Breathe the Sky

by Michelle Hazen

  She hugged her arms over her chest as she watched the crew trucks pull in. He’d tried to help her heal, in the only quiet, fumbling way he knew how. That should count for something. But did she want to forgive him out of old self-sabotaging habits, or because she really believed he wouldn’t try to control her again in the future?

  Rajni’s pizza trick was memorable, but telling a good man from a bad one was far more complicated than food. Mari wasn’t sure she’d survive choosing the wrong man twice.

  * * *

  —

  For the next few days, she walked a rut around the construction site, so distracted that she’d have to check a patch of dirt two or three times before she could be sure there wasn’t a lizard on it, or fresh tracks anywhere. Jack never came back to the motel, so either the family emergency was real, or he was giving her space. One moment, she’d decide to forgive him, and in the next she was convinced that was the worst choice she could make. She thought about how he used to explode into shouting the first time anything went the least bit wrong. And then she thought about how terrified he’d been of hurting her in bed, even a little bit.

  On the third day, when her phone rang in her pocket just after lunch, she scrambled to get it out and peek at the screen. Maybe it would be Jack . . .

  That was ridiculous. She’d told him not to call, so she shouldn’t go hoping he might. But when she saw the 262 area code, she relaxed. It was that same unfamiliar number from Wisconsin that had called before, which was a double relief because she was afraid that if it had been Jack, she might have answered. And also because it meant she was on some telemarketer’s automated dialing list after all.

  “Please put me on your do-not-call list,” she said firmly, as soon as she answered.

  “Mari?”

  She knew that voice.

  Electricity jolted up through her whole body, and she flinched so hard she stumbled back into a bush.

  The phone jumped out of her hand and she couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see. She’d had this dream a thousand times but she was awake now, Brad’s voice real and terrifyingly familiar even after all this time apart.

  Her cell phone. He’d called on her cell phone. No one back in Wisconsin had her number. After the divorce, she’d changed her number. Hell, changed phone carriers just so he couldn’t find someone who remembered he was her husband and give them some story about needing to be let into her account. She was six states away from the town where they’d once lived together, and there was no way on earth he could have found this number.

  How much time did she have to get away? She couldn’t remember if he’d sounded angry or apologetic. Was he here?

  She dropped to her knees and scrambled to find the phone. Stupid to have dropped it when she needed it to find out exactly how much trouble she was in. She shoved her hands into the dirt, trying to feel if it had gotten buried in the dust somehow, but then spotted it under a buckhorn cholla. Heedlessly, she jammed her hand in among the spiny branches of the cactus and snatched up the phone, but the line was closed. Somewhere in the bouncing on the ground, it must have hung up on him.

  It was stupid, and so careless, to have dropped the phone like one word in that voice was as terrifying as all the monsters in the world. Now she had no idea where Brad was or how much he knew. If he could find the phone number, he could find her. She had to get away from here.

  “Mari, are you okay?”

  She looked up, her eyes wide and heart pounding, but it was just Gideon, frowning down at her with concern. Of course he was worried; she was acting like a crazy person. She rose to her feet, dusting the dirt off her hands and trying to blot away the dots of blood welling up from the cactus spines.

  “Fine,” she gasped. “Dropped my phone.”

  “You’re not fine,” he said. “And you’re bleeding. Let’s get that hand cleaned up.” He took her arm and turned her back toward her truck, but then hesitated. “You’re shaking . . . Mari, who was that on the phone?”

  She closed her eyes, fighting the rising panic that tried to steal her breath. Lying wasn’t an option because she couldn’t stay at work the rest of the day anyway. He might know where she was right this instant.

  “My ex,” she said, the word barely audible between the tiny, gulped breaths that were all she could manage right now. “He found me. I need to get out of here.”

  “The fuck?” Gideon tensed, glancing around them. But outside the busy construction site, nothing moved. The dust on the dirt access road was still, water droplets already dry from where the water truck had passed half an hour ago. “Did he say he was here?” The lineman’s hand rose to the hammer in his tool belt, but Mari shook her head.

  “But he found my number. It was under the same fake—” She broke off, but it was too late to cover. “The same fake name as my motel room,” she said, avoiding his eyes. It was a crime, the ID she’d bought off a guy in a greasy bar outside Las Vegas.

  “Okay, but you can look up phone numbers pretty easy on the internet. Motel records aren’t on the internet, so he might not know where you’re staying. Is he a stalker type?”

  “Worse,” she whispered through bloodless lips.

  “All right,” Gideon said levelly. “Well, I’m a brown belt in aikido, and we kind of specialize in wiping the floor with big-ego’ed, ham-fisted idiots who like to hit girls. But I say we move you out of that motel just in case.”

  Out of the motel, hell. She’d been planning on more like out of the country this time. But no, driving away would only trap her more, because she needed money. Her last check was gone, to the motel for last week’s bill and to the medical bill collection agency to stave off another hike in her penalty rates. The money in her wallet wouldn’t last her until she could get a new job. She’d need to stay until the next check, which was an endless week and a half away. But she couldn’t stay alone, exposed to anything he might do if he found her.

  She could go to Jack. In a fight or not, all she’d have to do is call him and he’d never turn her away, she knew he wouldn’t.

  But no, that would be worse. If Brad found her with a man, there’s no telling how far he’d go, and what if he had a gun?

  Marcus and Lisa’s house, then. Except Brad was so jealous there’s no way he’d believe she and Marcus were only friends. Marcus would be in as much trouble as Jack. More, because he wasn’t as good in a fight.

  Mari hadn’t realized Gideon had started guiding her along until they arrived at her truck. He lowered the tailgate and urged her to sit on it, muscling out her water jug so it sat next to her.

  “We can move you into the Best Western tonight,” he said, turning on the water spigot and letting a gentle stream of water run over her dusty, blood-speckled hand. “Wyatt’s crew takes up most of the third floor, and we’ll get you a room right in the middle.” He smiled at her. “If your ex feels like facing down a whole dirty-brawling lineman crew, he’s welcome to come over anytime.”

  She just blinked at him. Did they really like her so much? Gideon, and the crew? She couldn’t imagine why any of them would put themselves out for someone who’d only known them a few months. All she’d done was move a few snakes, nag them to check their tires. She cleared her throat, blinking back tears and trying for a light tone. “Wow, brownies buy you a lot around here, huh?”

  “Good people aren’t so common that I take them for granted,” Gideon said mildly. He turned off the water and patted her hand dry with one of her dishtowels.

  “It’s not just the motel, though. Brad has construction experience. He could show up and blend in here, maybe even get hired on one of the crews.” She had to swallow several times just to finish, folding her arms so her shaking hands were stuffed out of sight in the crooks of her sweating elbows. She’d forgotten, somehow, what it was like to be afraid. It had been a constant for so many years, but somewhere along the way in her new life, she’d f
allen out of the habit. The fear tasted all the more acrid now for being unfamiliar.

  “Listen, you’re safe here,” Gideon said very gently. “If you’ve got a picture of this guy, we’ll pass it around, make sure everybody knows what breed of asshole to keep an eye out for. I know you think the crew is only nice to you because of Wyatt, but these guys adore you. Even if Wyatt was gone, even if I was . . .” He shook his head. “I’d like to see somebody try to hassle you on this job site.” His light eyes gleamed and a laugh coughed out of her, her vision blurring with sudden tears.

  “Thank you,” she managed in a choked whisper.

  “Not necessary. If you need anything, anything at all . . .” He shrugged. “Just say the word and it’s yours.”

  “Maybe . . .” She bit her lip. “Could you come with me tonight to get my stuff out of the motel, just in case my ex is there? If it’s not too much trouble? Jack and I are . . . not really getting along at the moment.”

  “That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t help you out if he knew somebody was giving you a hard time,” Gideon said. “I know he lacks a little something in the charm department, but I’ve been following him from job to job for a while now. He’s a good man.” He gave her a wry smile. “I’m sure you’ll be surprised to hear it, but there aren’t that many foremen in this business that take kindly to an openly gay lineman. Alabama redneck he might be, but Wyatt doesn’t give two shits about anything but your work ethic. And when it comes to you, well . . . ten bucks says if you move into the Best Western, he picks up his bags and moves right along with you as soon as he gets back.”

  “Oh, I can’t move in there.” If Brad found her near any men, there was no predicting how far he’d go. Not to mention that she couldn’t afford it.

  The lineman didn’t look pleased with this pronouncement. “Do you have someplace else safe that you can go?”

  “I—” She started to lie, and then realized she didn’t have to.

  She could move in with Rajni. With a guy like Brad, her .45 was a better bet than even the most effective set of fists. And if they needed numbers, Rajni’s ex-boyfriend lived right down the street, where he shared a rental with Hotaka.

  Warmth started to seep back into her, like the desert sun had come out from behind a cloud. She had options. Not even just a single person who would help her if she asked, but many. The last time she could have said that was high school, before she married Brad.

  “I do,” she said. “I do have a place to go.” And then, in spite of everything, she managed a small smile, too.

  * * *

  —

  The rest of the day went so slowly she could hardly stand it. Every time a truck went down the access road, she felt like her skin was freezing and then burning, prickling like a sickness until she could see that it wasn’t Brad coming for her. She’d turned off her phone, but now that he had her number, he was probably calling. Calling and calling. He never gave up when he wasn’t getting what he wanted. He’d be angry that she was ignoring him. Whatever clue he had to her whereabouts, he’d be following it. The flowers and apologies would be gone after the third call, maybe the fourth.

  After work, Gideon followed her back to the motel, and as soon as she pulled in, her heart sank at the sight of Jack’s still-empty parking space. The curtain on his room was open, too, so she could see the sterile furniture that was all that was left of the place where they’d spent so much time together. Three days was way too long to just be giving her space to cool off. She doubted Rod would give him more than two days off, this close to the end of the project, so he must have quit.

  The only family he had was the brother who used to take his fists to him. Either the family emergency was a lie to cover how he was taking off on her, or he’d chosen his abuser over her. Neither option was promising.

  That was it, then. She didn’t need to sort out how she felt, whether she should forgive him or even could. He was gone, and that told her everything about how disposable their relationship had been to him.

  She glared at his empty room, her vision blurring a little with angry tears. “I didn’t do what you wanted and so you just took off?” she whispered to her empty truck. “Well, damn you, Jack Wyatt. Damn you to hell.”

  Gideon knocked softly on her window then, and she blinked away tears and made herself get out. Escaping Brad was what mattered now. Survival and keeping herself safe. There was no time to think about what could have been or the way something deep in her felt like it had started to crack as soon as she realized Jack’s absence wasn’t temporary.

  Gideon did a gentlemanly job of pretending not to notice her occasional swipes at watering eyes and quietly helped her move all her clothes into her truck. Waited for her to pay the last couple of days of her motel bill. Flirted with the guy at the cell phone store so he’d change her number and throw in a new phone upgrade.

  In the process of moving her mattress from her truck to the nook they created behind Rajni’s couch, he made pretty good friends with Rajni, too, and they had a great time laughing over beers about old kung fu movies they all loved.

  By the time Rajni closed the door behind him, Mari was almost feeling normal again. Except for the cold space under her ribs that throbbed with Jack’s name. She clearly wasn’t in the right frame of mind to make major life decisions right now, but she missed him. Nothing would have been so comforting as a half hour of a home renovation show on the mussed coverlet of his motel bed. Him mumbling an offer to get her another beer even though he never allowed himself more than a single one.

  If his family emergency was real, what had happened to his brother? Was he being good to Jack?

  “Hey . . .” Rajni’s soft voice interrupted her thoughts, and Mari’s chin jerked up. Her friend smiled. “I’m glad you called.”

  Mari smiled back. “Thanks again for letting me stay.”

  “Please. You know I’m just doing it hoping I get to take a shot at that asshole.” She winked. “I’ve always wanted to bag a trophy douchebag.”

  “Oh, I don’t know that Brad’d make much of a prize, alive or dead,” Mari joked.

  Rajni perched on the arm of the couch, the curve of her hip graceful under her yoga pants. “You know, I don’t know why we never hung out before. I thought we’d become friends on that first job, but you never called to catch up or anything when we moved onto the next one, so I figured I wasn’t really your speed.”

  “Hey, no.” Mari pressed her lips together. “I’m just not so good at—” She stopped and corrected herself. “Brad didn’t much want me to have friends. And after all those years, I felt so rusty and awkward I wasn’t sure anybody would want to be around me.”

  “You hung out with Lisa.” Rajni pretended to pout.

  “That’s because Lisa invited herself over.”

  They both laughed.

  “Yeah, she isn’t exactly shy, is she?” Rajni caught sight of the clock. “I better head for bed. But, Mari?”

  “Hmm?”

  “It’s gonna be okay,” she said softly. “All of this. So don’t worry, okay?”

  Fresh tears prickled Mari’s eyes, and she could only nod.

  Her new friend disappeared into her bedroom, and Mari reached for her cell phone to set her alarm clock. But it vibrated in her hand and a text message from Marcus popped up on her screen.

  Double check - is this your new number, Mari?

  She rolled her eyes and texted back an affirmative. It was so like her fussy boss to be checking her number at eleven o’clock at night. She’d called him and Lisa earlier to fill them in on the situation and the new number, and had barely talked them both out of showing up at Rajni’s place. But the last thing she needed was more worried people to set off her own anxiety. There had been no sign of Brad yet, but she wasn’t sure how long that could last.

  A new text popped up.

  I’m really sorry, know this is
a bad time, but I need you to meet with me a half an hour early tomorrow.

  Mari frowned.

  Sure. Is this about Brad? Did somebody see him around the site?

  The three little dots popped up to show he was typing, then disappeared.

  Then appeared again.

  Then disappeared.

  Her fingertips went cold and started to tingle. Somebody had seen him, hadn’t they? Or worse, what if he had tracked her down and he was at Marcus’s house right now, forcing him to text her and it was a trap to get her to the construction yard when it was dark and deserted and—

  It’s not about Brad. A crushed tortoise was found. I’m sorry, Mari, but it was at your tower site.

  31

  Stored Like Spare Cheese

  Jack did not care for Nebraska.

  Part of the reason was his black eye. He hadn’t had one in years, and he didn’t remember them hurting this bad. Probably he was getting soft in his old age, as his brother had helpfully suggested several times.

  Since it was Leroy’s fault they’d gotten jumped, he’d blacked his brother’s eye, too, just so the dickhead could see how it felt. Wasn’t his finest moment, punching a guy who had one arm in a sling, but Leroy wasn’t exactly on his good side at the moment. If it weren’t for his poor life choices, Jack’s eye wouldn’t be all swelled up. His bike wouldn’t have a bullet hole in it, and they sure as shit wouldn’t be living in a Cheesy Charlie’s pizza warehouse.

  Jack knew how to fix a lot of things on a bike, but not a bullet hole.

  He shifted on the concrete floor, fighting not to itch his head. That was another thing he’d forgotten since leaving Leroy’s trailer and Alabama behind—how itchy his hair got when he couldn’t wash it. This time, it wasn’t an unpaid water bill that was the culprit, though.