Burn in Hail(28)

He walked out, a Red Bull in one hand, and his car keys in the other, when he came to a sudden halt when he didn't see his car.

"What the fuck?" I heard him growl.

My lips twitched as I finished up getting the car strapped up, which was about the time that he noticed me.

"That's my car!" he bellowed.

Down went the energy drink, and out came the gun.

I cursed, walking around the side of the truck, my sole purpose to get into the cab and get the hell out of there.

I would've accomplished it, too, had he not started toward me.

Except, when he started down the driveway toward me, the long length of the dog's chain had him tripping and hitting his knees.

I didn't wait for him to do anything else. I got the truck into drive and started accelerating down the street.

That didn't stop me from watching him in my rear-view mirror, though.

He went down hard.

The gun skittered across the concrete, but that didn't stop him from  picking up the chain and giving the chain a vicious yank in anger.

My foot was on the brake, something inside of me telling me to wait and  go back for the dog, but then I thought about how upset Hennessy would  be if I got shot over a dog that was probably already dead.

She may be mad at me, but she'd still be upset.

And regardless of what Travis told me to do, he'd never expect me to put myself in danger because of a job.

I cursed and slammed my hand down on the steering wheel. Then drove the  stupid fucker's car to the bond company, got my money for the  repossession, and drove back to the office to drop off the check.

All the while, though, I couldn't stop thinking about that dog, and whether he was okay.





Chapter 18


You better not pout. You better not cry. You better not scream I'm going in dry.

-Text from Krisney to Hennessy

Hennessy

I didn't watch for him to come home. No, I was in my living room,  perfecting the fold in my curtains, and not staring at the road as I  waited for my neighbor and ex-lover, as well as soon to be ex-patient,  to get home.

Nope, not me, Hennessy Hanes.

I snorted at that lie. Out of all the lies I told myself, the ones that came to Tate were always the worst.

That man had always done something to me, and I had no control over anything when it came to him.

So, there I sat, after finding out that the man had a child, thinking about everything that was wrong with this situation.

At least I'd found out that he didn't have a child on the way, but one that was already born. Years ago, as a matter of fact.

There was that, I guess.

Krisney had been more than happy to share that news with me via text message.

So yes, I was angry. I was sad. And I was heartbroken. I also most  certainly wasn't waiting by the front window to get a glimpse of him.

He'd looked terrible earlier.

I almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

Growling at myself and my inability to let Tate go, I threw the curtains  out of my hand and started to pace the length of my living room.

And, ten minutes later when I heard the first sound of my neighbor's truck pull down our street, I told myself not to do it.

Told myself to be strong. To go into my bedroom and possibly take a nap.

I knew it wasn't good for me to continue doing this to myself.

But did I do anything smart like that? Hell no, I didn't.

I went to the window and tried to surreptitiously look out at him, barely parting the curtains.

Only, he saw me.

Why?

Because he hadn't just pulled down our street, but he'd pulled into his  driveway, gotten out, and walked across the street before I'd gotten the  courage to look out at him.         

     



 

Now, instead of acting like I wasn't here like I was going to do, I had to answer the door because he knew I was home.

I cursed myself for my stupidity and walked to the door, opened it, and stared at him expectantly.

"You want to go steal a dog with me?"

My brows rose at that.

"There was a dog at the house I repossessed a car from today. He or she,  I'm not sure which, was skin and bones and I feel like an asshole for  leaving it there."

I thought about it for a moment.

Did I want to get into a vehicle with this man after the day I'd spent  worrying about him and what I should and shouldn't do about our  semi-relationship status?

But then I got a load of Tate's eyes, and immediately reached for my keys.

"Yeah," I cleared my throat. "Sure."

"If we take my bike, I might be able to get him faster than if I took  the truck," he paused. "You'll have to hold onto the dog … shit, that  won't work."

"We can take my car," I offered. "I need some gas, but as long as we stop at some point for it, then I think we'll be okay."

He pursed his lips in thought, and I started down the steps, knowing what his answer would be before he actually voiced it.

Walking up to my car, I opened it up and slid into the driver's seat, slamming the door closed.

Then I started it up, thankful when it didn't do that weird little whine that it'd been doing lately.

Tate slid inside, and immediately slid the seat back as far as it would go-which admittedly wasn't far.

I smiled and looked away, finding the sight comical.

My heart also hurt.

Having him this near me was doing something strange to my heart.

Especially now that I'd resolved myself to not having him.

It didn't matter that he may or may not have a kid. It didn't matter  that I'd found him someone else to see for the remainder of his time  needed in anger management. It also didn't matter that I was so in love  with him that it physically hurt to be sitting next to him.

What mattered was that I'd broken an ethical code. What mattered was  that, with the way his life worked, I wasn't going to be something  special. He'd already told me that he wasn't willing to change his life.

Plus, I wasn't willing to live with only half a man who wasn't willing to put me first.

I'd already done that-lived for another man.

My father had made sure that fairytale and reality were understood. This  was the real world, where real world things happened. Sometimes you  didn't get what you wanted. Sometimes your mother died, and left you  with a mad man. Sometimes, love wasn't in the cards.

"Turn left up here, and go about two miles until you see the old truck  on the right. Take the turn just after that," Tate said, interrupting my  morose thoughts.

"Okay," I said softly.

Too softly, apparently, because he said, "Did you hear me?"

I nodded my agreement.

"Why aren't you talking to me?" he asked.

Why wasn't I talking to him? I wasn't not talking to him. I just didn't know what to say at this point.

What did you tell the man that you loved that you weren't going to have  anything to do with him anymore? That you'd transferred his care to  another psychologist. That you'd called a realtor to find you a house  that was not only not in the vicinity of him, but was in a different  town entirely?

"I'm talking to you," I hedged. "I think I'm coming down with a cold."

The lie felt bitter on my tongue, but I didn't really want to talk to  him, even though I knew I would have to before the night was over.

He was acting like everything hadn't changed overnight. Like he didn't have a child to take care of now-a dying child at that.

I'd learned more over the last couple of hours since I'd been to the  diner. Krisney had done nothing but text me for the last four hours  about him, and at first I'd ignored them, but my curiosity had always  gotten the best of me. This time had been no different.

Although it was all just stuff she'd heard, I was fairly sure that it was true.

If it hadn't been, the look I'd seen on his face when he'd been talking to Ariya wouldn't have been there this morning.

It was kind of hard to hide pain like that.

"I'm sorry to hear about your child," I told him.

He looked over at me, studying the side of my face.

"You heard."

Not a question, a statement.

"Yes," I said. "The diner was all abuzz about it this morning. I'd, of  course, heard little bits and pieces about it earlier than today, but  I'd always written it off to the town gossips having some fun.  Apparently, you confirmed it today with her."         

     



 

"Hmmm," he rumbled.

"I'm sorry that she didn't tell you," I continued. "I feel terrible."

"Turn right there." He pointed.

I did.

"I mean, if you want to talk about it, I'm always here."

"Are you?"

I hesitated. "Yes."

"Funny you should say that," he said. "Because I got a call from another psychologist. A Dr. Joan McQuaid."

My stomach tightened at the lightness in his tone. Almost as if he were trying to control his temper.

"Yes," I licked my lips as I turned on my blinker and turned where he'd indicated. "About that … "

"I told you that I could handle it on my end, didn't I?"

I worried my lip and nodded. He had told me he'd get it handled.  However, I didn't want to chance him getting in trouble. I wanted to  make sure that he had it figured out, and if I were being honest … I was  scared. Still was scared, as a matter of fact.

My father had shown me that, despite what was on the outside, it was the inside that counted.