morning bright and early. I don’t commit or deny my presence. Honestly, I don’t know if I will be here.
Right now? I would say no. I fucking need to make it through this weekend, through tomorrow, is what I need to do.
Walking away from the yard, Wyatt calls my name, but I flip him off. It’s just a few miles into town, and I can hoof it there. I have one thought and one only. I need a goddamn drink. I’d love to get high too, but it’s not a need—a drink is a fucking need right now. A few minutes later Wyatt pulls up next to me.
“Get in the truck,” he shouts through the rolled down passenger window. I ignore him as his pickup continues to crawl beside me. “Get in the goddamn truck you stubborn fucking Lindsay,” he growls.
Stopping, I turn to him. “That’s right. I’m a Lindsay. I’m a no good motherfuckin’ Lindsay. I’m going to do what we do best. I’m going to get some fucking booze, some weed, and I’m going to drown myself for the weekend. We’ll see if I wake up Monday morning and feel like coming to work. If I don’t, I have a whole career I can fall the fuck back on,” I shout.
“You do this, then you ain’t the man I thought you were, Rylan. You do this and you ain’t the man Channing needs.”
“She’ll still spread her legs for me, though. She’ll still give me sweet pussy. Jealous?”
His eyes narrow. He lo
oks at me like I’m scum, because what I just said, it’s something a scumbag would say. “Go fuck yourself, Rylan. You want to become what people expect you to become, then go right a-fuckin-head. Turn into your daddy.”
He speeds off, leaving me in a whirlwind of dust and rocks. Fuck him. Fuck it. I know what I said was wrong. I know that I don’t really feel that way. I also know that this day makes me sick every year. This year it’s worse. This year I have Channing and a new baby, this year is my first year on the outside.
This is my defining moment of will I make it or will I crumble.
Crumble.
I’m going to fucking crumble.
I can see it clearly in front of me.
I just can’t fucking stop myself.
Chapter Twenty
CHANNING
After sleeping in longer than I probably should have, I take my time getting dressed for the day. I’m thankful to have a day off. It only happens once a week, so I always take my time and enjoy every bit. I start to clean up the house, mop and vacuum, clean bathrooms and start a load of laundry.
Once my house is clean, and laundry is going, I decide to head to the store. It’s late afternoon, and I slide into the driver’s seat of my car, starting the engine before I take my phone out of my pocket. Frowning, I look to see if I have any notifications and I’m disappointed when I don’t.
I haven’t heard from Rylan since Wednesday evening. Yesterday was the first time since he left that he hasn’t called me. Our conversations are usually really short, but he has called me at least once every day, except yesterday. I can’t help but feel concerned, maybe even a bit worried that something has happened to him down at the Gulf.
Deciding to do my shopping at Walmart, because frankly the elastic in my panties is stretched to its limits and I need to invest in a larger size, along with a larger bra. I knew I would be growing bigger—everywhere, I had just hoped it wasn’t quite so soon.
CONVICT: An Unfit Hero Novel Page 15
