by Lexy Timms
Stillsville wasn’t much different from where I grew up, and I wondered why the hell I was bothering. Maybe this place wasn’t worth my time. Maybe it would be better if I called my mother and asked her to send me enough money for a bus ticket home. I didn’t have to stay with her. I didn’t want to stay with her. But sleeping on the streets of a familiar town felt a little better than sleeping on the streets of a town I didn’t give a shit about.
A town that my ex lived in.
But the thought of returning back to the oil town made me want to throw up. The idea of going back to that damn trucking company and living in my crackerjack box apartment and boasting that I was ‘making it’ made me nauseous. I had felt trapped in my hometown, and Andy had provided a way out. I loved him, sure. But if I was truly honest with myself, that wasn’t the real reason I left with him. Love was not the real reason I agreed to go off with a man I’d only known a few months. All of my friends had gone off to college and never came back—not that I blamed them. They all got scholarships or took out loans. But me? I couldn’t do either. I stayed and worked my way through my two-year degree in some pointless venture to prove to myself that I was better than my mother. That I could survive without a father figure in my life. That I could make something of my world despite the fact that he had just fucked my mother and left.
Leaving me behind, like some unwanted trinket.
Going home brought back so many painful memories. But if I couldn’t find a job in Stillsville, I’d have no other choice.
I refilled my drink and walked back around to the stores. I caught some of the managers and talked to them, just to inform them that I’d put in an application. Most of them looked shocked before they started asking me questions, and I quickly found my stomach plummeting to my toes. I had no retail experience, so I wasn’t qualified for a bulk of the sales associate positions. Most of the entry-level jobs were filled by the high school girls who needed the experience at their age.
Which I knew was code for ‘that job isn’t for slacker twenty-four year olds.’
Some of the managers straight-up told me they weren’t hiring and had no plans to until the holidays. Some advised me to come back at Thanksgiving and Christmas when they made seasonal hires.
But I didn’t have until the holiday season. It was the middle of summer. I didn’t have time to wait until December for a damn job.
Refilling my drink, I started the long walk back to Anton’s house. My prospects for a job were dismal, at best. I stopped at a few random businesses still open along the three-mile stretch and put in my application, but most people just looked at me with a blank stare before tossing it off to the side. I felt defeated. Worthless. Useless.
Maybe my mother was right when she had called me all those things.
Maybe the only reason I left with Andy was because I was just like her. Useless and pathetic without a man at my side.
My eyes welled at the words as the sun beat down on my back.
I was a failure, and it was obvious to everyone. That was why no one wanted to consider my resume. That was why everyone kept throwing them in the trash can. Andy knew it, and he’d kicked me out. My father knew it before I was even born, and he left. And soon, Gray would come to know it and he would kick me out as well. Hell, he probably already knew it, since he had agreed to let me hang around for a few days. A handout to the neediest, most pathetic person in town, coming right up!
That was it.
I’d made up my mind.
In the morning, I’d call my mother and ask her for the money for that bus ticket.
I walked up onto Anton’s porch and stared in the window. I looked at the reflection of the woman staring back at me and almost didn’t recognize her. The lifeless eyes. The forlorn stare. The downturned lips. At one point in time, a vibrant young girl had looked back at me. Full of life, with prospects and pride as she spent her money on her own degree that she just knew would take her places. But as I stared at my carcass of a reflection, I saw why Gray felt sorry for me.
Saw why he felt I needed a handout.
Gray looked and talked like a successful adult. Held himself with pride and carried himself with confidence. But me? I was a twenty-something stereotype. No wonder he offered me a place to stay. He probably felt like he’d be kicking a wounded puppy or something if he put me out. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath as sweat trickled down my back.
What I wouldn’t give to have met him on equal footing.
Maybe then, I’d have a chance with him.
I couldn’t deny how attractive he was. But nothing was going to ever come of it. He was a tall, intelligent, well-spoken man in his thirties, probably. And I was a bullshit excuse for an adult in her twenties that kept floundering around with her life. Hitting dead ends, hoping to climb up some imaginary ladder that seemed so slick it must be coated in oil. But him, his bright blue eyes seem to look right into my soul, and the way his thick dark hair swooped back was so sexy. Those broad shoulders padded with lean muscle did me in.
And his arms. The way they throbbed with strength. The way the strong lines of his torso had disappeared beneath his jeans that morning.
A shiver ran through my body as I opened my eyes.
Yep. In another time—in another reality—I would’ve jumped his bones. I would have rolled my shoulders back in confidence and brought a meal to the table so delicious he couldn’t turn it down. Back when I felt more confident in myself. Back when I felt indestructible.
Back when life hadn’t pummeled me into the ground.
Drawing in a deep breath, I stepped away from the window and opened the front door of Anton’s house.
I needed a fucking shower to wash off the bullshit from my afternoon.
Chapter 9
Grayson
“He what?” I asked.
“I’ve been looking into it because there’s a lot here that Mr. Volk wants donated in various ways. But one of the things he did for people in the community, was that he bought various properties around town and then didn’t charge the tenants that lived there rent.”
“How many properties are we talking about?” I asked.
“Twenty-two. He owned twenty-two of them. And they’re dotted throughout the entire county. Ten are right here in Stillsville, but the rest are scattered.”
“What does he want me to do with them? I mean, what does he want to do with them? Does it say?” I asked.
“Here, take a look for yourself.”
He slid one of the pages of Anton’s will over to me and I read it. Over and over again, until it fully digested. Anton wanted me to talk to the twenty two families and tell them that he was turning the property over to them. Free of charge. I couldn’t believe it. Anton had been footing the bills and property taxes for over twenty parcels of land within the county limits at no charge to the tenants. And now, he wanted me to inform them that he was giving them the land for nothing. Free. Simply because they needed it.
“I’ve got all the paperwork on the properties,” the estate lawyer said. “I talked to the real estate agent that helped Anton with all of these purchases. Each house has its own folder of information. The addresses are on the front of them. The tenants will need them for legality purposes.”
I looked at the box the lawyer heaved up onto his desk and I was stunned. This was Anton’s last gift to these people. His dying act. I was floored. I had no idea what to say. Did he want me to inform them in person? It was probably better that way. Which meant my rental car would put on a lot of miles before I returned it back to the company.
“The one thing Anton doesn’t outline is what to do with his other various properties,” the lawyer said.
“The only thing I can think to do is sell them off,” I said. “That’ll give his charities even more money to split between all of them.”
“Is that what you want to do?” he asked.
“It’s the only thing I can think to do. He’s outlined twelve charities he wants a specific
amount donated to that practically drains his funds. Why not sell off his property, split it twelve ways, and give the charities more? If they mean that much to my godfather, then why not give them as much as he had to give himself?”
“I think it’s a good idea. A sound one. But what about Anton’s house here? In Stillsville?”
“I guess sell that off, too,” I said.
“If I may be so bold, you don’t sound too convinced.”
“There’s no reason for it to stay in his name and I don’t want it. I guess I could find someone to take care of it or live in it, since he’s doing that with other properties. But other than that, selling it off seems like the only other option.”
“Why don’t you think on that specific property for a few days? At least until you leave. I can get the ball rolling on all the other ones, but why don’t you make sure that’s what you want for Anton’s home?”
“Fine,” I said, as I stood. “I don’t think my mind will change, but that’s fine. I need to go figure out what to do about these other properties anyway. Something tells me Anton would’ve wanted me to do this face to face.”
“That sounds like him,” the lawyer said with a grin.
I needed some time to breathe and think. I needed a game plan on how best to inform the inheritors of Anton’s very generous gift to them. I also needed to figure out what the fuck to do with Anton’s home here in Stillsville. I stood up and took the box in my hands, thanked the lawyer for his time, then hauled the box out to the trunk of my car.
I started back to Anton’s with my mind astray on various topics. It had been a whirlwind the past couple of days, and every time I turned around I was getting smacked in the face with something else I didn’t know about my godfather. I guess we had both kept secrets from one another. We had parts of our lives locked up from the rest of the world. Kept to ourselves and didn’t let anyone in on the things we actually did with our money.
It made me respect the man more.
And made me wish I would’ve come back to see him more.
It made his letter to me hurt a little more.
My eyes squinted as I saw a familiar form walking down the sidewalk. Was that Michelle? I pulled up beside her as that deep red hair glistened in the sun, and when she turned to look at me she smiled.
“Well hello there, stranger,” I said with a grin.
“Fancy seeing you out here,” Michelle said.
“Need a ride?”
“Sure. I could use one back to the house,” she said.
“Hop in. It’s way too hot to be walking around out here.”
She opened the door to my rental car and slid her beautiful body in next to mine. Damn, she looked good. A light sheen of sweat covered her skin and her hair was just tousled enough to make me want to mess it up more. Her lips were red and her skin was flushed from her walking efforts.
I had a hard time taking my eyes off her so I could watch the road.
“So, what are you doing walking around out here?” I asked.
“Well, I went to the mall for the day and came back, and then I got a call from one of the shops downtown about a job so I walked there to give an interview. You caught me walking back.”
“Already pounding the pavement for a job. Am I that bad to live with?” I asked.
She smiled and it drew a chuckle out of me. She was so cute. I watched her blush, and I wanted to reach out and caress it with my thumb. But there were a lot of things I wanted to do to her that I couldn’t.
Like slide my hand up that skirt of hers.
“How has your day been going?” Michelle asked.
“Busy. Interesting. I’m trying to come to grips with Anton’s—largesse.”
“Oh, fancy. That’s one of those ten-dollar words.”
“It’s when—”
“Someone bestows a very generous gift on someone else. I’m not an idiot,” she said.
That fiery look in her eye made my cock throb again.
Damn it.
“So what did you find out about our dear Anton today?” she asked, as she relaxed into the seat.
She rolled down her window and floated her hand out along the streams of air passing by the car.
“Anton’s will promises something to almost everyone in this damn place. And I have to do his bidding by sorting it all out with them face to face.”
“Oh, I know you hate that,” she said.
“It’s not the way I saw this going down, no.”
“Let me guess. You thought you’d come into town, sell everything off, and leave before the week was up.”
“Something like that,” I said.
“Anton’s got someone by the balls even after his death.”
I laughed as I pulled us into the driveway of his home. She really did know Anton well.
“Do you need any help? You know, sorting things out?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t turn it down, no,” I said.
“Well, then let’s get inside and get started.”
We sat down at the kitchen table and Michelle was hunched over a pad. She had a pen between her delicate fingers and I found myself growing jealous of the apparatus. I wanted to be between her fingers. I wanted her to fiddle around with me. I shook the thoughts away as I leaned back in my chair, hoping my cock would die down long enough to actually deal with Anton’s will and all the shit he’d thrown me headfirst into.
“We can start by making a list of all the items we need to retrieve,” Michelle said.
“Can we do this while I’m cooking dinner?” I asked. “I’m suddenly really hungry.”
“Or a very good procrastinator.”
She looked up at me from underneath that brow of hers, and suddenly cooking dinner sounded like a fantastic idea. Anything to put a little space between us. I got up from the chair and she sighed, ‘tsking’ me like I was a small boy to be chastised for my actions.
“Okay, look. If you’re serious about dinner, then I’m going to make it,” Michelle said.
I turned around from the pantry and found she was standing directly behind me. Accidently, I barreled into her, dropping the things out of my hands. She stumbled back and my body reacted, catching her around her waist so she didn’t fall on her ass.
Her eyes widened and stared back at me as I slowly settled her back on her feet.
“You good?” I asked.
Her eyes flickered down to my lips momentarily before she closed her eyes.
“Yep. Good,” she said, as she wiggled from my grasp. “But you cooked dinner last night, so it’s my turn to cook tonight.”
“That’s not necessary. I can—”
“Nope! Shoo. Get out. Now. Go. Bye. Peace! Sayonara.”
Her warm hands were planted on my back as she shoved me out of the kitchen. I sure as hell wasn’t going to turn down a home-cooked meal, but having her in my arms was at the forefront of my mind. I spun around and watched her walk back into the kitchen, her thick hips swaying with each step she took. Her eyes. The way they’d looked at my lips was stuck in my mind.
My cock hardened against my pants and I groaned.
I really needed to have a fucking talk with him.
Wandering around the house, I decided to make myself useful. I did need to outline who all of Anton’s things were going to, so I started making a mental catalogue of the items I could remember him wanting to hand out. I had a copy of that list in my room from my first meeting with the estate lawyer. But putting names to the artifacts within the man’s home was something I felt I needed to do.
Or rather, something I felt he would have wanted me to do.
I made my way outside and walked over to Anton’s garage. Dust kicked up around me as I kicked rocks, coming to terms with his passing. I missed him, and I felt guilty for not coming by to see him more. His generosity was astounding, especially in a town I hated so badly. My eyes grazed along a tarp-covered object in the garage and I recognized the shape.
Holy shit.
W
as that what I thought it was?
I held my breath before I grabbed the edge of the tarp. I picked it up as memories blasted my mind. Holy shit. It was what I thought it was. Anton’s 1957 Chevy Bel Air. Candy apple red. Chrome accents. Whitewall tires.
At least, they had been whitewall tires. Before the accident that popped all four of them and rolled the damn thing.
I closed my eyes and was dragged back into the slats of my memory. I remembered that accident like it was yesterday. A fucking joyride gone wrong because I had been an angry little brat as a teenager. I stole it without his permission, wanting to impress some fucking chatty girls. I wanted a little pussy that night, so I took it from his garage and got myself into trouble. Andy challenged me to a race that night. A race the girls all wanted to watch. We sped down one of the back roads and I took a curve way too quickly, trying to impress the girls who were so ready to take their panties off for us. But that curve sent the tires skidding. Sent the car out of control. I tried to gain control of it. I tried to keep it upright. The girls had been screaming and the car rolled, crushing the roof as I tumbled into a meadow with Andy speeding after me to make sure I was okay.
The tires busted from the friction of the rubber against the road, and I landed on my head without a fucking scratch.
The engine had been damaged in the accident, and for the first time I learned about that car. About Anton’s restoration project and how it was the talk of the town. How he sank his own personal time and energy into making it look the way it had.
It was the first and only time he’d ever expressed blatant disappointment in me.
That car had been his baby, and I’d stolen it from him. And judging by the flat tires and the beat-up fender, the old man had never fixed the car back up. Tears sprang to my eyes. Tears I didn’t want to acknowledge. I took it from him and he’d never had the heart to fix it again.
I killed his pride and joy.
