by Amber Garza
"I can show you barbaric if that's what you're into."
I giggle, bending down to pick up my sandals. "I'm a little scared to say yes."
"You don't ever have to be scared of me."
I stand up, realizing we're no longer joking. "I know, Colt. I'm not."
"Well, I better let you go. Wouldn't want you to be late."
I sink onto the edge of my bed and slip my feet into my sandals. "I wish I was working with you," I whine.
"I'll show up a little early for my shift so I can see you before you're off."
"Sounds good." I try to sound more chipper than I feel as I hang up. Making my way out of my room and down the stairs, a nagging foreboding hangs over me, like a raincloud. I have a horrible feeling that something bad is going to happen, and I'm powerless to stop it.
TWENTY
COLT
I'm glad when I show up at the coffee shop to find Paige working with Bud, and not Jon. My happiness is short lived, though, when I realize that I'll be working with Jon. Should be a fun night. Not. The whole reason I got this crappy job was to spend time with Paige. If we aren't allowed to work together, then what's the point? I should just quit. But I know I won't, because the truth is that even though I originally got this job for Paige, I really do enjoy having my own money. For the first time in my life I can contribute financially to my family. The other day I brought home a carton of ice cream after work. Zander went nuts for it, and that made me feel pretty damned good.
In fact, I told Zander I'd take him to the store this weekend and buy him some new building blocks. So I can't quit my job. I need to have the money to go shopping with him. Besides, it takes some of the pressure of off Callie too.
Under Bud's watchful gaze, Paige and I can't even kiss goodbye. It kills me to watch her walk off to her car without so much as a peck or hug. My lips practically burn from sheer desire. The minute Bud and Paige are gone, Jon starts barking orders at me like I'm his freaking puppy or something.
"You're still pretty upset that Paige chose me over you, huh?" I say, just a small dig.
Jon narrows his eyes at me. "I could care less about you and Paige. I'm just protecting my dad's business. That's all." He points to the register, at the man standing in front of the counter in a blue collared shirt. "Now get to work. We have customers."
I smirk at him, but do what he tells me. He may be a total asshole, but he's my boss tonight and I have to at least humor him. After serving the customer, Jon tells me to clean the tables. I grab a wet rag, thinking about my first day on the job. As I wipe crumbs off of a slick, round table, I remember Paige's face when I hit her with the towel. The way her eyes sparkled and her lips opened wide. I think was falling for her even then. Even before I knew her, my heart was slowly making its way to her. From the first moment I saw her, I had a feeling she'd be the one to tear down my defenses; that she'd be the one I let in.
"Interesting tattoo." Jon materializes in front of me.
I take a step backward. Then I glance down at my arm. Something about his tone is unnerving.
"You know." He taps his chin with his finger. "I remember Paige saying something about a tattoo the night we were robbed. I think she said the robber had one...actually, now that I think about it, she described one very similar to yours."
My face heats up and my body goes rigid. Swallowing thickly, I pick the rag off the table and hold it in my hand. I glare at Jon, daring him to keep talking.
"When was the first time you came to this shop, Colt? I know it wasn't when you applied for a job, because I feel like I saw you one other time."
I know exactly what he's insinuating, and it makes me sick. I should've known this would happen. He was there that first night I came in. I'm actually surprised he didn't recognize me sooner.
The bell on the door dings, and my head whips in the direction of a lady walking in holding a baby girl in the crook of her arm.
"Saved by the bell," Jon says. "We'll talk later."
Clearing my throat, I take deliberate steps toward the counter. I can hear my heart beating in my ears, and my palms are coated in moisture. Jon isn't like Paige. He won't just take my word for it and let the whole thing go. There's no way I'll be able to convince him I wasn't a part of the robbery if he's convinced that I was. I guess the days of running from my past are over. I have a feeling it's time to face the music.
Much to my relief, Jon and I are too busy to talk again during our shift. It flies by in a flurry of coffees, cash, credit cards and pastries. By the time it's over I've worked up a pretty good sweat, and I'm exhausted. Jon asks me to close out the register and he goes in the back to restock supplies for the morning. I'm surprised that he's trusting me with the money after our cryptic conversation earlier. As I count the money in my palm, I wonder if maybe I misread the whole thing. Perhaps I'm just letting my own paranoia get to me.
He doesn't mention anything again as we lock up. In fact, before heading to his car he turns to me with a smile. "See you tomorrow."
I'm surprised by his sudden change in attitude. "Yeah, okay," I say, staring after him dumbfounded. Is it possible that I imagined the whole thing earlier?
"Hey, you."
I jump at the sound of Paige's voice. When I turn, she throws her arms around my neck and crushes her lips to mine. My body responds to hers without any coaxing. My arms wrap around her waist, our tongues mesh together and a low moan rattles in my throat.
"What are you doing here?" I growl, stealing another kiss on her neck. "Not that I'm complaining."
"I came to give you a ride home."
"I hate that you have to keep carting me around. I need to get my license and a car."
Paige skates her fingers up my arm, her red fingernails mingling with my black ink. It reminds me of Jon's words and causes my insides to clench. "If you did, then you wouldn't need me anymore." She pushes out her lower lip in a pout. I think she's going for sad, but she's achieved damn sexy.
"Believe me, I'll still need you. A car can't do this, right?" I draw her to me, brushing my lips over hers. I feel the tug of my lip ring as it drags across her mouth.
"I hope not. If it does, then I'll have a little competition on my hands."
"You'll win that competition."
"I will?" She raises her brows.
"If the prize is me, you'll win it every time, McAllistor."
TWENTY-ONE
PAIGE
I miss Colt. And I hate working with Bud. Sure, it's awful working with Jon, but I actually prefer it to this. Bud breathes down my neck all the time. I can't do anything without him micro managing me, or instructing me on how to do it better. Even though the kiss with Colt in the back room was seriously hot, I wish we hadn't done it. Then Jon never would've seen us and I'd be here with Colt instead of Bud. However, I'm sure Colt and I would've been caught kissing at some point. It was inevitable. We can hardly keep our hands off of each other.
A slight smile tugs at my lips. Just thinking about Colt's mouth on mine is enough to make me happy. God, what has this guy done to me? I never thought I'd end up being a love sick mushy girl. For months I teased Hadley for acting like this about Tripp. Now I feel kind of bad about it. At the time I had no idea what it felt like to fall for someone. I'm not even embarrassed that I feel like this about him. I don't care if I'm acting silly or stupid. It's worth it to be with him.
Besides, if it weren't for Colt this would be such a dark time for me. He's really helped me get through my mom's diagnosis. Not that Hadley hasn't been amazing, and it truly has been great that Macy's gone this time around. Even so, Colt offers me something no one else can. He can empathize, and he always seems to know just the right thing to say and do.
While I'm cleaning the tables following the morning rush, I hear the bell on the door ring. When I look up, Jon is heading inside with a determined look on his face. Something about it causes alarms to ring out in my head. Bud pokes his head out from the back room.
"Good. You're here. Co
me on back." Bud looks at me. "Can you watch the shop for a few minutes, Paige? Jon and I need to talk in private."
I nod, wondering what the hell is going on. Jon doesn't even look at me as he moves toward his dad. Biting my lip, I wait until they are out of sight. Then I walk slowly, careful not to make any noise, to the counter. I step behind it and tiptoe to the wall. Standing against it, I hold my breath and listen. Unfortunately I can't make out what they're saying, but their voices are urgent, desperate. Frustrated, I'm about to push off the wall when I hear one familiar word. Colt. My mouth goes dry.
Why are they talking about Colt? What are they up to?
Does it have anything to do with me? Surely catching us kissing wasn't that big of a deal. Certainly not one to warrant private meetings.
Pressing my lips together I stay still and try to hone in on them. Again it's impossible to hear their conversation. It's obvious they are speaking softly, which just makes me more suspicious. When I hear something about Officer James and missing money, my heart stops. I'm sure that this isn't about me and Colt kissing now. This is about the robbery.
Oh, no. Could it be that Jon overheard my conversation with Officer James and now he suspects him?
My head spins. I have to set the record straight. I have to make this right. It's all my fault. It's silent. Footsteps sound. I step away from the wall and scramble to the counter. Taking a deep breath, I pretend to be wiping it clean. Jon and Bud both file out of the back room.
"Paige, I need to talk to you a minute."
At Bud's words I break out in a cold sweat. With trembling fingers, I set down the rag. Pushing past Jon I head to the back room. Bud's office is located just to the left of where we hang our aprons. I follow him inside. There's no door to his office, just an open doorway. I find no comfort in this right now, though, knowing that Jon is out there within eavesdropping distance. I know that I had been doing the same thing, but still. Bud sits his tall lanky body down on the chair behind the small desk. A few loose papers litter the top and a computer sits in the corner. Bud sits forward, creating a triangle shape with his fingers.
Unsure of what to do, I just sit across from him and play with a loose thread on my jeans. Maybe it's not what I think. Maybe it's not a big deal at all. Exhaling, I force my gaze upward.
"Paige, I understand that you've been keeping something from me. Something about Colt?"
It feels like I've been punched. I fumble with my hands in my lap. "There's nothing to tell. It was all just a misunderstanding."
"I would hardly call a criminal record a misunderstanding." Bud's expression is hard.
"What?" The room sways around me.
"So you didn't know about Colt's criminal history?"
I shake my head, confused. His words float around me, mocking and taunting me.
"I thought you were dating."
"Um...yeah...kind of, I guess. But he never said anything..." the words trail off, my head fuzzy. "What kind of criminal history?" Maybe it's just a mistake. Maybe it wasn't so bad.
"He was arrested numerous times for petty theft and robbery. He's been to juvenile hall twice."
I can't breathe. I literally can't breathe. Grabbing my throat, I try to make it work. Everything spins around me.
"Paige. Are you okay?"
Choking, I suck in a breath and nod. But the truth is, I'm not okay. Not at all. Why didn't Colt tell me?
"Jon said that he came in the night we were robbed," Bud says.
"Yeah, but he didn't have anything to do with it." I want to defend him still, even though at this point I'm not even sure why. He was so angry with me when he thought I didn't trust him, but he didn't trust me. Not enough to tell me the truth.
"We'll let the police figure that out. But he did take money last night."
"What?" I feel like I'm drowning. Bud's voice sounds so far away and muffled.
"A hundred dollars. It was taken from the register, and he was the one who closed up."
"You're sure?"
Bud nods, a sympathetic look on his face. "I'm sorry about this, Paige. I really am. I liked the kid. But that doesn't change things." He pauses, studying me. "I should have run a background check on him, but I was just so desperate for someone to start. And for some reason I just trusted the kid. He seemed nice. So don't feel bad. He had us all fooled."
I freeze, letting his words sink in. Was that what happened? Did he fool me? Is he not the guy I thought he was? The thought is almost too much to bear. And to think I was starting to fall in love with him.
The bell on the door dings and a familiar voice pierces my heart. I stiffen, bile rising in my throat.
"What's going to happen to him now?" I say when I find my voice.
"Obviously I'm going to have to fire him. And the police want to question him in regards to the robbery. I'm not going to press charges for the hundred. I can write that off."
Jon steps inside. "Colt's here. I'll send him back." When Jon turns around I swear I see the flicker of a smile pass over his lips.
"You can clock out now, Paige."
Unable to speak, I stand up on wobbly legs. With my head down, I slip out of his office and straight into a male's chest. Colt's familiar scent envelops me, and I have to fight back tears.
"Hey, McAllistor." He runs his hands down my arms. Bringing his mouth down to my ear, he whispers, "Don't tell me we're still getting our hands slapped for our little indiscretion in the back room."
I can't even look at him. I want to throw up. Shaking my head, I shove him backward and stalk off. Then I do the one thing I shouldn't. I glance back over my shoulder. When our gazes collide, I see confusion and hurt inside his eyes. More than anything, I want to run to him. To throw my arms around him, to touch him, to kiss him, to tell him it's okay. Convince him that I don't care about his past, that I only care about who he is now. Only I can't do that, because I don't know if it's true. So I turn from Colt and walk out of the shop, leaving him to endure his own fate.
TWENTY-TWO
COLT
I guess I didn't have to wait too long for the other shoe to drop, huh? This day has pretty much been the shittiest one I've had in awhile. It was seriously humiliating to be fired for stealing. Not to mention the fact that Bud has absolutely no proof that I did it. If I took that hundred dollars, then where the hell is it? Because if I have it, then I sure as hell plan to spend it. Too bad, I don't. But what I do have is a criminal record, an arm covered in tattoos, and a face full of piercings. And that's enough to crucify me. It killed me to have to walk out of that shop knowing what they think of me. Knowing I can't go back.
Spending the next two hours being questioned at the police station was no freaking picnic either. But that wasn't the worst part. No, the worst part of this whole shitty day was when Paige walked away from me. I can still feel the sting of rejection, sharp and piercing, when she shoved me. And here I thought we were in this together. I thought for sure we were being reamed out for kissing. In my mind we would take our punishment, laugh about it and then go right back to enjoying the act which we were punished for. Only she pushed me. She freaking pushed me and then walked away. I could've literally fallen over from shock. Wasn't it just last night when she admitted that she would fight someone to be with me?
But it was the look in her eyes that really told me I had been wrong about her from the beginning. There was no loyalty in them, only judgment. It was a look I knew all too well. And it's one I hate. One I don't think I can ever forgive.
So, I've washed my hands of all of them. It's what I get for trusting any of them in the first place. I've had a lifetime of disappointments, of neglect, of lies and manipulation. I know better. Falling for a girl, getting involved with her family, allowing myself to hope for a future with her was stupid. And it won't happen again.
When I finally get to Callie's I bust in and kick off my shoes angrily. They launch from my feet a little harder than I intended and crash into the wall.
"Colt!" Callie rushes
in, worry etching her features. "What happened?"
I want to feel bad for worrying her. But I'm numb. I feel nothing at all, certainly not sympathy. "I got fired."
"Oh, Colt. I'm so sorry."
Her words are meant to be helpful, but they only succeed in upsetting me. I groan, running a hand over my head. "Don't. Just stop. I don't need pity, okay?"
"Why did you get fired?"
"For stealing," I say simply, not bothering to defend myself. I'm sure she'll think the worst too, and I don't care. Let everyone think I did it. It doesn't matter. There was only one person that wanted to believe in me and she was the first one to turn her back.
"Colt? Why would you do that?"
"Because that's who I am, Callie. Don't you know that? I'm a criminal. I'm a loser. I'm just like them!" The darkness is back, blanketing me, weaving around my heart. It should scare me, but it's comforting in its familiarity.
Callie backs away from me, trembling. Bristol cries from the back room. A tiny blur from the corner of my eye catches my attention. I look over to see Zander crying in the corner. Oh, shit. Shame burns through me.
"I just...I just can't do this. I'm sorry." I grab my shoes and leather jacket and race outside.
"Colt!" Callie calls from the doorway as I run down the street, shoes and jacket in hand, my sock clad feet slapping on the pavement. "Please come back."
But I can't. I can't bear to look at the disappointment in their eyes. I can't listen to their cries or accusations. As I get further down the street, it dawns on me that I'm doing exactly what I always said I wouldn't do. I'm turning into my parents. How's that for irony? I guess it's a good thing I never made any promises.
When my socks are torn and blood coats the bottom of my feet, I finally stop. My fingers are covered in blisters from holding onto my shoes so tightly. The sun is going down, but it's still hotter than hell out here. If I thought I got funny looks before, I was wrong. Today was the worst. I'm sure I look like a deranged lunatic running down the street in his socks, holding his shoes in his hand. As I sit on the curb in front of some nice two-story home putting on my shoes, I start laughing hysterically. A young woman walking her dog looks over at me warily. She probably thinks I'm a drug addict or something.
