I scan the street desperately but only see shuttered storefronts and dark windows. As I stumble through a prayer, I can’t help but laugh at what Dad would think of all of this. I can picture his tanned brown face and laughing blue eyes as he shakes his finger at me.
“Plans made in haste, my little Becca, are doomed to fail.”
Dad was big on plans. I used to be too. Funny how losing everything you love in a matter of months changes you. Now? Well, I can’t summon more than a little bit of panic.
A wet giggle of relief slips out as I see a sign in the distance “Brash Auto.” Thank you, Baby Jesus, Buddha, and all the others. My car makes a terrifying chugging/coughing sound before the engine stops. I’m traveling down the street in near silence, the sound of my tires rolling on the asphalt the only thing I hear over my panting breaths.
“Just a little farther. C’mon, car. You can do it.”
It feels like it takes a year to roll to a stop in the garage’s parking lot. My celebration is cut short when I see it’s locked up tight. Of course it is. Why would they be open this late? I still head over to the door and try the handle.
It’s locked.
“Well, fuck.” I huff out a breath, making my bangs flutter, and take stock of my surroundings.
The night is quiet, only a few cars passing. Around me are more shuttered industrial buildings, and I don’t see a single person. The hairs on the back of my neck are laying smooth, though, bringing me a small bit of comfort. My options are limited. I know I could leave my car here and call for a ride, but I hate the idea of leaving everything I have left here without me. Plus, I really can’t afford it. It’ll be morning before I know it, and I’ve slept in less comfortable places. I nod as I sort through my options, convinced my plan is the right one. I’ll stay here.
I pull my fleece blanket out of the back seat, then crawl back into the driver’s and cover myself up. The night is chilly, but thankfully the last hints of winter are gone.It could be so much worse, I tell myself as I recline my seat as far as I can.
“I’ll be fine, and I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
I would almost believe it if not for the exhausted tears escaping my closed eyes.
2
KADE
Ransom’s gritty voice over the Bluetooth fills the cab of my truck. “You’re wearing yourself out, Kade.” He always sounds like he’s been chewing on glass, but tonight his voice is rougher than usual.
“We’ve been over this, man,” I mutter as I turn into the industrial area, my shoulders relaxing. I know every building, every crack in the fucking sidewalk here. The familiarity is soothing.
“Yea, we have. We talked about it a year ago. And six months ago. And last week, for that matter.” I hear the frustration in his voice. “Fuck, man, you can’t keep doing this.”
He’s right. I know he’s right. But I just can’t seem to change anything. It’s really fucking stupid to be clinging to this little corner of the world when I already own a much bigger one. But leaving here? Leaving everything I know? It’s un-fucking-thinkable.
“I don’t think I can do it, Ran.” I’m uncomfortable admitting it. But I know he already gets it, maybe even more than I do.
His voice slows, gets deeper. “I know how much that place means to you. It’s where everything started for us.” His sigh echoes in the dark of my truck. I can hear his frustration with me, and it fucking guts me. I never want to disappoint him, but I feel like that’s all I’ve been doing lately.
“Kade,” he continues, “your job is to oversee the operations of all of our garages, not just one. You have a big fucking corner office here with me and a pile of work to do. But keeping the Knight Street location as your office man, running that office too? That’s fucking crazy. Hell, it was crazy five years ago. Now? With the way we’re growing? You’re a damn lunatic.” He pauses. “Jonas says you’re still handling the books yourself. He says you’re being inefficient.”
I can hear the smile in his voice as he repeats Jonas’s words. Of course, Jonas would use the word inefficient. Nothing offends him more than inefficiency. He’s been hounding me to get our expensive custom garage software set up in the shop for years.
I laugh despite myself. “It bothers him so much, Ran. He’s been talking about coming to do it himself. I only get him to back off when I remind him that there’s actual dirt here.” Ransom’s rough chuckle bounces through me. He finds Jonas’s quirks as entertaining as I do.
Ransom’s chuckles die down, “We all have a lot of history there, man. Lots of memories, both good and bad. But Brash Auto corporate needs you. I need you, man.”
Ah, shit. There it is. The bastard knows I’d take a fucking bullet for him. We all would. And I know he’d do the same for any of us. I rub my gritty eyes, having only one card left to play. “I can’t leave Micah. You know he needs one of us close.” There’s no way he can argue with that. It’s a fact.
“I’ll figure something out for Micah. He’ll be okay, Kade. I’ll make sure of it. But right now, he’s not the one I’m most worried about.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and roll my shoulders as he continues quietly. “You look like shit, man. You’ve fallen asleep at the last four family dinners, and you’re losing weight. Keep this up, and we’ll be in suits at your fucking funeral within a year.”
His voice gets quieter. Deeper. It’s his ‘try me, motherfucker’ tone.
“This ends now, Kade. You have one month to shift operations to head office. Handle your shit. I will not lose you to fucking stupidity. Not after I’ve spent the last twenty years keeping you safe.”
I pull my truck up in front of the Knight Street Garage and shift into park, laying my head against the headrest and closing my eyes.
