Page 6 of Steel's Secret
The ring around my neck is warm from the work light. I press it between my fingers until the edges bite skin.
“Tama.” His name leaves my mouth like smoke. “Dad.” Thin and fading fast.
Outside, wind howls through the crack in the bay door. Snow rattles against the steel. The heater ticks, losing the fight against the cold.
I tell myself I’m fine. Just tired, but the truth is simpler. I can’t sleep because when I close my eyes, I still hear his laugh. And the echo doesn’t stop until the light comes back on.
The heater finally clicks off. The sound of silence is louder than the engine ever was.
I sit on the workbench with filthy hands, breath fogging in the cold, and tell myself I’ll go home in a minute. Just one more. Just after the next breath.
The lights hum overhead. The smell of fuel and oil has soaked into my skin. My body’s exhausted, but my mind’s running laps around shit I can’t bury. Secrets that won’t die.
I reach for a rag, wipe my hands, and stare at the cracks in my knuckles until the blood dries dark. The ring around my neck is the only thing that shines. The night’s long, and I’ve run out of things to fix.
My phone buzzes against the workbench. The sound cuts through the quiet like a shot.
Draft: Need you to look over the new property files. Aria’s helping with the legal side. She’ll drop them by this week.
Aria. The name hits like a match to gasoline. Six months, and I still see her every time I close my eyes. That look she gave me at the memorial, half heartbreak, half defiance.
I read the text twice, then set the phone down. My hands tighten on the edge of the bench until my wrists ache.
She shouldn’t come here. Not again. Not when I finally stopped waiting for the sound of her voice.
I grab the phone and open a new message.
Tell her not to bother. I’ll handle it.
My thumb hovers oversend.
I delete it and pour another drink from the bottle sitting behind the vise. Taking a long swallow, the fire crawls down my throat and settles like a lie.
The light above me flickers once, buzzing loud enough to shake the quiet. Shadows stretch across the floor, long and uneven. I watch them move, the whiskey warming my chest and nothing else.
Her name still burns behind my eyes. The past that won’t stay dead. The one secret I never wanted to keep.
The bottle tips in my hand. I set it down too hard, the glass ringing sharply in the silence.
I lean back against the bench, head tilted toward the ceiling, watching the light stutter overhead. The shop smells like oil and old fire, like him. Like her. Like everything I lost trying to be what he built.
My phone buzzes again. I don’t look. I already know who it’s from. And I already know I’m going to answer.
