Weathering the Storm by Brynn Paulin

 

 

 

Chapter Eleven

~ Heller ~

I stared at the cellphone in my hand. Last weekend, after I’d spent a week of near radio silence from Becca because of my schedule, we’d gone out and I’d purchased a mobile phone so I could talk to her more often. I’d been thrilled, but right this second while I stood in the restaurant’s parking lot, I wished I didn’t have the device. I wished I could live in blissful ignorance for a few more days.

“Heller, are you still there?” I heard Becca’s voice and brought the phone back to my ear.

“I’m here,” I muttered.

“Did you—”

“Yeah,” I interrupted. “I heard you. Some bullshit about not being able to see me anymore.”

“It’s not bullshit,” she whispered. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t,” I interrupted again. “So you’re going to let some asshole dictate whether or not we see each other? Come on, baby. That’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not!” she argued. “You know better than anyone how important a job is. I need mine.”

“But you don’t need me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

I shook my head and closed my eyes. Inevitability sank in, and I knew nothing I could say would fix this. She’d already made up her mind, and to her, I was a kid who didn’t know up from down. I thought we were past this, but apparently not. Now, she was using her job as an excuse. If she really wanted me, she wouldn’t.

“Don’t worry about it, weathergirl,” I said, calling upon the thick, cold walls that had shielded me whenever any foster home had turned me out, and there had been plenty. I knew this drill. “No big deal. I’m used to this. You’ll move on, and… Well, I guess, you’ll just be one more person on a very long list of people, who are going to be surprised to find out I’m not trash and I’m worth something more. I guess this is bye then,” I added, ignoring her sharp intake of breath. I wouldn’t let her argue with me and try to tell me my feelings were wrong. I’d been there and done that.

My jaw was steel, the fingers of my free hand white knuckled. Probably the ones holding the phone were the same.

“Bye, Becca. It was fun.”

I hit the disconnect button then powered off the cell and shoved it into my pocket. Stupid thing anyway. I hated even having it.

“Heller,” Margo called from the door. “You have an order.”

“Right there!” Nerves fought in my belly as my initial thought was it was a delivery for Becca. But I knew better. Enough time hadn’t passed for that to happen. What if she did order something in the future? Wouldn’t matter. I’d shove the food at her and walk away. She didn’t get to trample on my heart.

Was she everything I wanted? Yes.

But it was over.

I’d just have to get over her somehow, and go on to be everything I’d been fighting to become since I was old enough to know if I wanted success, I had to do it. No one was going to be there giving me a hand up. This was on me. Becca… She’d just been a distraction anyway.

* * * *

My mood was as black as the storm clouds rolling through the sky overhead. Blacker than the oil and grime all over me from the garage. It would take some hardcore cleaner to get it off my hands, but hell, I was getting used to my palms being like sandpaper and fighting to get the oil off my skin. Thank God, I wasn’t one of the mechanics or I’d never get my hands clean, and I wouldn’t be able to work for the restaurant because the stains would always look as if I wasn’t clean enough.

At the moment, I didn’t care about that either. It had been a week and a half since Becca’s call to end things. My disposition could be described as firmly out of joint.

“Hey! Look at that,” Marv, the garage owner, called. I glanced in the direction he nodded and watched a news van roll to a stop at the curb nearby. It was Becca’s station, not that it mattered.

“Hmph,” I muttered, turning away and giving my attention back to the waste oil I was transferring to be recycled. I didn’t give a rats ass to the station or whatever report they thought they were doing.

“Oh…it’s the pretty weathergirl,” Marv said.

My head shot up at that, and as if the universe hated me, my gaze immediately clashed with Becca’s. Her eyes widened, telling me that she’d had no clue this was where I worked. Forcing my face to stay blank, I turned away. What did it matter if she was here or not? It shouldn’t piss me off that all the guys were heading over there to fawn over her. She was mine, damn it! They shouldn’t—

But she wasn’t. She probably hadn’t been mine at all. I’d been nothing more than a fling. Nothing to her.

“Heller.”

My eyes closed at the soft voice. What the hell was she doing in here? It was dirty. There were a bunch of men out there to give her attention.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” I muttered, unable to ignore her, even if I wanted to. I didn’t look at her creamy, mouthwatering beauty, though.

“Will you please look at me?”

“Why are you here?”

“We’re doing a location report.”

“No,” I snapped. “Here. In here. Why are you here? There are half a dozen men out there—”

God, shut the hell up, Heller. You don’t want them with her.

I couldn’t have her, either. What did it matter?

“I’ve missed you.”

I huffed a disbelieving breath through my nose. “You broke up with me, weathergirl.”

“I… Yeah, I did. It was a mistake. Probably. I… Well, I know I handled it poorly. Especially since it wasn’t what I wanted.”

I turned toward her, pushing away the hope trying to emerge inside me. Glancing over her shoulder, I saw my coworkers watching the action in the garage, even while they talked to Becca’s crew. A couple of them were flirting with the girl who’d come along with the team. There was no missing the speculative looks they kept casting our way, though.

“What are you saying?” I bit out, my walls still firmly in place.

She reached to touch me and I backed out of her reach. I was filthy. She couldn’t touch me. I realized my mistake when hurt filled her eyes.

“I’m dirty,” I told her, unable to stand it. This was bad enough. I didn’t want there to be more pain. Especially, if it was due to me being an asshole.

She swallowed, looking away as she nodded. “I just thought maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

“I want to still see you?”

My gaze went back to her crew. “Oh yeah? Because apparently you still have your job at the station. I’m pretty sure that’s still a problem since you’re letting them tell you what the fuck to do with your life.”

“We… I’ve missed you so much. I thought… Maybe, we can see each other? On the down low, you know?” She shrugged. “For now anyway.”

I stared at her, incomprehensible, my lips parted. I wanted to pull her into my arms so bad and kiss her until neither of us could breathe. To lift her against the grimy wall and get her filthy while I fucked the hell out of her, uncaring if anyone else saw, if they were all watching. I wanted them all to know Becca was mine.

I didn’t show that, though. Lips pressed in a hard line, I turned away and grabbed a shop cloth. Slowly, I wiped my hands, getting them as clean as possible, which wasn’t much, before I turned back to her.

“So, let me get this right. You want me to be your dirty little secret?”

“Heller…”

I was already shaking my head. “Because no. No to all of it.”

“Okay.” Her word was barely a whisper. She’d stiffened, her body going ram-rod straight while she drew in a breath. Her eyes shimmered, but she was refusing to let her tears fall. Good think for me. One drop and I’d be a goner. “Okay…” she repeated.

My own heart squeezed so tight I was in danger of staggering. I refused to look at her again. I’d already told her goodbye once. That would have to do.