Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 108862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“Rich customer?” Wyatt’s eyes snap to mine.
“Forget it,” I grunt.
“Mr. Bellamy came by the auto shop?”
Joel snaps his fingers. “Shit, I forgot! That guy mentioned you, Wyatt! It’s what almost set Diego off!” He laughs. “Nothing bad. He just said somethin’ about—”
“What’d you say to him?” Wyatt asks me, cutting him off.
I frown. “What makes you think I said something to him?”
“Everything I know about you.”
“I didn’t do shit but fix his car. And I fixed it right. Better than he’d have gotten it fixed anywhere else.” I frown. “You think I’d sabotage his car or something?”
After a second, Wyatt shakes his head. “Of … Of course not.”
“You hesitated.”
“You’d never do something unethical like that. I know. I … But you …” He frowns. “You had to have done or … or said something. You wouldn’t have just been nice to a guy like him. I know you.”
“Do you?”
He steps back, looking me over. For a second, he looks hurt I’d ask that. Then indignant. Then confused.
Joel, looking desperate to diffuse the tension, puts a hand on either of our shoulders. “Listen, pals. If there’s anything I know, all it takes is one rat bastard in our lives to make us all fight for days. We’re here to play pool and take a load off, right?”
“What’d you say to Grant?” asks Wyatt calmly, ignoring Joel.
I frown. “Nothing disrespectful.”
“Diego.”
“I asked him a question.”
“What question?”
“If he respected you.”
His face scrunches up, confused.
Even Lance looks confused, his face reading like he’s thinking, That’s it? Joel’s eyes nervously inch back and forth between us.
“The guy spent ten minutes kissing my ass ‘cause I had grease on my hands,” I go on. “Then he had the balls to bring you up and talk about you like a kid he was training. All I did was ask him why he didn’t treat you with the same respect as he did me, a stranger he just fuckin’ met. That’s all. That’s it. Kept my fists to myself.”
Wyatt looks down, appearing at a loss.
Lance shrugs. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Right?” agrees Joel, then adds, “And I was there, Wyatt. I can vouch for your man. He was nothing but respectful and—”
“I don’t need anyone’s vouching,” I cut him off.
Wyatt looks at me. “Diego …”
“You still don’t trust me? You think I—” Suddenly it hits me. The way he’s acting tonight. His forced smiles earlier. “Did he do something? Did he come by your shop today?”
“No.” Wyatt looks away.
I lower my voice and get closer. “What’d he do?”
He closes his eyes. “He terminated our agreement.”
For a moment, I don’t know how to react.
Whether to feel guilty. Fucking proud. Angry and fuming.
Misunderstood.
All I know is that Lance and Joel have nothing to say for once, and Wyatt, maybe for the first time, isn’t hiding anything from his face. No plastic smiles. No insisting he’s okay.
“Good riddance to that asshole,” I finally say.
Wyatt’s eyes pop open. “What?”
“Fuck that guy. You’re better off.”
“Better off? Do you have any idea—?” He lets out a dry, bitter laugh. “You had no right.”
“To what? Ask a dickhead to respect you?”
“To involve yourself!”
“He’s the one who involved me.”
“You still could’ve stayed out of it, Diego!”
“You’re the one who just thanked me last night for standing up for you!” I spread my hands. “So which is it, Wyatt? Am I a man you can rely on to watch your back? Or just the guy you’re fucking next door?”
I don’t realize by this point that the jukebox has gone off.
That no one’s talking in the bar anymore but us.
He sputters, takes a step back, shakes his head. “Standing up for me … doesn’t mean deciding what’s good for me.”
“I’m kinda sick of being the only person in this town willing to speak up when you’re being taken advantage of,” I say quietly. Whole damned bar can hear every word anyway. “And also being the only one you get mad at for saying so. That just makes me the asshole, right? Well, if that’s the price for you opening your pretty eyes, so be it. I’m the asshole. But isn’t my heart in the right place? Doesn’t that count for something?”
Wyatt’s shaking.
His arms. His hands. His lips.
I’m hurting him. No matter what I do to help. No matter how I try to make him happy. I just fucking hurt him.
I’m just another asshole in his life he needs to be rid of.
“You’re right.”
Wyatt looks at me.
“Should’ve stayed out of it. Not gotten involved.” I look away. Joel. Lance. The bar. Half the town crammed in this room. “Doesn’t matter. Never belonged here in the first place.”
“What does that mean?” asks Wyatt.
“Got a text just before I left work.” I look at him. “House sold.”
The words shut up whatever else he was about to say.
I nod at him. “I’ll be outta your hair by morning.”