Rebel North by J.B. Salsbury

Seven

Kingston

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” I say to Hayes as he glares at me from one of the million filing cabinets.

“You don’t see what the big deal is?”

I shrug. “Not really.”

His jaw hardens, and his nostrils flare.

I roll my eyes. Great, here we go. I know the storm that’s brewing, and I’m fully prepared for his fury.

“Are you stupid?” he says.

My molars slam together. Okay, maybe I wasn’t fully prepared.

“How did you graduate from Burton Prep without knowing your fucking ABCs, dumbass?” He motions to the files with an angry slash of his hand. “I can’t find the Montgomery file.”

I cross to him and quickly finger through the files, finding the one that says Montgomery. I slap it into his chest. “Who’s the dumbass now?”

His forehead gets redder as if the top of his head is about to blow. “M. O. Why is it down here with the Murry file?”

“It’s in the M section. God forbid you dig a little deeper.”

He slams the drawer closed. “If August didn’t insist on keeping you on, I would’ve fired you weeks ago.”

I shove my hands in my pockets and shrug. “That says a lot more about you than it does about me, brother.”

“Fuck off.”

“You first.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa…” Hudson comes sauntering into the file room with a casual and slightly entertained smile. “The love pouring from this room is beautiful.”

“You can fuck off, too.” Hayes pushes past his twin, and thankfully, the legion of evil spirits follow.

“What’s his problem?”

I fall back into the closest chair with a groan. “Like he needs an excuse to be a complete cockface?”

“Excellent point.” Hudson goes to one of the file cabinets and pulls open a drawer. “You doing okay?”

“Fucking fantastic.” I rub my eyes and swallow back the insecurity and feelings of inadequacy that wash in when I’m around my brothers.

Fact is, I’m nothing like them.

I was an outcast in this family at sixteen, and nothing has changed since.

He tucks the file he came to grab under his bicep and leans back against the wall of cabinets, studying me.

“What?”

A slow smile spreads across his face.

I run a hand through my hair. “You got something to say?”

“You’re unraveling a little bit.”

“Am not.”

He lifts his brows. “Dude, it’s okay to—”

“I’m not unraveling!” What does that even mean?

He holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m just calling it like I see it.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “Yeah, and what do you see, Theresa Caputo? Please share.”

“Who?”

“Seriously? The Long Island Psychic. The lady who talks to dead people.”

He shrugs.

“Forget it.”

“What’s up with you and that Gabriella chick?”

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

“You know how many women I’ve seen you invested in?”

“None. I never get invested.”

“Keep telling yourself that, bro.”

I will, fuck you very much.

“In the meantime, I’ll tell you what I saw last night.” His eyebrows raise. “Investment.”

“Not even close,” I say with my back to him so he can’t see my face. Apparently, the asshole really is some kind of psychic.

“Your defense only confirms—”

“You don’t know anything about me or my life.” I hold eye contact, and he smirks, which just pisses me off more. “I’m not into Gabriella. I don’t even like her.” Lies lies lies. “Maybe it’s time you find a woman to settle down with so you’ll stop meddling in other people’s relationships.”

“Ah ha!” He points at me. “So you admit you’re in a relationship.”

“What? No. You need to… I… fuck it.” I slam my lips together and storm out of the room.

Rather than go back to my closet in Hayes’ office, I head to the elevator. I punch the lobby button and fidget like I’ve got a million butterflies under my skin. I walk to Central Park and find a bench with a view of the cherry blossoms.

I want to get on a plane and disappear for a month. Sit on some white sandy beach sipping umbrella drinks with a tan, bikini-clad stranger at my side. As soon as the image forms in my head, I rebuke it. And I refuse to think too hard on why.

One thing Hudson is right about? I’m different when Gabriella is around. She understands the burden of my life better than any of my trust-fund friends. I’m deep in the friend zone, which is the safest place to be. She thinks I’m gay, so there’s no way a romantic relationship would develop. There’s no harm in spending more time with her. She’s offered to be my wingman.

Text me if you need me.

I roll my phone around in my palm. I know I’m weak. Working at North Industries has brought me to a new low.

One month ago, I wouldn’t have found myself in this position, but here I am, unlocking my phone and punching out a text message.

I hit send and lean forward with my head in my hand.

If she ghosts me, I’ll block her number and move on with my life.

Ignoring me would be better for us both.

Gabriella

I need you.

I read Kingston’s text message for the hundredth time today, smiling like an idiot. Literally, my cheeks hurt.

He needs me. Why does that feel so good?

A heartbroken sniffle comes from the opposite side of Mr. Humphries’ bed, where his daughter Paige glares at me. “I’m glad someone in the room is happy,” she says and sobs.

Oops. I shove my phone into the pocket of my scrubs and wipe the grin from my face. “I’m sorry. I’m not happy you’re losing your father.” Shit. “It’s just…” I clear my throat. “Death isn’t the end as much as it is a beginning.”

“I’m not religious.” She swipes at her nose. “I don’t believe in all that crap.”

“Well, you don’t have to be religious to believe that there’s something more, something bigger out there.”

Her glare tightens. “There is something bigger. It’s called the circle of life. We become worm food, go back into the earth, and that’s it.”

“You know,” I say and pick up Mr. Humphries hand that’s quickly turning cold and clammy, “I’ve been to the other side.”

She sniffs and dabs tissue at her eyes. “You have?” Her gaze darts to my scars.

“Yes. My heart stopped beating for six and a half minutes. I saw this glowing light, felt a sense of peace and rightness, and I swear I saw my dog Peaches, who died when I was twelve, running toward me before I was pulled back.”

“Back?”

“Into this body. This life.”

She blinks down at her father. “Is that true?” A tiny smile tilts her lips. “His dog Ollie died last year. It broke his heart.”

“See? Imagine that reunion. There is a reason to smile.”

She nods, and her expression becomes more peaceful.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” I turn my back to them and breathe out a sigh of relief.

I can’t believe I was so insensitive to smile like a lunatic while a daughter is saying her final goodbye to her dad.

All because some handsome guy needs me.

Dammit, I’m smiling again.

I head to the break room, grab a Diet Coke, and get comfortable so I can compose my response.

Dear Kingston…

Nope, too formal.

Yo.

Ugh… No. Delete.

Wassup

No. My gosh, just be myself.

I take a deep breath, text, and hit send before I can overthink it.

“Someone’s happy to see me.” Evan takes the seat across from me, and his foot brushes up against mine beneath the table. “What’s going on?”

“Just having a good day, that’s all.” Still smiling.

“People dying, loved ones crying, and you still manage an upbeat attitude.” His brown eyes sparkle a little. “I like that about you.”

I feel my face heat at his friendly flirtation.

He lifts his chin, and I feel his Nike brush softly against my Croc. “We should hang out sometime.”

Um… what? “Really?”

He’s never asked me out before. Don’t jump to conclusions.

I’ve had two men ask me out in the last three years. First, there was David, who asked me to a movie, but when I got there, he had his brother Charlie with him. Charlie had burns up the left side of his body from falling into a fire pit years before. I guess David was trying to set us up. The second date I had was with a guy I met at a coffee shop. He asked me to a play. Turns out, it was his daughter’s fifth grade play, and he wasn’t exactly divorced yet.

“All right. You need me to help you pick out furniture or buy a suit or something?”

He throws his head back and laughs. “Those don’t sound like date-worthy activities.”

“You’re asking me out on a real date?”

“I am.” He tilts his head. “Does that surprise you?”

I cross my arms at my chest. “A little. As long as we’ve worked together, you’ve never asked me out before.”

“I am now.”

“Okay.”

He grins kind of crooked, and it’s endearing. “That’s a yes?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. This weekend work? I get off at two on Saturday, and you have the day off.”

“You scouted my schedule before asking me?”

“A man needs to be prepared.”

“Saturday works.”

“Great, I’ll pick you up.”

“How about I pick you up.”

“Modern day woman.” His expression softens. “I like it. Seven o’clock?”

“Perfect.”

“I’ll text you my address.” Another brush of his foot against mine, and he leaves.

I look down at my phone and see a new text from Kingston. An address followed by the words see you tonight.