Waiting for Tuesday: Suspicious Hearts Book Two

by Taylor Sullivan

  I shook my head and thought about my puffy face. The face he’d been gentlemanly enough to pretend he hadn’t seen.

  I snatched random soaps from the floor and began organizing them inside a box. Luckily, in my frantic search for lip balm, nothing was permanently damaged. Just disorganized in a way that took me four hours to sift through. Just enough time for Becky to miss the whole ordeal. She strolled into the back room late that morning, her hair in long braids, and she placed a brown grocery bag of food on the counter. “So what’s on the agenda for today?”

  “More orders, what else?” I said, resting my hip against the counter.

  She frowned. “You look like shit, Day. How long were you here last night?” She nodded to the shelving unit and lifted a brow. “I guess you never found slot X?”

  I laughed—a real laugh that felt good after my long night—and I smoothed my hair away from my face. “No, I exchanged it this morning. I’ll work on it again later, once I get the rest of my orders shipped.”

  She nodded and began pulling containers of food out of the bag. She threw a tub of seaweed salad onto the counter and made a face. “Here, it looked disgusting, so I knew you’d love it.”

  I rolled my eyes and snatched the fork from her hand. “You’d be right. Because it’s delicious, you should try it. You may live longer.”

  She shook her head. “Nah. My goal in life is to die at sixty-nine.”

  She raised her brows, and I hit her on the shoulder with a napkin.

  “You’re such a perv.”

  Chapter ELEVEN

  John

  I flicked the switch on the air compressor, causing the room to fall into silence, and I looked over to the door leading to the back room. She was late again.

  Eddie raised his eyebrows from a few feet away, silently asking me what we wanted to do, and I gave him the sign to cut it. I wouldn’t make him stick around another night, and I wasn’t going to either. Not when she dropped boxes at my feet and didn’t even thank me for hauling her stuff to the back room.

  I had my own shit to deal with.

  I tossed the nail gun to the corner of the room and unfastened my tool belt. Tonight was the first get-together since Katie got out of the hospital, and everyone was already waiting on me.

  I gripped the back of my neck and closed my eyes. A happy as I was that Jake and Katie were finding their new normal after the scare, I’d rather go home. I hadn’t opened the letter, but I held it in my hands all night, unable to muster enough guts to burn it. I hated the fact that his name affected me so much. Hated that even now, as a grown man, it still gave me nightmares.

  My keys were on the edge of the counter, and I snatched them up before heading to the back room. I nodded to Eddie to go ahead and pack up then pushed myself through the plastic divider to let Tuesday know we were taking off.

  I stopped when I saw her laughing. She was sitting on the floor with that girl who’d been helping her all week, and I leaned against the doorframe to watch them, my feet crossed in front of me. Tuesday’s smile was beautiful—wide and honest. It brightened the whole room and warmth spread through my chest. It was good to see her smile, and for some reason, I longed for more of it.

  She doubled over, gripping her stomach with more laughter, and started to wheeze. “Oh my God! You didn’t!” Her words were coming on gasps of air between each giggle. I shook my head in amusement.

  The scene reminded me of one of my sisters’ slumber parties when I was young. And just like all those days, I knew if I stuck around too long, I’d be caught.

  I pushed myself from the wall and cleared my throat.

  Tuesday turned to face me and instantly sobered. Her eyes locked on my chest, and she pushed her friend’s leg to get her attention.

  Her reaction bothered me. I wanted her to look at me like the night we met. Before I screwed everything up. “I just wanted to let you know we’re packing up.” I threw my chin toward the product floor. “Eddie’s already gone.”

  Her friend smiled at me and Tuesday nodded, but they both remained silent. I gripped the back of my neck and nodded to the other room. “I’ll lock the door behind me.”

  Again, they both remained silent, and I eventually turned around to leave. The sound of Tuesday’s laughter hit the minute I stepped foot on the product floor.

  “Oh my God, he’s SO hot!” the brunette shouted.

  “Shhh…” Tuesday whisper yelled, and I shook my head as I walked across the room to gather my stuff, unable to stop myself from chuckling.

  I still didn’t know how I felt about leaving. There were always vagrants hanging around the alley at night, mostly just looking for a safe place to huddle down for the evening, but it still worried me. The fact she had her friend with her eased that a bit.

  I climbed into my F150 a moment later, noticing Tuesday’s old truck parked by the trash cans. Her friend’s brand new sports car parked right beside it. They were a mismatched pair if I ever did see one. But it was obvious they loved each other.

  The gang was on the back deck when I got there. Jake stood at the grill, Katie and Em sat in front of the fire, and the smell of smoke filtered through the night air. I tilted my head up and inhaled. I hadn’t been sure if I wanted to be here tonight, but now that I was, it felt good to be around friends.

  Em waved before pushing herself from her seat and coming toward me. The sway in her step indicated she’d already had too much to drink. I tilted my head and looked at Katie. This wasn’t the norm for Em. She could drink like a sailor and still hold her ground. She must have had a lot.

  Katie shrugged at my silent question, obviously having taken notice of Em’s condition. Truth be told, I was surprised to see Katie out and about, and that Jake looked so relaxed beside her.

  Em came toward me, throwing her arms around my neck as she exhaled. “I missed you,” she whispered. Her words were soft but filled with a heaviness that wasn’t like her.

  My brow furrowed, and I gave her a tight squeeze. “Back at you, kid.”

  She leaned back to smile at me, but her walls were still up, and I raised my eyebrows, silently asking her what was going on. Her eyes glassed over, and I realized maybe she was drunker than I initially thought. She moved away, staggering a little as she pushed her hands through her short messy hair.

  “Woah! How much have you had?” I asked.

  She shrugged indifferently and looked over at Katie. “I’m drinking for two.”

  Katie gave a slight shake of her head, and Em continued to the back door where she walked back into the kitchen.

  “She okay?” I asked, coming to stand beside Jake at the grill.

  Katie gently rose to her feet, waving off Jake as he eyed her cautiously. “It’s been a slow progression. She got here around four and has been drinking ever since. I’m a bit worried.”

  Jake’s jaw tightened, obviously concerned with what had been going on. “Something’s up with her tonight, but she hasn’t said anything.”

  Katie’s hand came to rest on her belly, and she looked toward the kitchen. “Do you think something’s happened?”

  I looked back over my shoulder. “I don’t know.” I grabbed a beer from the bucket of ice and cracked it open before going into the house to find Em.

  She sat slumped over on the couch, her legs spread wide, and her head resting in her hands.

  I took the chair at her side and pulled it over so I was sitting right in front of her. “You okay?”

  She shook her head but didn’t look up. “I’m drunk.” Then her shoulders began to shake with laughter. “Drunk as a skunk.”

  I lifted her chin with one finger and stared at her, not stopping until she looked me in the eye. “Are you okay?”

  Her eyes met mine as if it was difficult for her to focus, and her lips began to quiver. She shook her head again. “No.”

  Em was normally confident, strong, and I’d never actually seen her cry before; it broke my heart. I hugged her to my chest, causing her drunken body
to sag against me.

  “It’s those damned demons.” Her voice was sloppy, raw, but the words so real.

  I nodded, knowing all too well what she was talking about. We both had them, Em and I. Demons that were buried deep, embedded in our bones. “You want to talk about it?” I squeezed her tighter, wanting to protect the girl who was like my first sister.

  “No.” She buried her face into my chest and sniffed.

  “Are you sure?”

  She pushed against my chest and looked me in the eye once more. “Will you just take me home? I don’t want to be here tonight.”

  Her eyes were barely open, and I pushed my fingers through her short hair, wondering what had rocked her so hard she’d let herself go like this. “Of course.”

  It was just after nine when I locked her apartment door and pulled it shut behind me. Rain poured from the eaves of the building, and I rushed toward the stairs, taking them two at a time on my way to the parking lot.

  Seeing Em like that brought back memories. Things I spent a lifetime trying to forget. Things I wished I could shield her from ever thinking of again.

  Memories of Em and I huddled under the kitchen table at the Clarks’ home flashed through my mind. She’d only been three years older than me, an eight-year-old girl, but her arms squeezed me tighter than anyone had in my whole life. Seeing her like this—broken, hollow—shook me.

  I hopped into my truck as rain pinged on the ceiling of the cab. The sound stirred memories of Mrs. Clark’s heels clicking on the hard ceramic tile; the sounds as clear in my mind now as they were twenty some years earlier. She was the woman who was supposed to provide us a stable home, but Em and I were huddled under a damned table, hoping it would offer protection. We only spent three months together in that house, three months of never being able to please the family who should have loved us—but Em had become my sister.

  I flicked on my headlights and turned out of the lot. Visions of being pulled out of Em’s arms entered my mind. Her screams, my tears… I didn’t want to leave her. She was all I had…

  I forced out an emotional breath and rubbed my eyes. I needed a drink. To settle my mind before the memories took over. I turned my truck down Parker Road, intending to stop by Donovan’s for a pint, but as I passed the parking lot of the shop, Tuesday’s truck was still parked by the dumpsters, only now it sat all alone.

  “Shit!” I shook my head and kept on going. She wasn’t my problem. I had too much shit to deal with to worry about a girl who obviously wasn’t worried about herself.

  But I only made it a half a mile before my conscience took over, and my hands flipped a U-turn of their own accord. Five minutes. That’s it. I’d check on her, tell her she was crazy for being in the building alone, and then I’d leave.

  Chapter TWELVE

  Tuesday

  The rain was coming hard and fast as I stood in the middle of the shop. Row after row of pieces were laid out on the floor in front of me like a puzzle, all alphabetized, just as I’d done before. And just like last time, slot X was missing. I grabbed the box and held it upside down, shaking it a few times, praying that somewhere, slot X was hidden inside. Nothing. It was empty. Completely empty.

  I lifted my glasses and rubbed my eyes. Hard. This wasn’t happening. This really wasn’t happening. I could feel the blood boiling under the surface of my skin, and I took a calming breath. You can go back to the warehouse in the morning, get a totally different unit. Or better yet, try to find something already assembled. The pressure of the last few days was crushing me. I needed sleep, I needed a vacation, a day at the beach with a mojito in my hand. But… the shop hadn’t even opened yet.

  Then I heard a loud ping from behind me, echoing through the silence of the empty back room. It was a sound I’d heard a few other times in my life, but one that was never welcomed. I turned around, just in time to hear it again. The sound of water—dripping. Another drop of rain hit the metal counter in the middle of the room, and I closed my eyes. This was a nightmare. There was no way I could handle this. I was out of money, running out of product, and out of time. I could handle going to the warehouse in the morning. I could handle losing another day of work, but a leak in the roof was something I just couldn’t take.

  Then it came again, the sound barely audible, but one that caused every cell in my body to explode. I picked up a piece of shelving from the floor and slammed it as hard as I could against the counter. I let out a cry, the impact so heavy it caused my palms to ache—but the shelf remained perfectly intact. I wanted to scream. I needed it broken. I needed something to take the pressure from my life. Tears fell to my cheeks, and my whole body began to shake. I lifted the shelf over my head and slammed it down again. Harder. Then again, and again, and—and someone grabbed me from behind and hauled me against their chest.

  “Shhh… It’s okay, you’re okay.”

  John wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me backward, holding my shaking body firm against his. I lowered my arms, letting the solid board fall in one piece to the ground. Defeated.

  “You’re okay. Shhh…”

  I wrapped my arms around my waist, trying to hide that part of me away. To shield the evidence of my pain. This was all I ever wanted, the thing I’d been dreaming of since I was eight years old. To own something that was mine. But every day I could feel it slipping, and I didn’t have it in me to hold on any longer. My body sagged, and he held me closer, harder, causing the vibrations in my limbs to sink into his.

  I didn’t know why he was doing this. Or even why he was here. But most of all, I didn’t know why I was letting him. Things would be awkward in the morning, I knew that, but for some reason, I couldn’t pull away. I was weak and he was strong. I needed strength. I didn’t even care at what cost.

  “You’re okay.”

  I shook my head, feeling another tear slip into the corner of my mouth. “How do you know?” My voice was broken, hoarse. “Everything is falling apart.”

  I pushed myself away, turning around so I could face him. The heaviness I saw in his eyes was not what I expected. My chin began to quiver, and I hugged myself with both arms. “Everything is falling apart.” I was repeating myself, but I needed to say it; I needed to yell it, but I didn’t.

  He looked to the row of pieces on the ground, still organized in alphabetical order.

  An ache of frustration rose in my chest and let out a sob. “Except that.” Tears rolled down my face. Fat tears of exhaustion and stress. But of relief too—relief from finally sharing my burden with someone else.

  He stepped closer, brushing a thumb across my cheek. “You look tired. You should go home and get some sleep.”

  I laughed, but the sound was hollow. “How do you know? How do you know what I need? You hardly know me.”

  His face remained serious, and he looked into my eyes. “Because I see you.”

  I held my breath, his words stilling me. I didn’t know if it was the gentle way he said it, or something else, but it made my heart constrict in my chest.

  “Go home and get some sleep.”

  I glanced at him and gestured to the roof, where water still dripped periodically onto the metal counter. “I can’t.”

  He didn’t seem to listen and turned me around to face the exit. “I’ve got it. Go get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  He gave me another shove in the direction of the plastic divider, but this time I didn’t resist. I didn’t even stop by my office to grab my bag. I went to the car, somehow feeling lighter than I had in days. I wasn’t alone in this. John was there to help me.

  I wasn’t alone.

  Chapter THIRTEEN

  Tuesday

  It was still drizzling when I got to work the next day, though I didn’t feel better. I felt worse. My throat was sore, and my whole body ached. I’d worked myself to breaking point and was finally sick.

  I rested my head on the steering wheel, trying to convince myself to go inside. I was thankful for John last
night, but now warmth flooded my cheeks at the thought of facing him again. He’d seen the part of me I hid from even my best friend, and now I had to go in there and pretend he hadn’t witnessed me having a nervous breakdown in the back room.

  The door to my truck creaked open, resisting movement as much as my limbs. I hopped down from the cab, and moisture instantly seeped through my lambskin boots. I looked down to my feet and the deep puddle I now stood in. Fantastic. Fan-fucking-tastic.

  Ignoring the squish in my step, I rushed toward the shop. Somehow feeling naked even though I wore my thickest sweats, the ones I wore during that time of the month when I wanted to hide from the world. Which was exactly what I wanted today. I wanted to stay home, read a romance novel, maybe make a batch of homemade bone broth to warm the chill that had invaded my bones. But a day off was a luxury I couldn't afford. At least not for another month or two.

  To my relief, when I pulled open the door, the shop was empty. Metal buckets filled with water were littered across the floor, and the sound of hammers on the tile roof echoed through the barren room. I looked up at the ceiling, wondering how many men were up there working. My chest tightened with anxiety as dollar signs flashed through my thoughts. I had no idea what a new roof would cost, but whatever it was, I couldn’t afford it. I couldn’t afford anything extra at the moment.

  I blew out a breath and pushed through the plastic sheet to the back room. I needed to take off my boots. I needed to find money I didn’t have. Even if it killed me.