“Hell, no. All I’m saying is this is a chance to think about what you want out of life. About what makes you happy. Life’s too fucking short to settle for anything less.”
I already know what would make me happy. That’s the problem.
“Thanks, Jake. Talk to ya later.”
“Travel safe.”
Coop ended the call and tossed his phone onto the passenger seat. He stared at the road ahead, but all he could see was her face. All he heard was her voice.
Ask me again, Sean.
His fingers tightened around the leather steering wheel.
What do you want from me?
His knuckles turned white.
Does the why really even matter?
“Fuck!” Coop slammed one palm against the wheel so hard, the truck started to jerk sideways.
With both hands back on the wheel, he regained control and forced himself to calm down. Getting in a wreck sure as hell wasn’t going to make things any better.
Maybe a couple of weeks away will.
Hopeful some time away would do him some good, Coop turned onto the road leading to his apartment complex. It was a new development, only a few years old, and on the outskirts of the city.
Not too far from R.I.S.C.’s downtown office, but far enough away he could go outside without hearing a bunch of traffic or sirens. Coop liked it here because he was able to experience a tiny bit of the quiet he got while on the farm.
Driving down the tree-lined road, he spotted a car off the side with its hood up and flashers blinking. A man was standing in front with his head buried beneath the raised hood.
Keep driving.
But even as he thought it, Coop lifted his foot off the gas pedal. It was late, and there was no one else around. He wanted nothing more than to go home, take a long, hot shower, and sleep this shitshow of a day off, but he couldn’t leave the poor guy stranded without at least offering to help.
With half his mind still stuck on Mac and his crushed heart, Coop pulled his truck to a stop in front of the man’s car. Leaving it running, he got out and walked over to him.
“Need a hand?”
With a flashlight in one hand and what looked like maybe a phone in the other, the guy didn’t turn around. Still tinkering with whatever he was working on, he said, “That’d be great. Damn thing stopped running, but I can’t figure out why.”
The man’s Texas accent was thicker than normal for this region, making Coop think he was probably passing through.
“Let me take a look. I’m no mechanic, but I’ve worked on my fair share of cars.”
“Thanks, man.” The guy scooted over to make room. “I really appreciate you stopping. I would’ve called for a tow, but my phone died a few miles back, and I left my charger at the hotel. I was going back to get it when this happened.”
Using the flashlight on his phone to get a better look, Coop jiggled some of the hoses to check their connection. Nothing jumped out at him, so he looked a little deeper.
“Sounds like you’re having about as good a day as I am,” he muttered to the other man.
“One of those, huh?”
With his head still down, Coop nodded. “You could say that.”
“That sucks, man.” He moved a few feet away from him. “Especially since it’s about to get a lot worse.”
It took a couple of seconds for the words to resonate in Coop’s pre-occupied mind, and that the last part of what he’d said came out without even a hint of a southern accent.
