Huge Working Hero (Hard Working Hero Book 3)

by Penny Wylder

  “Can't you tell? I lost control.”

  “Do you hurt anywhere?”

  “No, I'm okay. My head hurts a little, but I'm fine. That roll cage you put in works like a charm.” He tries to smile, but it doesn't last. I can see the worry on his face. He knows he's in shit knee-deep.

  “Yeah, that's the point of it. I'm just glad you're okay.”

  “Give me your head,” Kelsie snaps as she drops back down with the small first aid kit. She takes his chin in her hand and lifts his face. “Hold still, this might sting.”

  Seth hisses and squints his eyes as she wipes the blood away with an alcohol pad. “Ahh, Kel! Shit that stings.”

  “I warned you. It's just a small cut, but since it's on your eyebrow, it's bleeding pretty good.” She smears some antibiotic ointment on the wound and uses a butterfly bandage to seal it shut. “Dad's going to fucking kill you. What the hell were you thinking, Seth?”

  “I was thinking no one was around and the keys were in the car. I was only going to go for a little ride. I didn't mean to crash it.”

  “Yeah, well, you did fucking crash it.” Kelsie closes the kit and stands up. “Get up, let’s go.”

  “Hold on, Kelsie, we need to call a tow truck and get this out of here.”

  I take out my phone and call for a tow. The two siblings banter back and forth. She's angry with him, then she's crying about how scared she is, then she's mad again.

  “I'm fine, Kel, stop treating me like I'm a little kid or something.”

  “Then stop acting like one. I mean, what the hell, Seth? You did something really, really stupid. Do even understand that you could have fucking killed yourself?”

  “It's not my fault, Kelsie! The road was wet or something.”

  “Wet. . .” she says, looking down and running her foot back and forth across the street. “Uh, looks pretty dry if you ask me.”

  “No one asked you,” he snaps. “And what the hell do you know anyway? It's not like you'd have any idea how to handle a car like that.”

  Kelsie scoffs, her mouth dropping open as she's about to give him hell, when the tow truck shows up.

  She tells him to bring it back to the car show. Her eyes jerk to her brother as she says, “Let dad see what you've done.”

  Seth growls, his fists balling at his sides. “Yeah, well what do you think he's going to say when he finds out about you and Brand? You think he's going to give two shits about this car?”

  My ears perk and my eyes widen. “What?”

  “That's right. I know all about you two. I saw you leaving my sister's room last night. The deal was I won't say anything about you guys, if she doesn't say anything about me taking the car. So, now the deals off.”

  “You can't do that,” she barks. “It's not my fault you're a shitty driver.”

  “And it's not my fault you screwed around with some dirty mechanic. Let dad decide which one of us he's going to kill. I can guarantee it won't be me.”

  My insides start to fill with rage. Who the hell does this little shit think he is?

  This son of a bitch has the audacity to trash me right here as if I'm either too stupid to understand what he's saying or ignorant to the fact that I can't hold a candle to the flame that is his family.

  I know I'm not some rich uppity prick who owns multiple homes and can wipe my ass with hundred-dollar bills. I know that in reality there's nothing I can offer her that she doesn't already have. What Seth doesn't know is that it doesn't matter if you’re rich or poor, an ass kicking can come from any direction, and I'm happy to give him one.

  He's just a kid. I remind myself that he's still so young. He probably doesn't even understand what he's saying, he's just regurgitating the shit he's heard over the years from the adults around him. It's not his fault entirely.

  A part of me actually feels bad for him. He's being raised to see things through the value of the dollar and not the value of what they can mean in your life. Life isn't about how much stuff you have. It's not about the zeros in your bank account. Life isn't about your status or where you buy your clothes.

  Life is about surrounding yourself with what makes you happy and being there for others when they need you. Because in the end, it's how you live your life that defines you, not the possessions you have.

  I grab Seth by the arm, gritting my teeth and biting my tongue as I drag him to the SUV. He tries to struggle against me, attempting to break free, but he's doesn't stand a chance. I can knock him out cold with one well placed punch and he knows it.

  Seth gives up trying, shrinking in size. His shoulders roll forward and his chin dips down. He isn't going to challenge me. This time he's using his head and making the right choice.

  Kelsie is staring at me with wide eyes. I can see the pain and fear in her gaze. She doesn't want anything to happen to her little brother, no matter how much of a pain in the ass he is.

  Besides, what does kicking his ass do? It doesn't solve anything. It doesn't fix this mess we're in. Kicking the shit out of him won't teach him a lesson.

  “Get in,” I demand. Seth doesn't hesitate. He climbs in the backseat, and I slam the door shut. I get in the driver's seat and wait for Kelsie to climb in last.

  “What the hell are we going to do?” she asks. “How do we explain any of this?”

  “Don't worry. I'll fix it.”

  I know what has to happen. It's not an easy decision, but it's the right decision.

  And sometimes doing what's right hurts.

  7

  Kelsie

  I can't stop staring at the tow truck behind us in the side mirror. Every turn we take fully exposes the mangled mess I've found myself in. I have no idea how the hell I'm going to explain this to my father. And I have no idea how he's going to take it.

  With my arms crossed, I keep my head facing out the window. I have nothing to say. I'm so fucking angry at my brother for doing this, for all of this. And the fact he thinks he can just get away with it if he tells my father about Brand and me is making me sick.

  What kind of brother does that?

  How dare he think that's the answer to saving his own ass?

  We had a deal, and that deal didn't have any clauses. The fine print was obviously too small for me to read, because had I known he was going to crash the car and use our secret against me, I would have told him to get bent.

  The closer we get to the car show, the heavier my stomach feels. It's like my gut is being stabbed over and over. I swallow hard as the sign for the drag strip comes into view, but the lump in my throat doesn't move.

  Brand looks over at me. I can feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of my head, but I don't look over at him. I don't want to. The anger I feel is too much, and the sad thing is it's not even his fault.

  I can't blame him for any of this. I made my own bed, now I just have to lay in it.

  The blinker clicks on. It clicks and clacks loud as a grandfather clock. He turns the wheel and my stomach flips upside down. Dirt pebbles spit up, popping against the undercarriage.

  Oh god, this is it. There's no turning back now. I want to jump out of the vehicle. My legs twitch and my toes are nervously tapping against the floor.

  “Get ready, Kel,” my brother says. I can hear the sliver of a smile on his face as he taunts me. “If I go down, you go down. Remember that.”

  Brand reaches over and grabs my hand, squeezing it softly. “Don't listen to him. This isn't the end of the world. I promise you that.”

  I pull my hand free, refusing to let him see how vulnerable and sad I feel right now. I'm about to lose everything. Whatever Brand's thinking, whatever he's trying to do to make me feel better, it doesn't change the fact that everything is about to change. His life and mine.

  My heart speeds up, beating like a drum in my chest. I'm sweating. My hands are damp, and I can feel the sweat as it beads on the back of my neck. Acid bubbles up in the back of my throat, burning my tongue.

  Ugh. I'm going to throw up.

&
nbsp; My hand moves to my stomach, clutching it gently as everything in my belly swooshes and swirls inside. As we drive through the crowd, everyone around us gawks at the smashed up car on the bed of the truck.

  And then I see my father.

  His face turns beat red as he throws his hands on top of his head. There's a look of shock and pure unbridled anger on his face. He's trying to figure out what's going on, and within that confusion his rage bubbles up. It looks like his head is going to pop clear off his neck, like a soda bottle that's been shaken and the cap is hanging on to the threads for dear life.

  Brand parks the car, and the tow truck pulls in behind us. I'm breathing heavy, and my heart is pumping blood through my body so hard I can hear it whoosh in my ears.

  The world around me is silent. A small crowd is starting to form. People are pointing at the car and whispering to each other, but I can't hear anything.

  I know I should get out of the car, but fear is holding me back. My fingers dig into the seat, and my legs are heavy as lead. I can't move.

  “Kelsie,” Brand says, causing me to finally look over at him. “Everything is going to be fine. I promise.”

  “You can't make those kinds of promises,” I answer coldly. Forcing my hand to move, I pull the handle, and let the door swing open. It bounces lightly against the hinges, and the heat from the muggy summer day hits me like a ton of bricks.

  “Well,” my brother says, “time to get this over with.” He throws open his door and jumps out.

  I exhale a slow breath, ready to take that first step. But before I can, my father is already screaming.

  “What the hell happened!?” His fingers rip at his hair, and his eyes are wide as saucers. Small red veins in his eyes shoot across like rivers of fire, and the thick vein in his forehead begins to throb. “What the fuck did you do?” His voice echoes as he yells. He walks right past my door, and to his car that's now a mangled mess of broken metal. “What the fuck did you do?”

  “Dad—” I start to say as I hop down onto the dirt, but Brand quickly steps in and cuts me off.

  “I'm so sorry about the car, Mr. Klein. This is all my fault.”

  What? No, it's not! You did nothing wrong!

  Why are you saying this right now?

  I'm speechless. The words roll through my head, but nothing finds its way out.

  My father jerks his head in his direction, his eyes burning with fire. “You—you did this? How the hell did you destroy my car?” He doesn't hold back. “You dumb fucking shit! Tell me what the hell happened you stupid fucking asshole!”

  Brand clears his throat and holds out his hand. He pats the air as if that will somehow quell the situation. “I meant to tell you this morning that she needed gas, but I completely forgot. So, I asked Seth to run up the street to put some in. He didn't want to do it, he told me you wouldn't be happy if you found out, but I made him anyway. When Mrs. Klein told me she couldn't find him, I knew exactly where he was. I saw how worried Mrs. Klein and Kelsie were, so I decided to go get him. Kelsie came with me, and I just pretended like I didn't know where he was. When we got to the station, I wouldn't let him drive it back, I decided I should be driving it instead.”

  My father's jaw clicks back and forth over his teeth. “That still doesn't tell me exactly how this happened.” He throws a stiff finger out and points at the car. “This isn't fucking story time. All I want to know is how this happened.” His finger trembles with rage at the car.

  “I was being stupid and showing off. I lost control and flipped her.”

  He's lying. Why the hell is he lying for my brother?

  My jaw is hanging open and I'm not sure what to say. Neither does my brother. We're both standing like statues. I look over at Seth and arch a single brow. He needs to do something. My brother needs to step up and take responsibility for what he's done.

  Fix this! My eyes are screaming at my brother. I want him to grow some balls and stand up. This isn't right. I'm watching Brand sacrifice himself for my punk brother.

  Fine. If you're not going to do it, I am. I shake my head at my brother and flare my nostrils. “Dad,” I say, holding out my hand. “That's n—”

  “No, Kelsie,” Brand says, giving me a hard stare. “He needs to know the truth. Right, Seth? Tell him, tell your dad what happened.”

  “Uh, yeah,” he says with a stutter. “Brand took off fast, and then the car started to fishtail, and he lost control.”

  You little bastard!

  Can my father not see the cut on Seth's face? Can he not hear his lie in his voice?

  I'm stunned. Brand and my brother are making up a story for what? To save my brother's ass?

  Maybe it isn't your brother he's saving. The thought hits me hard, like a dagger in the chest. And as I look in Brand eyes, I see it clearly. He isn't doing this for my brother at all. This is for me. . . But why?

  My father's lips fold into a deep scowl. His hands are clenched at his sides, and the throbbing vein on his forehead is now ready to burst. With flared nostrils, his voice is low, but clear. “You're fucking fired. Get the hell out of here.”

  No! It's not his fault!

  “Dad, wait!” I yell, taking a few long steps forward. “You can't—”

  “Kelsie,” Brand says, “it's the right thing. I fucked up and this is what happens.”

  “But it's not… You—”

  “It is.” His eyes steady on mine. “When you make a mistake, you have to pay the price. And sometimes that costs you everything.”

  The tone in voice makes me question everything I thought about us.

  Is he saying that I'm a mistake?

  My heart cramps and cracks. I can feel it crumbling inside my chest as Brand hangs his head and walks off. He thinks that what happened between us is wrong. He's wishing last night never happened.

  It all makes sense now. There's no reason for him to protect my brother. To save a kid who made a poor choice, a boy who has no idea what it means to be a man.

  This isn't what I want. I'd rather my father be angry for the rest of his life than give up the one person who makes me feel alive. Brand gives me something I've never found anywhere else.

  He makes me feel full when I'm empty. He makes me feel happy when I'm blue.

  He makes me feel like I'm the only girl in the world.

  I'm not ready to give all that up.

  And I'm not ready to let him just walk away.

  8

  Brand

  I can't even look at her. It hurts too much.

  The pain swirling in her eyes is like a storm. Thunder booms and rain pours as her eyes glaze over and the color dims. I don't want to be the burden of her sorrow. And I don't want to be the reason the light goes out in her eyes.

  But I know if I don't do this, if I don't take the fall, her brother will destroy her life. That's not something I'm going to stand by and let happen. I did what I needed to to save her.

  I call a taxi on my phone as I walk up to the main road. Mr. Klein is still reeling in the background. He's yelling and screaming so loudly no one is even willing to try to calm him down.

  How could they anyway? What do you say to a man whose prized possession, his trophy winning car, is now in shambles on the back of a tow truck?

  Nothing. That's what.

  “Brand!” Kelsie calls out.

  I ignore her, but I can see her running toward me from the corner of my eye. My heart is in my throat. It doesn't matter what I want. She deserves more. More than a life with a guy who's just getting by. More than a life where her family looks down on her, and refuses to let her back in.

  Come on. Where the hell is the taxi?

  “Brand, wait!” she yells louder.

  I'm pacing in front of the entrance, praying the taxi gets here before she does. There's nothing she can say that's going to change my mind. I'm doing this. And I'm doing this for her. Being selfish is easy but being selfless is what will set her free.

  “Brand!” she calls out, her vo
ice so close I can feel the air slip down the back of my neck.

  The yellow taxi pulls into the breakdown lane, and I don't think twice. I get in, shutting the door quickly behind me, and telling the driver to go. He gives me a look in the mirror, but I don't have time to explain.

  “Just go,” I demand.

  The driver looks briefly in his side view mirror, as if he's debating if he should wait for the running girl. Then he punches the gas and pulls back onto the road. I let out the breath I've been holding in, thinking I'll finally be able to relax now.

  I'm leaving, and Kelsie is behind me. Our time together, as brief as it was, will only be a memory now. The pain I feel tearing my chest apart will fade, and our lives will go on.

  It's for the best. I try to convince myself that this is good for both of us, but I know deep inside that I'm lying to myself.

  I'm giving up on my own happiness to appease a man who only cares for himself, and for a boy who doesn't know the first thing about owning up to his own mistakes.

  My head falls back and I look out window, letting the trees speeding past put me in a trance.

  The taxi smells like fresh pine and cigarettes. A mix that's not so pleasant, and slightly burns my nostrils. The bench seat in the back is a faded blue leather, with wisps of stuffing poking through small holes.

  “Where you heading?” the driver asks.

  “I need to go to Carter House Inn and then to the bus station.”

  He nods, letting his eyes drift back to the road. The engine hums under the hood, and every time we hit a small bump it sounds like he's running over a bird.

  “Your struts are gone. You should probably fix them,” I say.

  “My what?” he asks.

  “That squeaking noise you hear, it's your struts.”

  “Oh, thanks, I'll—”

  Honk! Honk!

  Jerking up in my seat, I twist to look out the back window. Kelsie is flying up behind us in her parents’ SUV.

  “Um, sir,” the driver says. “I think they want us to pull over.”

  “It's not the cops, so don't pull over, keep going.” I'm watching the car get closer and closer.