Page 99 of Detour

Satisfied with the rug, I look up to Angela’s door, surprised there’s not a permanent imprint of my knuckles in the metal. My hand twitches at my side. Shaking my head, I move for the stairs. I already begged at her fucking feet tonight and look where that got me.

I mount my bike and shoot off into the veil of night. The ruthless fist that has my heart in its vise-like grip starts to loosen as I lay on the gas, giving it my all. I haven’t been able to fully breathe all week, waiting for the sweet relief only Angela brings. The smallest amount of air filters in my aching lungs and I greedily gasp for more as I fly down the quiet roads. I’m panting as I round my first corner, making for a sloppy turn and I wobble from my mistake.

Fuck, that was close.

I keep to straight roads after that, fighting to even out the spurts of oxygen being sucked in through my cracked lips. Staying up late every night to perfect the design for the new shop has wreaked havoc on my body and it’s showing. The guys barely even let me come into work. Not wanting to sit at home with the reminder of what I’ve lost in plain sight, I’ve begun driving around for hours on end, searching for the best spot for our new venture. Finally finding one this afternoon, I dragged the guys out to see it for themselves before revealing the newly finished draft. The proposal was a hard sell, like I knew it would be, so I pulled out my secret weapon—Joaquin. After the initial shock that I’d even consider going into business with Marc’s overbearing dad, they saw the potential the collaboration offered. New businesses start and fail daily. We knew this going in, but searched for the exact thing to set us apart from the rest. The thing that would keep us up and running for years to come. And not just surviving but thriving.

With Joaquin’s farm being the huge success it is, and continuing to steadily grow, if we could land him as a client then others would surely follow. Ours being the only mechanic shop with a car wash as well, we’d be able to meet all our clients’ needs in one fell swoop. Farmhands drive a variety of vehicles and we could service and wash all of them with ease.

Their eyes started to open the more I talked and soon we were spit-balling other ideas so fast I had to write them down to keep track. The one issue that kept coming up was Angela. I nodded absently each time they mentioned her, even as the pain in my chest intensified. Only when the sympathy in their eyes began outweighing their concern, I closed the conversation down, claiming I had somewhere to be. And I did. I had a girl to win back.

The doormat seemed like a brilliant idea at the time. A way to let her know that whether we were together or not she still had a home she would always be welcome in. I didn’t anticipate the gesture to backfire the way it did though. Her saying she was moving had all my bones feeling like molten lava, burning me from the inside out while simultaneously dissolving my entire being into a puddle of agony.

I just wish she would talk to me, tell me what changed. I can’t fix what I don’t know. It won’t stop me from trying, damn it. Everyone in her life has abandoned her so she expects it from me, too. The problem is she has no idea how deep I already am. I’m barely breathing as it is and I’m still willing to go deeper. I’d dive into a bottomless abyss for Angela, easily. There’s nothing shallow about my love for her and I refuse to give up until she knows it, feels it with every part of her existence, and only then will I walk away if that’s what she chooses. It’ll be hard and hurt like hell but I can offer her that respect. The kind that no one else ever has by letting her decide her fate instead of forcing some whack predisposed notions on her.

I decide to stroll by the vacant lot and put this expensive camera to use. We’ll need everything perfected before approaching Joaquin, but I’m confident once we do, we’ll win him over. Compared to Angela, hard-headed Joaquin might be the easier of the two to persuade but I’m not backing down from either, no matter the low odds.

After filming the site from every angle, I turn back toward home. Knowing Angela is there alone while the guys are out makes me uneasy and I want to be there should she need anything. Not that I expect her to ask for it, but still. It’s like a piece of me has willed itself to her, allowing me to only feel whole again when she’s near. The hollow hall between us is bad enough, but it’s a hell of a lot better than what I’m feeling now. My heart is practically pleading to go back, so I do.

* * *

Something’s wrong. I don’t know how I know, but I do.

I dart my eyes around for the threat, recognizing it immediately. The Ford. His Ford.

Even though I’m in a public space, I lay on the gas, reaching the spot faster than usual. He only rolled by like a creeper before, but now the dude’s parked. That means he’s either on his way up to Angela or he’s already there.

Shit.

I scramble off my bike, loosening my helmet in the process and tucking it under my arm in case I need to use it. I’m not taking any chances. Running to the stairs, I take them two at a time until I hear voices. One low with malice, one rising in alarm.

Fuck.

I soften my steps, listening.

“This is too much, even for you. You need to leave. Now.”

“Angela, let me in so we can talk. I think you’ll like what I have in mind.”

My jaw grinds to the point of pain, but I block it out.

Angela scoffs. “Are you out of your mind, Joe? You can’t show up here. This is where I live. If you wanted to talk to me, maybe you should’ve let me work this week instead of taking all my hours away.”

She hasn’t worked this week? My eyebrows plummet. I’ve been so caught up in my own misery, I completely disregarded what she must’ve been going through. This jackass is throwing his weight around, probably as punishment for what we did to Steve. No wonder she thinks she should move; we’ve caused her too much trouble as it is.

“That’s why I’m here now, so we can figure something out that benefits both of us. We both know you need the money. Stop acting like you’re not interested.”

There’s a grunt then I’m moving again. A gasp has me sprinting up the last few stairs. Rounding the baluster, I find the immoral boss himself with one hand against the door, pushing to get in while Angela’s frantic eyes find mine. Joe notices, relaxing his arm. Angela uses this time to block the door with her body even more.

“What’s going on, Angela?”

I stare daggers at the bastard refusing to even glance my way.

“I was just saying goodbye.” Her voice firms as does her posture.

Good girl.

My girl.