2. Dexter

Idump a hunk of plaster on the pile of rubble and straighten up, watching Archer inspect the area around the wall I’m about to tear down.

I’ve already done my safety checks, but Archer is nothing if not thorough, which is fine. His ass is on the line if anything goes haywire.

“Just the two walls, and make it clean.”

I nod my confirmation, and he makes a note on his clipboard.

Archer looks me up and down, taking in my attire, the workman’s boots, high-vis vest, gloves, hard hat, goggles, face mask, and the ear protectors that are around my neck, before checking a box on his health and safety sheet.

“You coming for ribs later to watch the game?”

I shake my head. “Nope. Got a date.”

He raises his eyebrows at me. “You’re not still going to the Dusty Boots, are you?”

I pick up a slab of plaster and haul it over to the pile where I’m stacking it at the edge of site. There’ll be a whole pile of rubble once I’m finished tonight, and I’ll get the boys in tomorrow to clear it. But for now, I want a clean space to work freely.

“Every Friday.”

Archer shakes his head just as Jake, the construction manager, strides over.

“Are we on track with the demolition? I want to confirm to the men when they’re back on site.”

The wall in front of me is plaster with a solid timber frame, and there’s two of them that need to come down. Because we’re keeping the rest of the building intact there’s no room to bring a digger in, so I’m doing it by hand, which is my preferred way to work. It should be a straightforward knockdown job, but you never know what surprises might be hiding behind the plaster.

“One day to demolish, one day to clear. As long as I don’t hit any snags.”

He nods and speaks into his walkie talkie, then turns back to me.

“Hey, you coming out tonight?”

The serious tone of the construction manager is gone, and now I’m talking to Jake, my buddy.

I shake my head. “Nah, man. I got this thing…”

He and Archer share a look that I pretend not to see. “Please don’t tell me you’re still going to the Dusty Boots? That place has gone to shit.”

He’s not wrong. But it’s the only place Hope knows where to find me.

“It beats hanging out with you reprobates.”

I grab the last slab of concrete and move it to the pile. I throw it down too quickly, and a puff of dust wafts into the air.

I tried everywhere to look for Hope after she drove away from me. I only had her first name and knew she came from a small town in North Carolina, but I couldn’t remember the damn name of it. The only lead that wasn’t a dead end is the bar we met in.

“Okay,” says Archer, finally having completed his safety checks. “You’re good to go, Dex.”

I give my shoulder a few rotations, warming up the muscles. My pickaxes are leaning against the far wall, and I select the longest handled one with the biggest head. Perfect for making maximum damage with the first strikes.

Jake puts a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to look at him.

“Dex.” I can tell from his tone that I’m about to get the talk. “It’s been what, a year? I hate to say it, but she’s not coming back. It’s time to move on.”

I hate the look of pity in his eyes. I don’t need his pity. I’ve been through worse in my life than losing a girl.

But maybe he’s right. Every Friday for the past year I’ve been waiting for Hope at the Dusty Boots. Maybe it’s time to face the reality that she’s not coming back. I had the perfect woman for one night, but I couldn’t keep her.

“Maybe you’re right.”

Maybe I should be thankful for that one night and move on. I’ll go tonight, and that’s it. I’ll sit on the bar stool drinking average beer and listening to shit music and try not to get into a fight. I’ll do it for one more Friday, and if she doesn’t turn up, then that’s it. I’ll move on.

Something catches Jake’s eye and he looks to the door, a huge grin spreading across his face. I follow his gaze to see Finlay leaning in the doorway in an oversized high-vis and hard hat.

“Who let you on site?” Jake asks, but I can tell by his smile that he’s pleased.

“When you’re the boss’s wife it’s easy to bribe the supervisor. Also…” she holds up a container “…cupcakes.”

Jake strides over and his arm slides around her waist. His hand goes to the swelling of her belly, and he rubs it gently as he kisses her.

She looks up at him with pure love, like he’s a fucking god and there’s no place she’d rather be than on a construction site with his dusty hands on her.

Jealousy courses through me. Not because I want Finlay, but because I want someone to look at me like that. Because I want Hope to be bringing me cupcakes with a huge smile and eyes glazed with love.

I pull up my mask, put the ear protectors on, and swing the pickaxe. It crashes through the plaster with a satisfying thud. I swing again, shattering the wall into hundreds of pieces. I swing again and again and again, until I don’t feel anything at all.