Breaking Even (The Sterling Shore Series #5)

by C. M. Owens

  “How the hell could he have pawned it without taking it in for them to appraise the value?”

  It’s sure as hell worth more than a grand now that I’ve added all that shit to it.

  “She was missing her spare keys when she moved out. More than likely he had them. All he’d have to do is borrow it from the museum parking lot for long enough to get the appraisal done, and he knows her work hours.”

  What a fucking asshole.

  I climb back onto my bike, and strap up my helmet as Maggie calls the jerk a string of unsavory names.

  “Where does her ex live?” I ask, already turning on my bike as she gives me the address. It’s not too far from here.

  “Don’t kill him,” she says loudly, trying to reach my ears over the roar of the engine.

  I pretend as though I don’t hear her, because I’m not making any promises.

  ***

  RYE

  As soon as the door opens, my fist is connecting with the prick’s face and he’s falling backwards, yelping in surprise as blood spurts from his nose.

  He’s not really what I expected. Brin needs a real man, and this weasel is curled up and crying. How did she live with him that long?

  “Which pawn shop?” I growl, glaring at him.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” he gasps, trying to crawl away from me when I near him.

  “Where’d you pawn Brin’s title?”

  I raise my fist up, but he throws both hands up while turning his face away. “Shit! She knows which one it is. It’s the one on Belker Street. Fuck!”

  “What else do you owe? Is she paying off any more of your fucking debts?” I snap.

  “Just my credit cards. They’re in her name though. Her name, her problem.”

  I’d love to throttle this weasel all day long. But Brin needs her car. He’s fucking lucky she needs her car.

  I step back as he warily stands, and I make my way toward the door. But it just seems too easy.

  “Ah, fuck it,” I mutter before turning around and punching him one more time. As he falls to the ground, tears pouring from his eyes, I smirk. “Fuck with her ever again, and I’ll make sure it hurts a lot worse next time.”

  With that, I turn around and head toward Belker Street.

  Chapter 18

  BRIN

  “Sick!” Maggie screams, spewing her coffee everywhere. “When the hell did he do that?”

  I shouldn’t be grinning because Rye exchanged the sugar with salt.

  “I don’t know, but there’s baby oil in the soap dispensers. And I found a rubber snake in my panty drawer. Also, there’s a present in the living room that I’m scared to unwrap. He left it at the front door.”

  I stare at the pretty disguise the present is wearing. Maggie tilts her head with me, and we both gaze curiously at the innocuous looking gift.

  He’s not letting me go. He’s fighting. Maybe this is close enough? I’m sick of waiting on him to really let me in, but am I strong enough to let him keep me just close enough?

  Maggie curses her cup of coffee as she drops to the couch. “Would it be too cliché to go borrow some sugar from one of the neighbors?”

  I laugh lightly, but my eyes don’t move from the present. There’s no telling what masterminded prank lies beneath the red wrapping paper.

  “What do you think it is?” she asks, both of us eyeing it very cautiously.

  “A wicked jack in the box. A food bomb of some sort. Or maybe a dead rodent,” I say with a shrug.

  “Why are you grinning?” she asks, smiling just like me.

  I lean back and look through the large window at the house across the street.

  “Because he still hasn’t given up. Now he’s trying to get me to come to him. He hasn’t bothered me since the other day.”

  His bike rolls up in his yard, and a myriad of feelings wash through my stomach. But I frown when I see it’s Ethan stepping off. Why is Ethan driving Rye’s motorcycle?

  Then I see my Camry pulling up to my side of the curb, and I’m almost positive my heart leaps into my throat. He didn’t. He couldn’t have.

  “I guess he beat it out of John,” Maggie says with a grin I can feel.

  I turn to her, and sure enough, her smile is broadly pasted onto her face. “John? He went to see John?” I ask, feeling sicker by the second.

  John is dead. Rye is going to need an alibi.

  “He asked what happened to your car. I told him. He found the pawn shop somehow—meaning he had to have gotten it out of John. And here he comes.”

  Shit. I’m crying. Again. I hate crying, but this confusing bastard does so many crazy things to my heart.

  I open the door before he reaches the top of the porch, and I’m in his arms before he can even tell me what he’s done. He smiles as he hugs me and kisses me on the head, but then he puts distance between us as he backs up.

  “You’re not mad,” he says in relief, his whole body visibly relaxing.

  How can I get mad?

  “You didn’t have to do this,” I whisper, scared of speaking in any other tone.

  He stares at me for a moment, and his eyes change. They look different than I’ve ever seen them before. Then he clears his throat and nods toward the car.

  “If you have any more problems, let me know. Don’t ever deal with your ex directly again.”

  That’s... worrisome. John really might be dead.

  “What did you do?” I ask while following him, trying to keep up with his long strides.

  I only get a glimpse of his smirk before it vanishes.

  “Handled it.”

  I glance down to his knuckles, but they show no proof of problems.

  “He’ll sue you if you hurt him. He’s a money-hungry son of a bitch.”

  He laughs as he slows down and tosses his arm around my shoulders. My heart does that freaky fluttering thing as he guides me toward my car.

  “If some psycho charges into your home and punches you, then you might call the cops. But not if you’ve forged your ex-wife’s name on a title transfer. Not to mention, someone once told me that the tattoos make me look like a bad boy,” he says while winking.

  Heart is still fluttering.

  “How did you know—”

  “Pawn shop guy told me everything. He’s a regular at my garage.” He pauses as we near my car. “I took it by the garage and had Wrench check it out. Looks like everything is still working good, but if it acts up, call me. I’ll come get it and take it back.”

  If it wouldn’t be completely crazy, I’d kiss him right now. If he didn’t love me, he wouldn’t do this.

  But he doesn’t try to do anything or even hint at anything. I miss him. I miss him so damn much.

  ***

  RYE

  Staring up at my dad’s house for the third time this week is a little disconcerting, but I think I’m finally ready to see him.

  Dad opens the door and steps out, surprising me. He never comes outside very often. He rarely goes anywhere at all anymore. Not since Mom died. He even dates online before marrying his gold diggers.

  “You want to talk to me?” he asks, coming closer. He stops when he reaches the gazebo outside, and he takes a seat on the swing. “Or are you just going to keep coming by and staring up at the old house?”

  With a burdened breath, I go to join him. For a long time, we both just sit here, staring into space. I finally break the silence.

  “Did you go to see Brin?”

  “Yes,” he says without hesitation. “And you did good. That girl loves you. You know it’s the good love when you can see it in their eyes. All I had to do was introduce myself and the girl nearly fainted.”

  I wish that didn’t make me smile. I love and hate the fact that she loves me.

  “Did she tell you?” he asks, looking off into the distance.

  “No. Ethan mentioned it. Apparently he saw you leaving the museum. He was going to talk to her that day, though he wouldn’t tell me why.”
/>   He also didn’t stay after he saw my father leaving. That’s bugging me.

  Dad just grins for a moment before covering it with a serious face. “Probably for the same reason I went.” Before I can ask questions, he adds, “She’s why you’re here.” And it’s not a question.

  “Part of the reason,” I murmur, sitting back just as he does.

  The swing rocks us back and forth, and several more long moments of silence pass between us.

  “I punish myself, too,” he says, leaning his head back. I don’t have to ask him what he means, but he elaborates anyway. “I marry women who hate me, because I’m scared of having a woman who loves me. But it’s so empty when I look at them, that I have it annulled right away. Usually. Or I never marry them and just let them live here until I can’t stand it anymore. But the house is always so empty without anyone here.”

  More silence. There’s nothing I want to say about that, because we’ll end up arguing.

  “You love her, don’t you?” he asks earnestly.

  I love her so much that I’m miserable without her. But it doesn’t change anything, does it?

  Since I’m not ready to share that, I keep it to myself and stare at my motorcycle. All I can think about is Brin on the back of it, squeezing her thighs against me while she laughs excitedly.

  “I’m worried about what will happen when I fuck up. Most people haven’t seen love the way I have. I guess that goes for you, too.”

  He nods slowly, his eyes trained on an imaginary spot on the ground. “It tends to fuck someone up.” I almost smile when he says that. Almost.

  It feels weird to sit here and have a conversation, but for the first time since I was ten, I don’t feel angry. Not at him. Not at anything. I’m just... well, I have every emotion except for anger right now. It’s different... Refreshing now that the loss of my anger is not so scary.

  “I’ve already fucked with her head. I didn’t even mean to. I kept saying everything I needed to at some points, but sometimes I’d say things that I didn’t mean to. I kept giving her hope with those few slip-ups, and I kept contradicting myself with my actions. With her, all the lines were blurred and I trampled all over my own rules. And then I stomped all over her heart in the process. I’m just as confused as she is, and it’s all my fault. She was never anything but perfect to me.”

  His lip quivers, but he steadies it quickly. “That’s the really good stuff. When you can’t force yourself to detach from someone, you’ve got something rare. You become consumed in the most maddening way, but it’s the best damn feeling there is out there.”

  I look at him, feeling hope slip away. “So you had that with Mom but lost it?”

  He frowns as he looks down. “I had it with her, but she didn’t have it with me. She loved me, but she didn’t love me like that. Even before she got sick, she never loved me like I loved her. But I took what I could get because I knew what I felt for her was rare. It’s even rarer if you find someone who feels that way about you. It’s a beautiful thing that slips through your fingers if you aren’t paying attention. And believe me when I say it’s hard to ever find again.”

  I lean over and prop my elbows on my knees as I try to absorb his words. This is the first time I’ve ever been able to speak about my mother without feeling knots packed with anger. But my body is relaxed and that odd new peace is still coursing through me.

  “Brin felt the same way. I don’t know if she still does, but she felt it. And she had to hold it back because she was worried about pushing me away. She kept giving, and I did nothing in return. I filled her full of angst and constant confusion. As shitty as it feels for me, maybe I did her a favor.”

  He frowns as he looks over at me, but then he turns his face back straight. “If she felt that way about you, then I doubt you’re doing her any favors by pushing her away. Because I can assure you a feeling like that doesn’t disappear very quickly. She still feels that way about you. Probably always will. If you give it up, you’ll chase that feeling for the rest of your life, but it’s really unlikely that you’ll ever find it again.”

  Drama. I’ve tried to avoid it for so long, but right now, it’s in my every path, no matter which direction I go.

  “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “No one ever is. And you get there with someone; you don’t get there by yourself. If you’re waiting until you’re ready, you’ll die waiting.”

  I actually let that sink in, fully digesting that thought.

  “What should I do?” I ask quietly when it all seems overwhelming.

  His lip quivers again, and he’s forced to wipe a tear away from his cheek while clearing his throat. This is the first time I’ve ever asked for his advice.

  “I think you know what to do, and I pray you make the right decision. I’ve always held out hope for you. You’re on the right path to recovery. Finally. I just hope you don’t wait too long. Life’s too short. Misery is eternal if you allow it to be.”

  Life is too short. It’s a cliché line that almost everyone uses. I’ve heard it all my life, yet it’s never struck a nerve until this moment.

  Misery. Not anger. No anger at all. Just misery. Painful, heart-wrenching, soul-stealing misery.

  “When’s the last time you saw the girl?” he asks, turning his head to look at me.

  “Four days ago,” I mutter shamefully.

  I had a chance to try and get her back, and I know she would have caved after I brought her car home. But I didn’t want to use that against her. After meeting her sorry excuse for an ex, I don’t blame her for expecting more. She deserves it. I’ve always known that she deserves more, but I never thought I’d be able to give it to her.

  But the smile she gave me when I showed up with her car... I wish I could see her smile like that every day. I doubt she knows about the fact her credit card debt is paid off. And I don’t want her to know. Yet.

  She might kick my ass over that one.

  “You’re smiling,” Dad says, and I turn to see the tears in his eyes as his own smile forms.

  My grin only grows as I think about Brin’s temper, her feisty attitude, and her smile that is only reserved me. No one else sees that smile. They only get the generic smile that she gives everyone. She has a special one for me.

  The misery ebbs with every good thought. She’s the misery. It’s all her. Not this. Not my dad. Not my mom. Not my guilt. It’s Brin that’s making me feel this shitty. She stole the place of my anger and replaced it with her own miserable trap. Ah, hell.

  “I need to go. I’ve got something that needs to be done,” I tell him, and he nods knowingly as I stand.

  The first thing I need to do is make a phone call, but as I look at my phone, fucking Hillary Barns’s name is flashing across my screen. Shit. I forgot I’m supposed to be having lunch with her to discuss Tag’s party since Ash hates the woman.

  I’ll make my call after I make up some bullshit reason for being late.

  ***

  BRIN

  I pick up my phone the second I see Ash’s name. If she’s calling to set me up on a date, I’m going to hang myself.

  “Do not mention a date,” I grumble by way of answering, and she huffs.

  “I’m calling about Tag’s party Saturday. You’re still coming, aren’t you?”

  This does not fit in with my plan to avoid Rye. Since he brought my car home, he seems to be avoiding me. If he’s avoiding me, then I need to avoid him.

  I think.

  Maybe.

  Ah, hell. I don’t know what’s going on anymore. Up means down, stop means go, front means back... Everything is so confusing around him. Now not even my own head makes sense anymore.

  He’s stolen my sanity. Yep. It’s gone.

  “No. Not this time. Sorry, Ash. I’ll try to make the next party.”

  I can actually hear her pouting from the other side of the phone as I cross the street to go to the drycleaners.

  “I have
a date for you. It’s not going to be awkward. I can promise Rye will be on his best behavior if you’re worried about seeing him.”

  “No,” I groan. Relentless matchmaker. Terrible, terrible matchmaker.

  When I finally reach the other side of the street, my eyes lift up, and my heart sinks to my toes, cementing me to my spot on the sidewalk. Rye is about fifty feet away, and he’s not alone.

  On the patio of a restaurant, he’s smiling and eating with a woman. And she’s leaning over, touching his arm, and biting on her lip very suggestively.

  Sick. I’m so, so, sick.

  I knew it would happen eventually, but I really didn’t expect it to happen just now. This soon. Four days ago he went and punched my ex on his way to get my car. Now he’s here. With her. A woman more suited for him than I ever was.

  “Brin? You still there?” Ash prompts as I stare mindlessly at Rye.

  He moves his arm from her grasp only to grab a bite of the dessert in front of him. He stands and moves toward a waiter, and I just watch. I watch as he talks to the guy and grabs the check. I watch as he hands him cash. And I watch as he returns to say something to the woman who stands.

  I don’t watch him touch her, because I turn away from the sight and move toward my car again, abandoning my mission to collect my dry-cleaning.

  “Brin?” Ash prompts again.

  “Go ahead and set me up,” I murmur softly, holding back the onslaught of tears that are beating against the backs of my eyes.

  “O...kay. Um... Great. I’ll see you in two days.”

  I don’t say anything as I make it back to my car, and I hang up the phone. Once I drop to the seat, I put my head on the steering wheel, and I listen to the roar of a familiar engine. I look up just in time to meet his eyes, and he brings the bike to an abrupt halt.

  Once upon a time I was a plain girl in an unimpressive car that no one ever noticed. But this man sees me even when I try to hide.

  He pulls into the spot behind me, and I contemplate gassing my car and speeding down the street. But there are too many crosswalks, so a speedy getaway wouldn’t work out.