I bit my lip and looked away from the greasy guy who'd finally managed to pass us, letting my eyes take in the grass that was lining the trail that we were currently walking at a crawl-like pace on.
I'd been seeing that same greasy guy everywhere I went over the last few days.
"I don't know about that," I said to Brady. "He doesn't act like he likes me all that much."
"That's because you upset him. He doesn't know how to deal with the fact that his girl would have major surgery without telling him. Instead of taking his feelings into consideration, you dismissed them in an attempt to protect yourself from potentially being disappointed. You left him the day before in a good place, and the next day you totally disregarded anything he might have been feeling. How do you expect him to react?"
That was so true.
I would react much the same way, and I only had myself to blame.
I frowned down at my feet.
"When my Molly and I married, she never kept a single thing from me. Until the day she found out she had cancer."
That dropped between us like a two-ton elephant, and I had no clue what to say.
"She took that from me. Those hours that I would've sat by her side, she stole, thinking she was saving me from heartache." He sounded lost. "Had I known that she was getting treatment, I would've been at her side, holding her hand. By not telling me, she robbed me of that and that time we could have spent together. I would've done anything for her, but now she's gone, and I don't know who I am anymore."
Tears started to trickle down my cheeks.
"I'm furious. I want to yell and scream and curse. But I can't." He looked down at me. "You wanna know why?"
I knew why.
Because she was gone.
"I see you have your answer."
I did.
"Why are you crying?"
I looked up to find Sean standing there, waiting for me.
He'd dropped me off at the trail, just like he'd done the day before, and he ran in the opposite direction while we walked the short route.
Then he waited patiently for me to return before he drove me back to his dad's house and then left for the rest of the day.
He didn't always leave the premises. Most of the time he went over to his father's shop and worked on his project motorcycle either with his father or by himself.
I, on the other hand, was unsure of my welcome so I stayed where I was, bored to tears.
The one and only time I ventured out there to where he was, he'd totally ignored me.
I felt like I wasn't wanted, so I'd gone inside without saying a single word to him in ten whole minutes.
"Mr. Thorton was telling me about his marriage and his wife," I finally settled on. "It was sad."
His eyes took in my face, the tears still coursing down my cheeks, and then turned his attention to my walking companion.
"You need a ride home today?"
That question was directed at Mr. Thorton, not me. I wouldn't have a choice where I went.
I'd tried to leave.
Twice, in fact.
Both times I did, I found myself stopped before I could even get out of the driveway. Both times, Sean had dragged me back, even the second time when I'd waited until he was asleep with the lights off to try.
Though, I realized now, it was a mistake to ever think that Sean didn't have eyes in the back of his head, because he did.
It was obvious, even to me, that he had to have some eyes somewhere. Cameras, or a movement alarm.
Hell, I didn't know how I knew. I just did, and I didn't try to escape anymore. Not after being on the receiving end of his blank stare that told me without words that the next time I tried that, he'd spank my ass-fucked up bowels or not.
"No, son," Mr. Brady said. "But I'd love for you to put Butterfinger in my car. It hurts me to lift her sometimes."
I looked down at Butterfinger.
She was an overweight Rottweiler who clearly needed to go on a diet … yesterday.
"Sure," Sean said with so little enthusiasm I nearly laughed. "Can you unlock your truck?"
Mr. Thorton drove a small, thirty-year-old Nissan truck that clearly had been well taken care of. What hadn't been taken care of, though, were the tires.
Tires that even I knew that he needed. A woman who had no clue when it came to anything car-related.
Hell, the only time I knew something was wrong with my car was when the beeping or warning lights started to appear.
Mr. Thorton handed Butterfinger's leash over to Sean.
The moment Sean had the leash, Butterfinger dropped to her haunches and glared up at Sean.
"I don't understand what I did," he sighed. "I've never had a dog not like me."