Chapter Thirteen

Sean and I 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 a one-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 cautiously focusing 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 welcome anytime.”

“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 for this fucking 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.”

Closing Ginger’s driver’s side door, I add another task to my never-ending fucking to-do list as she smiles at me through the glass before starting her car. As she pulls away, my phone rumbles in my pocket, and I curse, knowing it’s the hospital, without bothering to look at the screen. Only thirty minutes or so into the hour I asked for, Delphine’s already terrorized the hospital staff to the point that they’re calling. Glancing through the lobby glass, Tyler spots my summons as I start making my way toward my car. He steps out, making his way toward his truck. “Raincheck, it’s important. I’ll get back with you in a few. Don’t stray too far.”

“Where you off to, man?”

“A drunk and disorderly French menace walks into a hospital days early for her chemo appointment . . . I’ll get back to you with the fucking punch line.”

“Shit. Need help?”

“I’m handling it.”

“Let me know if that changes.” When I don’t reply, he curses as he secures his burner phone in his glove box before circling his truck and firing up behind the wheel.

He’s debating following me. I’d bet my fucking hot wheels on it. Delphine is his other Achilles heel, and he’s horrible at hiding it, at least from me.

Tyler fires up his truck as Sean flies out of the lobby. “Hey, assholes, where the fuck are you going? In case you forgot, I don’t work here anymore!”

“You do today,” I say before taking my wheel, knowing Russell will pull up within half an hour. Firing up my car, I sip my coffee for much-needed fuel before speeding off, my shoulders already tight.

It’s going to be one of those fucking days.