Page 25 of One Last Rainy Day
His declaration has me pausing all movement. “And the consequences?”
“On me,” he declares before turning and stalking out the front door.
Stunned by his willingness to vouch for her, especially after her meltdown yesterday, I follow and lock up. After cranking our engines to warm them up, I glance over to see him smiling through our lowered windows while classic rock begins to filter through his speakers.
“Let’s wake you up.”
I crank up my own music to drown his noise out, and he shakes his head in annoyance. In the next second, he’s spinning tires to lead us out of the neighborhood, and I put my Camaro into gear and follow.
At the stop sign, I pull up next to him so our hoods are lined up. After three collaborative revs of our engines for a countdown, we both rocket into motion, claiming both lanes of the main road. Sean grabs the advantage when I’m forced behind him by an oncoming car. I can practically hear his sarcastic rebuttal when I floor my Camaro and bullet past him. The long double tap of his horn is an unmistakable “fuck you” as we fly down the road. Sean starts to gain on me when another oncoming car forces me to slow and roll into his lane. The driver lays on his horn, a “fucking idiots!” screamed as we zoom past. Sean guns it as I straddle bothlanes, anticipating his every move, his hood dangerously close to my bumper as I block his maneuvering to stay ahead. I glance in my rearview, chuckling. “I may be seeing two of you, brother, but you’rebothbehind me.”
When we approach our last right turn, I allow him to dart past me, and I quickly decide to cut the corner of a dry field, tires skidding back onto the pavement as I reclaim my lead and give it everything I’ve got. Sean repeatedly sounds his horn as I chuckle, already tasting my victory.
We take one last dicey turn, and Sean recovers faster, gaining ground and flipping the bird out of his window as we go hood to hood on the straightaway. Opening up, I go full throttle, knowing horsepower has everything to do with the last stretch, and this is where I have slightly more edge. My engine wins as I gain a full car length before fishtailing into King’s parking lot and stopping on a dime. Sean pulls into the space next to me just as I exit. He lingers at his driver’s door, addressing me over the roof of his Nova. “You’re fucking ridiculous. You know that? The rules are simple.” He slices his hand left and right. “Stay between the mayonnaise and mustard.”
“Since when are you a stickler for rules? Oh, yeah...only when I’m dusting your ass. If you spent a little more time under your hood than under skirts, you might actually fucking beat me one day.”
Sean shuts his car door and joins me at mine. “Day isn’t over yet, asshole.” He claps me on the back as we head toward the lobby door for Tyler’s update. Tyler’s made it his mission since our warehouse heist to get to the bottom of thewhoby utilizing his military contacts.
Our major setback with this is that if we attempt to dishout justice on something of this caliber, it could bring attention to our secret. Just as I’m sifting through the odds we’re up against, Tyler pulls into the parking lot. We both head toward his truck for an update when I hear my name called.
Chapter Thirteen
SEAN ANDI both turn to see Ginger getting out of her Chevy sedan. We’d missed her idling there when we pulled in. Doing my best not to show how her unexpected presence is fucking up my morning, Sean leans over to me in a whisper as we start walking her way.
“You fucking with Ginger again?”
Our collective boots crunch gravel as I take in Ginger’s dress, appreciating her beauty as I always have. “We hooked up when I first got home. It was aone-time, welcome home fuck.”
“Well, welcome home,you’re fucked,” he chuckles, adding a back clap as I glare at him in warning. Ginger steps up to us, dark-red hair flying in the breeze, brown eyes darting between us as Sean takes the lead—his shit-eating grin firmly in place. Normally he wouldn’t take so much joy out of my discomfort, but it’s clear he’s in it today for payback—for Cecelia. That idea gnaws at me as Sean speaks up, addressing her.
“Hey Ginger, lookin’ beautiful this morning.”
She gives him a soft “Thank you,” before cautiouslyfocusing back on me, her expression letting me know I haven’t managed to mask shit. I’ve made her feel unwanted. Needing to say something to ease her discomfort, I fucking fail to produce the words before she speaks up. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
I lift my chin to Sean, who takes his cue and painstakingly walks backward, eyes darting between us. Ignoring my scowl, he addresses Ginger.
“Just got a new place, don’t know if Dom told you, but you’re welcomeanytime.”
“Thanks, Sean.” Sean joins Tyler as he glances our way, lifting his chin to let me know the news he has is time sensitive before he greets Ginger with a friendly wave. I nod to let him know I’m coming.
“I won’t take much of your time,” Ginger assures, pulling my attention her way.
“It’s good...you good?” I’m so fucking bad at this. I’ve never been able to do small talk, not even when I’ve wanted to. At one point, years ago, specifically with Ginger, I wanted to. I don’t bother to attempt it anymore. Where I continually fail, Sean would’ve already talked a prior hookup into a more intimate setting and gotten balls deep, making her forget the reason she showed up. A talent he possesses that I’m at times envious of—if only forthisfucking reason.
It’s also why I’ve shared with Sean in the past when an opportunity presented itself. He takes pleasure in the whole fucking charade while I refuse to. When it’s run its course, he’s always been the one to let them down gently before I fuck it all up with the blunt truth or my inability to use words when it matters most.
That is why Tyler used it against me in the yard that day.It’s fucking humiliating, and that point is driven home as Ginger patiently waits on me. She’s always been a rare exception, and never held my weakness against me, not once since we were just kids.
Looking over at her now, I can tell there’s more behind why she’s here before she voices it. “I’m fine, Dom. This isn’t about us,” she assures before biting her lower lip.
It’s then I notice she’s sweating, and it’s too early in the day for it. To ease her mind, I grip her shaky hand and see her take her first full breath since she approached me.
“What’s wrong?”
“Dom, I hate asking, but I need your help.”
I tighten my fingers around her hand, knowing it’s not me she’s scared of. Anger starts to simmer for whatever motherfucker put this type of visible fear into her. “Ask me anyway.”
