My knees feel weak. “I need to sit down,” I mumble, and almost fall onto the chair. My phone starts ringing, but I ignore it. Placing my head in my hands, I let the truth spill from my lips. “I think I lost my job. This couldn’t have happened at a better time.”
“A better time would have been two years ago, babe. I’m sorry you’ve had so much to deal with.” My mom rubs my back in soothing circles. “Who the heck keeps calling you?” Mom asks after my phone rings for the third time.
“I don’t know.” I snort out a laugh. “I need to wash my face.” Mom rolls her chair back so I can rise from the couch.
I feel like crying all over again when I close the bathroom door. I tug my phone out of my pocket and see three missed calls from Winger. I open up my text app and tap his name.
Me:Thank you for giving me a job when no one else would. You will never know how much I appreciate it. I’m quitting, if I’m not already fired anyway.
Hittingsend is scary and fucking exhilarating. I turn my phone off right after. One, because I’m a chicken and I’m afraid of what he’s going to say, and two, because I’m worried he won’t say anything. I’ve realized over the past week, I’ve come to think of Wing as my friend. I don’t have many of those, and I’m sad to lose him as one, but something tells me we won’t be hanging out anytime soon.
I spend the rest of the afternoon with Mom. She’s in such a good mood, she agrees to go out to dinner with me, even knowing I’ll have to help her in and out of her chair to get into the truck.
She orders a glass of wine and offers me one. “No, I can’t.” I can feel how red my face is.
“Babe, you became an adult a while back,” she comments before hiding her mouth behind her glass and adding, “The guy over there is checking you out.”
I roll my eyes, not even bothering to look in the direction she indicated with her gaze. My mom is more boy crazy than I’ve ever been, even though I know she won’t date again. My dad died when I was five, and what I remember about him is amazing. My mom shares the same feelings and says no one else could ever live up to him, but she enjoys looking.
“Are you sure that’s your first one?” I tease, and the waiter returns to take our order.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell her as soon as I’m done ordering, and then I head to the washroom before our food comes.
When I pass the bar, I get a whiff of spicy leather cologne. It’s the same scent I smelled in my closet the other night. I turn to look for whom it could be coming from, but there isn’t anyone seated nearby.
My mom is wearing a wide smile when I return to the table. “Did you see him in the hallway?” She fans her face.
“What are you talking about?”
“He was right in front of you. You had to see him in the hallway.” She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“There was no one in the hall, Ma.” She makes a pouty face and looks past me as if she’s still looking for someone but doesn’t see him. Our food arrives shortly after, and she seems to forget about the man after another glass of wine.
It’s actually easier to get her into the truck after dinner. She’s all loose and happy. Most of the time, she tightens up and it makes it awkward to angle her into the truck. Once I join her in the cab, I look over at her and see she’s still wearing a soft smile.
“You could get yourself a van now, Ma, drive again if you wanted to.”
Her smile slips. That sobers her a little. “You can go to school now, Lucy. You’re not stuck taking care of me anymore.”
I reach over and take her hand. “I was never stuck, Mom. I don’t know how many times I can tell you this, but the ranch is all I ever wanted.”
“That’s only because you didn’t have any other options.” She leans her head back and closes her eyes, making it clear she doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. But she’s wrong. She mumbles something else, but it’s too hard for me to make out over the engine of the truck. I don’t think she intended for me to hear her anyway.
I trackher GPS to a chain restaurant about six miles from her house. My hands have been shaking since Winger got her text telling him she was quitting. Heaven help her and whomever she’s with at this little shithole. Things may get bloody.
I walk through the door, scan the room, and spot her immediately. She smiles across the table, and it takes me a minute before I can take my eyes off her—I don’t get to see her real smile often—and identify who she’s directing her grin at.
Her mother, thank fuck. She has long, thin dark hair, and her face is pretty, even for someone her age. She’s angled into the back corner in her wheelchair. I ignore the hostess and make my way over to the bar so I can watch her using the mirror above.
The bartender quickly approaches me, and she’s far too chatty for me. “Beer,” I order, interrupting her greeting. She pauses, her mouth still open, and then spins away to get what I asked for.
I dart my gaze up and see her. She’s faced away from me, so I feel comfortable turning to the side and watching her. Her mother takes notice of me after only a short time, but I’m not worried about her recognizing me.
I wasn’t thinking clearly when I came in here. My only thought was to find her. It’s a risky move coming in here after allowing her to see me at the club. I know just watching her isn’t going to be enough for much longer. I need to possess her, own her.
I take a gulp of beer, wishing I could light up a smoke. The bartender said something to me when she left it near my hand, but fuck if I paid attention. I peel a bill off my stack and continue to ignore everyone but the two women at the table. She looks happy, considering she just quit her fucking job. My skin crawls with the need to know why. I need to find out how the hell she’s going to pay her bills. If she thinks I would let her dance somewhere else, she’s dead fucking wrong.
She angles her body to the side after the waiter leaves, preparing to stand. I beat her to it, bypassing the short hall where the bathrooms are and stepping to the left where there’s another section of tables around the corner.
