Fear Us Page 17

I stepped into the bathroom without waiting for an answer, knowing she would only follow. She seriously needed to work on boundaries. I briefly wondered what Keiran would have done had it been him having to deal with her shit.

I laughed when I figured he probably would have snapped her neck by now. When the thought settled, amusement had been replaced by the grim reality of who my brother was and how it brought me here. Away from my home, my friends… everything I’d ever known including Sheldon.

And she haunted me day and night.

“I got a call from a client saying you never showed for your first appointment.”

“What time is it?”

“One in the afternoon.”

“What time was my appointment?”

“Seriously? You don’t even remember?”

I grabbed the toothpaste and coated my brush. “Can you answer a simple fucking question without asking a question?”

“You went to a party last night, didn’t you? With that lowlife drug scum?”

“That’s another question, but can I ask you something? When the hell did you become so fucking stuck up your own ass?”

“Right around the time my father went to prison and stopped selling me like a whore.”

“So you’re saying you need some ass?”

“Can you please think with your brain and not your dick for at least once in your life?”

“I’ve got to take a piss. Are we through here?” I nudged her from the doorway and slammed the door before she could answer.

My need to urinate wasn’t as bad as the need to hide my reaction to her judgment of me. It wasn’t anything I wasn’t used to or haven’t earned. Despite it all, it still made me want to put my fist through a wall.

“Should I tell your client to reschedule?” she yelled through the door.

“Tell them to either reschedule or fuck off,” I yelled back as I stepped into the shower and let the cold spray wash away the unwanted feelings.

* * * * *

Since I missed my first appointment, and after checking my calendar, realized I didn’t have another for a couple of hours, I took my bike in to get serviced. This bike, Di, and the clothes on my back were the only thing I took with me when I left Six Forks.

I told myself the reason I held onto the old bike wasn’t because Sheldon and my names were keyed on the side. The memory of how it ended up there wasn’t the hearts and flowers story anyone might assume. She actually keyed it there after the third time I was caught cheating. It read— Keenan & Sheldon forever .

She carved it there right before dumping my ass. Getting her back took a lot of groveling, and it wasn’t until she left me for good that I realized she should have left me a long time ago.

And if I really loved her… I would have let her go a long time ago.

If I were wise, I would never step foot in Six Forks again. If she were lucky, she would never have to lay eyes on me again. I played with the idea of having my bike repainted for what felt like the millionth time, and each time I would bring my bike in, I bitched out and cursed myself the entire way home.

Every once in a while, I would send Di back to Six Forks as my spy. I never knew exactly what I was looking for, and Di never asked questions for the most part. Everyone had gone away for college including Keiran. Di was able to find out that Keiran, Lake, and Dash were all studying at the same college. Sheldon apparently chose to stay local and went to the university in the neighboring city.

I wasn’t surprised given her dream to be a model, which didn’t really require a degree. I figured her father strong-armed her into college. And why did that disappoint me?

I shouldn’t care.

Her future was no longer meant for mine, and the reminder only served to bring the rage to boiling pitch inside me. I remembered how I left things with her. How I blamed her and hated her for leaving me.

When I needed her most, she cast me aside.

I’m responsible for many wrongs in our relationship, but one thing I’d never done was abandon her. Fucking that teacher was one of the lowest points in my life, but the lowest was begging her to be with me.

I wouldn’t be begging again.

If I ever saw her again, I would take what was owed to me. She had just better hope our paths never crossed again. It was the last thing I said to her.

I was so deep in my thoughts, I hadn’t realized the owner of the shop was standing in front of me, watching me curiously.

“Say, man. Have you given more thought to getting your bike repainted? I guess by the look on your face the little lady who carved that artwork on your bike is no longer in the picture.”

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