HERO: An Unfit Hero Novel

by Faiman, Hayley

  “Exeter, you okay?” Channing asks.

  Looking over to her, I see that she’s holding a bag of popcorn out for me. Louis and Tulip are behind her, they’re talking to one another, so they don’t realize I’ve frozen in my spot. “I don’t know,” I whisper.

  “What’s wrong?” she demands softly.

  “I’ve never been on a real date.”

  Channing doesn’t say anything immediately, instead she nods her head, then she gives me a small smile. “Oh yeah? Me either. It’s nice Louis is doing this for us, huh?”

  “It is, I guess I just realized I’m twenty-five and have never been on a date, doesn’t that make you sad?”

  Channing tilts her head to the side, her gaze searching mine for a moment, then shakes her head once. “It doesn’t. Rylan doesn’t need to take me anywhere, even being in bed eating desserts with him feels like a dream come true. Don’t you feel that way about Wyatt?”

  Her question does something to me. My mind drifts back to eating ice cream with him, pizza, and all the other shitty foods he brings me because he claims he doesn’t want me to diet, that he likes me just the way that I am. I realize that she’s right. Those moments are more magical than anything else I’ve felt with another person in my life.

  “I do. I feel the exact same way,” I admit.

  Channing’s lips curve up into a smile. She takes a step to the side and juts her chin toward Louis and Tulip, who are still talking to one another.

  “Now, let’s go watch a movie with our handsome date.”

  WYATT

  My cell rings and unfortunately, I have to ignore it. The thunder cracks above me, as my arms are up working on the pole in front of me. I call out to Rylan for the cross arms and braces, along with the hardware. This particular pole is too far in the swamp area for me to have my bucket truck, so I had to strap on my hooks and climb up.

  Leaning back, I continue to work while my phone starts to buzz in my shirt pocket, again. Fuck. It must be important. I don’t like to rush, but I feel my hands begin to shake. My mind goes wild with what could be happening while I’m up here on this pole.

  As soon as I’m able, I climb down. Landing in the ankle-deep swampland, I shed my rubber sleeves as quickly as I can, and reach for my phone. I hold my breath as I wait for the screen to show me who has been calling me.

  It’s Ford.

  “Fuck.” I hiss.

  Swiping my thumb over his name, my phone automatically begins to return his call. “Ford,” I yell.

  The reception has been shit here for days. I haven’t been able to even call out to talk to Exeter. There’s a garbled sound on the other end. Fuck.

  Looking over at Rylan, I frown. “Can you get a call out?” I ask him.

  He reaches for his phone and I watch as he attempts. He shakes his head. “Ford called me twice, but I can’t get ahold of him,” I say.

  Rylan looks visibly pale. “Probably just checking in. Maybe once we get back to staging, we can get reception,” he suggests.

  He knows it’s most likely not going to happen. It has been terrible for days, even in the staging area. Right now, we’re in the middle of swampland and our worries should be the gators, snakes, and whatever else has been displaced from all of this goddamn water, brush, and mud.

  “Why don’t you two take a nap. We’ll finish up this last pole,” my foreman suggests.

  I don’t even pretend that I can go on. I can’t. I’m fucking wiped. Rylan and I walk over to my bucket truck. I leave my boots on the ground, along with the rest of my shit next to my truck. We’re the only crew over here, so I don’t have to worry too much about my shit getting stolen, at least not at the moment. Not out here in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.

  In the city, I wouldn’t even close my eyes until I was in the staging area, and even then, some of these assholes have sticky goddamn fingers. Rylan climbs into the truck with a groan. “You tired?” I needlessly ask.

  “Haven’t slept for almost two days, same as you,” he snaps.

  “Channing is fine. Got Louis, Exeter, and Ford on her,” I remind him.

  He grunts, we’re both on edge, both goddamn exhausted, and both ready to go home to our women. It’s been two weeks, two of the longest weeks of our lives. It feels like it’s been two months, and at this rate, it’ll be two more months before we even get home.

  Fucking shit, this time it’s going slow. We’re still at well over two million outages, closer to three than two. Everything seems to be moving at a snail’s pace. Leaning my head back, I close my eyes. What I wouldn’t give for a soft bed, my woman’s soft body, and a long hot shower, in no particular order.

  Rylan and I both fall asleep in seconds. It seems like we sleep for only a minute when my foreman raps on the door with his knuckles.

  “Load up, we’re up and running. Let’s get back and get some shut-eye,” he shouts.

  I lift my chin, slowly opening the door then sliding down to the ground. I shake out my boots just in case some animal has made its way inside while I was sleeping. It doesn’t take us long to load up our gear and then we’re on our way back toward the staging area.

  We need to get some sleep before we meet for breakfast and briefing at six sharp. Something you learn early on storm work. Nobody waits for you. If you’re late, you don’t eat.

  Although I could be fine and never eat another cold meal from a Styrofoam box, or a plate of powdered scrambled eggs again, it’s all I got right now, so I don’t want to miss it at all.

  Rylan follows behind me, I check for him in my rearview mirror often. Keeping an eye out for my tired and stressed out cousin. I know how he feels, because I feel the same goddamn way.

  Once we find our spots, I climb out of my truck, grabbing a clean pair of underwear and sweat pants. Making my way toward the portable trailer that houses the shower facility, I decide to clean the swamp off of me.

  Once my body is decently clean, but freezing from the cold water, I walk back toward my truck. Week two of sleeping in my truck, almost turning into week three, and I’m wondering if I’ll ever be in a real bed again.

  I reach for my phone before I climb into the truck, hoping that I’ll be able to get ahold of Ford. There is better reception here, but with thousands of guys trying to call home at all hours of the day and night, it’s not always certain that you’ll get a call out. I curse when the phone won’t even ring. Tossing it in the cab, I let out a growl, then climb back inside to get some sleep.

  Fuck fuck fuck.

  Chapter Thirty

  EXETER

  Another excruciatingly long day at work, for which I’m grateful. Spending the day with new moms and babies shouldn’t be as fun as it is, but I love it, every minute of it. I don’t know that I would enjoy my work if I was in any other part of the hospital nearly as much. New life, pure life, and the excitement of new parents is like nothing else in this world.

  The back of my head hits the elevator mirror behind me with a thud. Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply and let it out. My eyes are so tired that they burn slightly and pinching them closed gives me a moments relief. The elevator car door opens, then closes, but I continue to enjoy my dark and quiet moment.

  “Long shift?” a familiar voice murmurs.

  Slowly, I open one eye, then another. I let out a puff of air and realize that Elijah has just walked on the elevator car with me, and we’re alone. I hum my answer, not wishing to really converse with him. He’s nice enough, but he’s not Wyatt and even if I didn’t have him, Elijah would never be the man for me.

  “When are you going to let me take you out, properly?” he practically demands.

  I blink, unsure if he’d forgotten the run-in he had in the parking garage with Wyatt just weeks ago, or if he’s so up his own ass that he thinks I’ll somehow run into his arms. I wouldn’t, not ever, not even if I was single.

  “Umm. I’m seeing someone, Elijah,” I say.

  He lifts his chin, looking down his nose at me. “That Neander
thal blue-collar worker?” he asks.

  I almost, almost, laugh in his face. However, I know with a man like him that it wouldn’t turn out too well. Honestly, I don’t even want to deal with him, or his smallminded stuck up attitude. Instead, I nod, giving him a huge fake smile as I glance at the elevator, knowing that it will be opening shortly for me to exit.

  “Yes, Elijah, Wyatt. He works in a construction-type field. He’s rough, he’s built, he’s huge and he knows exactly what he’s doing,” I state as soon as the elevator dings.

  The doors slide open, I walk away, leaving a stunned Elijah in the car. What a jerk. A complete and total jerk. I don’t know why I ever thought that he was anything other than a jackass. He’s not. He’s completely worthless.

  Hurrying toward my car, I open the door and sink inside of the driver’s seat. Starting the engine, it makes a weird clicking noise and nothing happens. I wait a second, then try again and it finally roars to life.

  Shifting the car into reverse, I begin to back up. Once I ease out of the parking space, I notice Elijah standing at the trunk of his car, watching me drive by. He still looks a bit stunned, as if he’s not quite sure I really said what I did to him.

  Tonight is dinner and shopping with Channing. She said that before Rylan left, he told her to create a list of everything she needs for the baby. His plans for his big storm paycheck that he would get when he returned was that he was going to outfit the nursery and pay for all the baby’s essentials.

  I’m happy to join Channing in her shopping quest. Hopefully, I can help her a little, though I don’t know a whole lot, I might be able to lend some advice here and there. Plus, baby things are so soft and cute, I’m more than excited to help along with oohing and awing over all of the sweet things.

  Pulling up against Channing’s curb, I reach for my small backpack in the backseat. Inside, there are a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that I’m going to change into. I like my scrubs, they’re comfortable, but sometimes I just want out of them. Today is one of those days.

  Slinging one of the backpack straps over my shoulder, I jog up the walkway and toward the porch. I don’t even have to knock on the door. Channing immediately swings it open, a smile plastered on her face. She’s excited, and I can’t help but feel the exact same way—she’s infectious.

  “I’m going to change really quick, then I’ll be ready to go,” I say.

  She nods. “Go ahead, are you hungry or anything?” she asks as I make my way toward the bathroom.

  “No, just a water maybe?” I call out before I close the door behind me.

  Hurrying, I throw on my clothes, then quickly put my hair up in a high ponytail and shove my scrubs back into my bag before I slip on my sandals. I let out a sigh of relief and make my way out of the bathroom and toward the kitchen. Channing is there, two bottles of water on the counter.

  She’s looking down when I walk in, and slowly lifts her eyes up to me, a frown on her face. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “Have you been able to get ahold of Wyatt?”

  Slowly, I shake my head. “Not really. I mean he called me last night, but the connection was awful.”

  Channing lifts her chin slightly, her eyes still looking worried and a bit haunted. “Yeah, same here. I’ve just been worried,” she admits.

  I hum in agreement. I’ve been worried too, which is why I’ve been trying to keep busy with work, and then spending the rest of my time with Channing and Tulip. Whatever unoccupied moments I have left, I spend with MawMaw, too. Anything at all to keep from going to that empty house in the country and spending a lot of time there alone.

  “They’ll be okay. Hopefully they’ll be home soon,” I offer brightly, too brightly.

  Channing doesn’t buy my fake happiness, and frankly, neither do I. She grabs ahold of one of the waters and shoves the bottle toward me, I take it and watch as she grabs the second one, then heads toward the door.

  Following behind her, I let out a sigh and together we make our way toward my car. Once we’re settled inside, my car starts up like a dream. I frown, unsure of what could have happened to make it have problems earlier, but I shake it off as a one-time thing and pull away from the curb to head toward Walmart.

  I notice something in my rearview mirror. Something that I haven’t seen for days, but the sight sends a chill down my spine. That fucking blue truck, again. I know it’s him, it has to be, but how? I haven’t actually seen his face, so I don’t know for sure, but I just know it’s him.

  “Are you okay?” Channing asks after a moment’s silence.

  I clear my throat, lifting my gaze to my rearview mirror again, but the truck is gone. Shaking my head once, I smile. “Yeah, just tired, I think.”

  “We can do this another day if you’re too tired,” Channing offers, obviously feeling guilty.

  I snort. “No way, Channing. I’m excited for this,” I say as I pull into the parking lot.

  Finding a spot near the door, I pull in and turn the engine off. Channing reaches over, wrapping her fingers around my forearm and she squeezes gently. She releases me without a word, and slowly unfolds from the car, standing to her feet.

  I do the same, but it isn’t because of the swell of a pregnant belly, it’s because I can’t get my father out of my head. It’s probably not even him that I’ve been seeing, just a freak coincidence, but his visit a few weeks ago to both me and MawMaw, it has had me on edge since and with Wyatt being gone, that edginess is ramped up about a million.

  Making our way into the store, I grab a cart and begin to push it toward the baby department. Channing pulls a notebook and pen out of her purse and I can’t help but smile. She’s so nervous and excited about this baby. As much as I hated the timing and the way this hurricane has rolled in, I can’t deny that it’s the absolute perfect timing for them, financially at least.

  We begin the list, starting with the big items first. Stroller, car seat, swing, and anything else we find that is considered a larger item. I take the notebook and pen from her and let her look over each item carefully looking at the pros and cons of every single one and comparing it to another. It doesn’t bother me, not in the slightest. I’m glad for the distraction.

  We’re looking at bottle boxes when I feel her body stiffen next to mine. Wondering what has her so upset, I lift my gaze to a woman standing at the mouth of the aisle. She has a toddler in her basket, her wide eyes focused on Channing, and her mouth agape slightly.

  “Don’t go,” Channing murmurs.

  The girl looks to be around our age. I study her for a moment, trying to search through my memory banks. Sometimes I can recall past patients, but she doesn’t look familiar at all. She takes a step back but stops at Channing’s word.

  “Is she James’?” Channing asks, lifting her hand to point at the child.

  Her entire body locks up, I watch as shame crosses her features. Full on shame and my heart bleeds a little for her, no it bleeds a hell of a lot. She’s brave. Braver than I ever was. Her eyes fill with tears, this stranger in the middle of Walmart.

  Channing takes a step toward her, she drops her gaze, then inhales a deep breath. “She’s Jacob’s. He didn’t know. I left town. My parents sent me away to live with an aunt like it’s nineteen-fifty. I was so angry at the time,” she admits, inhaling a shaky breath.

  “But you’re not now?” Channing chances asking.

  She shakes her head. “He was sick. It took me some time away from him, some counseling which was not an option as part of my stay away. Then when I came home, baby in tow, I went to him to confront him. Or maybe I wanted him to not be this monster that the counselor and my family were convinced that he was.” She lifts her eyes, focusing her gaze on Channing, then her next words come out in a whisper. “There was another girl there when he answered the door. I’d been replaced. He’d never loved me.”

  “Did you tell him?” I chance asking.

  I’m invested in this story, in this woman. Odds are Emily was the other girl there
, my Emily. Emily, who was so sure that Jacob loved her as well. Emily that could have very easily fallen pregnant with his baby. Emily that is doing well now, but at the time, she would have done anything for him, including murder.

  “I did,” she confirms. “He told me I was nothing but a whore and it could be anyone’s baby. Everyone was right. He didn’t love me. He used me. Just like James used you, just like they used every one.”

  Her lips are trembling, and Channing is standing in shocked stillness from the words of this woman. I don’t know who she is, but she needs a hug. Walking over to her, I wrap my arms around her and pull her against me. She returns my embrace for a moment and composes herself.

  “I’m Exeter, my cousin was with Jacob,” I murmur as I release my arms from her shoulders.

  She gives me a small watery smile. “I’m Lindie,” she says.

  “Channing,” Channing finally speaks.

  Lindie lifts her chin. “I know.”

  Small town gossip never fails, and Lindie has heard everything about Channing, I’m sure of it. Though I’m surprised I haven’t heard anything about her. Single mom, teenage pregnancy, sent away, these are all things that would make this town hard as nails and have everyone’s tongues wagging.

  Lindie’s eyes find mine and her lips twitch in a small knowing smile. She can read my question, and thankfully, she puts me out of my curious misery.

  “I was homeschooled. I lived a couple houses down from him. When everything happened, my parents sold their house and moved to Burnet,” she confesses.

  “I’m sorry all of that happened to you, that he did what he did,” I offer.

  She lifts her hand, waving it in the air. Her eyes move from me to Channing and she gives her a warm smile. “I’m not sorry because I have my baby. It’s been hard, but my parents have been amazing. It was difficult at first, and I think they thought if they sent me away that somehow it would change the outcome, the fact that I had a baby with a man out of wedlock.”

  “I’m glad everything has worked out. I have thought about you since the first time I saw you,” Channing admits. “I knew you were like me,” she whispers.