Chapter 24
Garrett
The cot in my shop is hard, and not at all comfortable like the bed I had in the Carter guest house, not that I deserve to be comfortable.
The bills have been piling up for some weeks, though now there’s no avoiding them. About the only thing I can do at this point is start applying for positions in a factory. Something that won’t require a good credit score or degree. Ideally, I’d be able to use my mechanic certification, but there’s just not a lot of open positions.
Once upon a time, I had a profitable business. Something to be proud of. Now, all I have are problems.
What really irks me is that it wasn’t that I didn’t run my business well, or that I mismanaged my money. First, I had to take a loan out to help get Vicki into rehab. Then, well, she started stealing from my shop. Eventually, she started stealing from my customers. I couldn’t give her name up to the police on account that I want her to get better for her son, and for the most part, people knew it wasn’t me. They saw what I was going through, but that doesn’t mean they’re ever going to give me a second chance. I was never charged with anything, but I found myself having to pay back money I didn’t have. Now, I’m trying like hell to get out from underneath the avalanche of debt that’s burying me, and it’s become increasingly apparent that that’s never going to happen.
I press my eyelids closed, trying to conjure Ali’s stunning eyes, her coy smile, the curve of her hip. I breathe in deeply, trying to inhale her sexy aroma, a futile effort.
You were stupid enough to lose your head over a girl, and look where it got you.
I tell myself Ali is just like any other girl, that it was stupid to get involved with her, but the truth is, she was one-hundred-percent worth any risk, and not just because she’s a movie star.
She was fun, she made me forget about my worries, and, maybe most importantly, she made me feel whole.
Ever since the probability of losing my shop hit me, I’ve felt like less of a man—a complete and utter failure. Then, Ali showed up, bold, beautiful, and completely fixated on me. What man wouldn’t feel like a king?
And I fucked it all up.
Ya can’t fuck up something that never was. She was going back to Hollywood, whether you liked it or not.
I force myself out of bed, hit the voicemail button on my phone, and listen to a week’s worth of missed calls.
“You may be eligible for health insurance through—”
NEXT
“Mr. Flint, you are three months behind on—”
NEXT
“Your car’s warranty—”
NEXT
“Hello, Garrett, it’s me, Old Man Duncan. I just wanted to say thank you fer what you and yer boys did for me the other night. There’s a lot of rebuilding that needs to be done, but thanks to you guys, I’m not homeless. I wish there was some way I could make it up to you, I figured I’d start by calling. When things calm down a bit, I’d love to have y’all over to show my thanks.”
“End of messages.”
I smile, taking comfort in having done something right in my life.
After the accident that cost me my scholarship, I spent a few years aimlessly working small jobs. Then, I joined up with the fire department. It’s how Jake and I came to be so close. Once, during a call, he passed out in a building, and I was the one that dragged him out. The stubborn asshole glared at me the whole time he was coughing up a lung, but the next day, he invited me over to his house for a meal where his father and mother damn near bawled their eyes out thanking me for saving their son. He still glares at me, but we’re friends now. It was him that gave me the idea to go back to school to become a mechanic.
A knock sounds on the door, and I look up to see a remorseful-looking Irene.
“Here ta torture me?” I shout through the door.
“No, I was seeing if you could torture me.” She lets herself in and takes a seat. “It’s a two-person job.”
I sit on my cot, eyes glued to my hands. “So, I guess we broke some kind of sibling code.”
“Sibling code?”
“Don’t bang your sibling’s best friend.”
