Yeah, I’m making up an excuse to take a half day today, but there’s nothing pertinent that needs to be done. I haven’t used a single one of my sick days or any vacation time, picked up other people’s slack when they’ve left us in a lurch, and covered Holcomb’s lazy ass formonths.He simply rolls his eyes and shoos me out the door, effectively dismissing me as no longer worth his energy to bother speaking with.
“You know what?” At my cold tone, he glances up with an annoyed twist to his lips, and I’m just... so fucking over it. “I’m not doing this anymore. I quit.”
Giving him my back, I swing by my desk, stuffing the few things I care about from my drawers into my purse and leaving the rest behind. I don’t bother saying goodbye to anyone else on the floor; they would only be interested in why I’m leaving for the sake of gossip, not because they care. Striding straight into the elevator, I aggressively smack the button for the ground floor. On the way down, I hastily use the reflection from the metal doors to fix my eyeliner, finishing up as they begin to open. Marching out across the lobby, I withdraw my ID badge and toss it onto Hugo’s desk, not that the security guard even looks up from his phone to register my presence.
The summer heat blasts me in the face as I type Byte-Ware’s address into my phone, bringing up a map. With as backed up as traffic is, there’s no point hailing a cab. Power walking, I quickly memorize my route before tucking my phone back in my purse, upping my pace to a jog.
“Aww, you came to join me for lunch today, beautiful?” the guy from the construction field calls, and I keep jogging without acknowledging his existence. “Knew you couldn’t stay away.”
“Sabrina?” Slowing to a walk, I turn to see Cinjin pulling up to the curb on a sleek, silver and crimson motorcycle. Pulling off his helmet, he looks me over with a frown. “You alright?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry, I don’t really have time to chat right now or I’m going to be late.”
Starting to walk again, I cringe as the asshole off to my right calls out, “If you’re gonna leave, at least start running again and give us a good show!”
“I can give you a ride,” Cinjin offers, though it’s more of a demand than a request as he glares at the men sitting on a stack of lumber while eating their lunch and harassing people for kicks, murder in his eyes.
“Traffic like this, I’m probably better off on foot. I need to get halfway across town in the next twenty minutes.”
A wicked gleam lights up his pale blue eyes, offering me his helmet. “Then we better quit wasting time arguing.”
Biting my lip, I cave. He’ll at least be able to get me a few blocks closer if nothing else, and I can run the rest of the way. “Alright, thanks.” Slipping the helmet over my head, I climb on behind him, tucking the hem of my dress under my ass to try and save the people behind us from getting flashed. I’m acutely aware of my bare legs, flinching away from a hot spot that threatens to burn my ankle. “If we wipe out, you get to pick the rocks out of my mangled flesh though, heads up.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he teases. “Where are we headed?”
I rattle off the address and band my arms tightly around his stomach as he pulls away from the curb to merge into traffic. The wind whips wildly around us as he weaves in between cars with zero hesitation. I clamp my eyes tightly shut, each sudden rush of air from a car flying dangerously close to my side or blaring horn enough to make me regret taking him up on the offer.
A gloved hand pats mine over his stomach in reassurance before he leans into a sharp turn that has me tensing in panic. Several close calls later he finally slows down, and I manage to pry my eyelids open as he pulls into a parking garage. The breath I seemed to hold the entire ride rushes from my lungs, though I don’t slacken my stranglehold in the slightest. When he pulls into an empty spot and shuts off the bike, my muscles are locked in place, not letting go.
Chuckling, he prys a hand off of his stomach, keeping hold of me until I’m standing on two feet again, legs still trembling from the vibrations. “You good?”
“Yep,” I reply too quickly, and he laughs even harder. Taking off the helmet, I pass it back to him. “I really appreciate it. Pretty perfect timing.” Dismounting, he sets the helmet on the handlebar and joins me, much to my confusion. “What are you doing?”
He throws an arm around my shoulders and I tense. If he notices, he doesn’t comment on it. “After the way that jackass was giving you a hard time? Bo would beat my ass if I didn’t make sure you got to wherever you’re going safely.”
The tension ebbs from my shoulders as we cross the parking garage, searching for a stairwell or elevator. “You really don’t need to go through the trouble, I’m sure you have better things to do.”
“Better than playing white knight to a pretty girl? You and I have very different versions of a good way to spend the day,” he declares with a snort. I squirm under his arm, unsure if he’s just a natural flirt or if he’s trying to shoot his shot before I get involved any deeper with his brother. “So, what are we doing here?”
“Long story short? I scored an interview and quit my job, so I can’t afford to be late or fuck this up.” Finally finding our way, we climb into the elevator, and I hit the button for the highest floor it offers.
He whistles low, the sound reverberating ominously in the metal box. “Pretty bold move. Most people wait until they have something lined up before putting in their notice.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I fish out my phone to check the time. “Yeah, I know. It was a heat of the moment thing. I’ve been miserable there for years and trying to get a call back from somewhere for months. Never missed a day, always go above and beyond while plastering on a smile for the boss that treats us like shit. So when I told him my grandma was in surgery and he responded with ‘no point going to the hospital until you see if she comes out of it alive’, it was the last straw. Even if I tank this interview, I wouldn’t have been able to look at him again without throwing a punch, so I’ll work wherever to get by until something better comes along.”
“Fuck, is she okay? What happened?” All teasing air disappears in the face of his genuine worry that I hastily wave off.
“Oh, she’s been dead for a decade, it was the principle of the matter.”
He bursts into laughter as we exit the elevator, following the signs on the wall until reaching the security desk blocking access to the main building. “Then yeah, fuck that noise. Worst case scenario, if you can cook or clean, I can talk to Slade about hiring you at the house to get you by until you find a job you like better so you don’t have to panic about bills.”
No ‘you can just move in with us when your ass becomes homeless for making such a shortsighted, idiotic decision.’ I may not have any interest in playing housekeeper to the family of the guy I’m potentially dating, but at least it’s a fallback plan so I don’t have to starve and sob myself to sleep for fucking up.
I was raised to be absolutely independent in all things so that I’d never be forced to rely on someone. And while I appreciate the skills I gained from my mom’s paranoia, it’s been... hard. And lonely. I don’t have any intention of actually taking him up on the offer, but simply knowing that there’s a safety net in place does wonders to ease the pressure of nailing this interview so that it’s less life and death, and more normal anxiety.
I’ll be okay.
Having people to lean on when things are hard isn’t a sign of weakness, it shows you’ve surrounded yourself with good people. That’s what family is supposed to be; there for you when you need them. Not people that dump you in the middle of nowhere and call it tough love to help you become resourceful.
