“I knew you wanted him to,” she said as she turned to leave. “I’m always right, Wilder.” June waved over her shoulder as she opened the front door of the coffee shop and stepped into the hot, humid Atlanta morning.
She was always right. I did want him to email me back. Even if it meant I might have to resurrect some of my old ghosts.
JAX
I worried if Chuck had any sense at all. He’d rounded the corner faster than anyone in their right mind would have, causing the tools in the bed of the work truck to rattle. Hudson rolled down the passenger-side window and spit, the brown liquid coating the back window where I sat.
“You’re disgusting,” I hollered over the radio.
With Chuck in the driver seat, there was usually a washed-up rock band from the eighties spewing from the speakers. Today was no different. Hudson laughed and pulled a wad of chewing tobacco from his cheek, turning in his seat, he said, “Want some?”
“Throw that garbage out the window.” I refused to play into his bullshit.
Ignoring his antics, I focused on the green blur of scenery outside. Eventually, he turned around and stuffed the chew back into his mouth. Working with these guys everyday had started to wear on me. The stench of B.O. was overwhelming. It didn’t help that whatever Chuck had eaten for lunch smelled like rotten eggs. Add to that, all the sharp turns he’d been dealing out, it was no wonder my stomach was sick. At least that’s what I told myself. I didn’t want to think about the emails from last night. How I lied through my damn teeth just to get a glimpse of him, a taste of Wild again. That book he’d written. It had turned me inside out. Seeing us, through his eyes, seeing how I’d hurt him, it tore something open inside of me. Reaching out to him was stupid… but lying to him was unforgivable.
Wild had changed our story. His ending, more dramatic. Instead of me leaving, cutting him off like the coward I was, he’d created a hero. He’d renamed me, formed me into this brave and tragic character. Jake. A guy who’d finally come out to his abusive father. Jake chose Wild when I couldn’t. But in the end, after everything Jake had fought for, he’d died. Traveling to see him for winter break, Jake had been hit by a car while crossing some street in Atlanta. Reading Wild’s words, with every fiber, I wished the story was true. That I could somehow reverse time. I’d die on that corner if it meant I’d done right by him. Wild had always deserved better than me, but I was selfish, writing to him, lying, and choosing my own self-preservation over the truth. I was still in love with the boy who’d given me peace, even if it was in death. I was dead to him—both figuratively and literally—and maybe that’s how I should stay.
Chuck ran over a pothole and I almost hit my head against the window. “Jim’s gonna kick your ass if you fuck up his truck,” Hudson said, holding on to the dashboard.
“Jim ain’t gonna care as long as we get that house painted before Friday. I’m just trying to buy us some time.” Chuck smirked. “Besides, Jim Walker owns ten of these trucks.”
“Doesn’t mean he wants you to wreck this one. Just drive the speed limit,” I said, irritated at his blatant disregard for our boss and a paycheck. “You never know, he may dock your salary if you end up messing up an axle.”
Chuck’s face paled. “Shit, I didn’t think about that.”
The truck slowed and I laughed under my breath, pulling my phone from my pocket. I should’ve deleted the emails after I’d read Wild’s response, but I’d read his email about twenty times before I’d fallen asleep last night. Would it hurt to read it one more time? I knew the answer but ignored it anyhow. I opened up the email app on my phone, tapped the edge of my thumb on Wild’s message, and got caught up in his words a few more times before we pulled into the parking lot for Harley’s. Chuck and Hudson jumped out of the truck, and I followed behind, slipping my phone into my back pocket.
Ethan was behind the register and offered us a hello as we walked in. The guys didn’t acknowledge him, feeling bad for the guy, I gave him a smile.
“Hey, Jax.” His eyes were a light caramel today, his cheeks turning pink as I approached. He sure was a nervous guy. “Happy birthday… I’m a little late.”
Embarrassed by the attention, I rubbed the back of my neck. “Uh… thanks.”
“Your mom told me. I saw her at the bakery yesterday when she was buying your cake.” Ethan fidgeted, his long fingers tapping the side of the register.
“Did you make a wish when you blew out the candles, Jackie?” Chuck snickered, lifting a five-gallon bucket of primer onto the counter.
“I did… I wished for a co-worker who didn’t run his damn mouth so much.” I shook my head and left to grab a few more buckets of paint.
Being around Hudson and Chuck made me regret dropping out of school. I should have listened to my mom and transferred my credits to an online program. But I never would have made it into pharmacy school, and once my dad died, it no longer mattered. That had been his dream for me. I had no idea what I could do with a degree, but it sure as hell would be better than working with these jackasses in the blazing sun every day.
I grabbed two more five-gallon buckets and hauled them to the register. Ethan’s eyes trailed over my chest and arms, and I looked down to see if I had something on my shirt.
“Could you be more obvious, faggot?” Hudson’s deep voice curdled in the air.
“What the hell did you say?” I asked, that word like a hammer, as I dropped the weight of the buckets to the ground.
“He’s always checking you out, it’s fucking disgusting.”
Ethan’s cheeks flamed a tomato red, his expression more horrified than angered. The muscle in his jaw flexed and his eyes plummeted to the floor. A fury burned inside me, scorching my lungs, and awakening memories of the times when Wild had been harassed and mocked. It had cut him and hurt me too. He’d always stuck up for himself though, and I’d stayed silent. Silence was hate packaged in privilege.
“Don’t be a dick, Hudson.” I couldn’t stand up for Wild, or myself, but I wouldn’t be quiet anymore. I was sick and tired of the silence.
“What’d he do now?” Chuck asked, throwing a couple of paint rollers on the countertop.
“Not a damn thing.” Hudson squared his shoulders. “Just calling it like I see it.”
“What’re you talking about?” Chuck asked as we continued to ignore him.
I fixed my eyes on Hudson, taking a step toward him, I lowered my voice. “That shit you just said. It’s hateful. Shut your fucking mouth or I’ll shut it for you.”
He smiled like he’d figured something out, and the heaviness in my chest was almost unbearable. My pulse raced as he spoke. “Maybe you like him looking at you?” He glanced at Ethan. “Did you hear that, Ethan, I think Jax has a thing for pansies.”
Chuck laughed and pulled out his wallet. “Wouldn’t surprise me, giving up a sweet piece like Mary.”
“You need to mind your business.” I planted my hand hard into Chuck’s chest and he almost fumbled his wallet.
Eyes wide and fists clenched, he darted toward me. Hudson stopped him, laughing at the shit he’d stirred up. “As entertaining as all of this is, we have a house to paint… That is, if y’all still wanna get paid.”