Page 52 of Hurricane Love

“He’s worried about Hannah. Emma started a GoFundMe for her to get her own place or whatever else she might need. It’s up to five hundred dollars already.”

“Wow, that’s awesome. She could use the money. I love those guys. And thanks for handling Fuckface. She’s going to stay here with me for a bit. There’s something else we should talk about but not right now.”

“Okay,” Diego said with a twinge in his gut. The phrasing sounded ominous, and he wondered if Wylie was thinking about calling things off–it would serve him right for his wishy-washy behavior. Still, to not have Wylie in his life at all would…hurt.

“Also, I have a favor to ask,” Wylie said.

“Anything,” Diego responded immediately.

“I need to go over there and get her and Kayla’s things. I don’t want Hannah to come with me, and I don’t want to do it alone.”

There was no way Diego would let Wylie go over to Brian’s place without backup. “I’m off today. I can help you get her stuff. He might get violent. He definitely wants to beat your ass,” Diego warned. He really couldn’t afford assault and battery on his record. A charge like that would land him right back in prison.

“I think he’d like to, but I’ve got a plan for that. I’m going to borrow a truck and I’ll be over in an hour or so to get you. Cool?”

“Yeah, I’ll be ready.”

The plan,as Diego learned a little while later, was to get Brian’s mom Denise involved. They were both hoping Brianwould be at work, it being a weekday and all, but no such luck. His dented pickup truck was parked haphazardly in the driveway, the overgrown grass in the yard having gone to seed. They hung back a bit until they saw Brian’s mom pull up to the curb in a small sedan. They exchanged a brief greeting with Denise before Wylie headed toward the front door. He had to practically beat the thing down before a stumbling, bleary-eyed Brian appeared, leaning against the door jamb and glaring at them viciously in the morning light.

“The fuck do you want?” Brian snarled. He was shirtless with his pants still undone, and he and stank of BO and sour beer.

“We’re here to get Hannah’s stuff,” Wylie said simply, though his eyes had a certain murderous intent behind them.

“The fuck you are. Get off my property or I’ll beat your ass.” Brian’s bloodshot gaze shifted over to Diego. “Both your asses.”

Diego doubted it would be possible for Brian to beatboththeir asses, but they didn’t get the chance to test that theory because the small, spitfire of a woman behind them pushed through them both and said to Brian, “Boy, you really done screwed up this time.”

“Mom?” Brian asked, as if in disbelief.

“Get your sorry ass out of the way, so these boys can take care of business. I warned you about the drinking and your temper, but you just went on and ruined the one good thing in your life. And you’d better not fuck upmyrelationship with Hannah or my grandbaby. Now go put a shirt on and get your ass out here. We’re going to Denny’s to sober you up and discuss some things.”

Brian ducked back inside with a petulant growl, slamming the door behind him, then came out a few minutes later with his shoulders slumped and a ball cap pulled low on his head. He said nothing to either of them as Denise took him by the arm and dragged him toward her car, muttering curses the whole way there.

“Fucking asshole,” Wylie grumbled before entering the home. It looked recently upset, with a floor lamp turned over and someof the furniture knocked about, possibly from whatever fight he’d had with Hannah. Diego didn’t want to imagine it. Crumpled fast food wrappers and several empty cans of beer littered the surfaces. There were also a couple fist-sized holes in the drywall, clearly places where Brian had thrown a punch. What an immature asshole. The place had bad vibes—misery and sadness—even Diego could tell. Hopefully Hannah never went back.

Wylie laid out the game plan while Diego started building the boxes they’d picked up from the pit. They’d pack clothes, toys, bedding, and any small appliances Wylie didn’t have already. The furniture was mostly second-hand and wouldn’t fit in Wylie’s trailer, and Hannah had said she didn’t want it anyway.

This wasn’t the time for a serious conversation, and they didn’t want to still be here when Brian returned, so Diego put his head down and got to work. Almost two hours later, they had cleared out all signs of Hannah and Kayla from the home, everything neatly packed and labeled in the back of Wylie’s borrowed pick-up truck. Wylie left Hannah’s key on the counter and locked the door behind him with finality. He’d shown restraint the whole morning but as they left, he muttered, “Good fucking riddance,” then spat on the concrete stoop with hardly a backward glance.

“How’s she doing?” Diego asked once they were back in the cab of the truck and on their way to the Village.

“She’s sad. Blaming herself. Crying a lot. Probably depressed. When I left them, they were watching cartoons on the couch, which is good. She needs some time to heal.”

“She’s lucky to have you,” Diego said.

“Yeah, wish she’d listened to me sooner, but it seems people don’t like to take me seriously. No idea why.”

Clearly, that was in reference to the other morning. Diego wanted to explain himself, or try to, but they were already pulling into the trailer park where there was a crew waiting to help them unload. They stacked the boxes inside Wylie’s cramped living room then had a quick lunch that Nancy and Hannah had prepared. Then Wylie set to packing up all of his clothes, books,and toiletries into plastic storage bins to make room for Hannah’s things.

“Where are you going to fit all this?” Diego asked as the bins began to pile up.

“So, that’s the something I wanted to tell you.” Wylie paused there, amid the commotion of packing and people passing back and forth. “Let’s go outside for a minute.” He grabbed a couple drinks from the fridge and dragged Diego to the side of the trailer where there was a spot in the shade. He took out his vape and had a few puffs, his general warm-up to a serious conversation.

“Hit me with it,” Diego said, because the suspense was starting to get to him, and if Wylie was going to end it with him, he wanted it to be as quick and painless as possible.

“Okay, so, I found out yesterday that I got into UF,” Wylie said, staring at him somberly as if he were sharing the worst news ever.

The initial relief at not being dumped was palpable, followed by what felt like a punch to the gut, though it shouldn’t. Diego knew this would happen–it had been one of his reasons for not wanting to get serious with Wylie in the first place. Even still, it took him a moment to compose himself and put on a happy face. “That’s great, Wy. When do you start?”