24. Vex

24

VEX

" R ight. That's it," Switch says as he steps between me and the workbench where I just slammed a massive wrench down so hard, I dented the bench. "Tell me what the fuck is going on with you, or we're going to fight."

I shake my head. "It wouldn't be a fair fight," I say, trying to be accommodating of the injuries he's still working through.

Switch picks up the wrench. "It will be now, and I figure the wrench owes you one too."

I snatch it out of his hand and toss it back down on the bench. "Funny."

"What the fuck is wrong with you this morning? Your sister say something to you to piss you off while she was doing your hair?"

Switch was working in the shop when I arrived, so, like we always do, I joined him to work on his bike.

"Calista has a stalker."

Switch's eyebrows almost reach his hairline. "She what?"

"She has a stalker."

"Shit. Do you know who it is?"

I shake my head.

"When did it start?"

"No idea." Which is a problem.

"What's she done so far to take care of it?"

"What's with all the questions?"

Switch huffs. "I don't know, maybe I'm just taking an interest in your woman's life because you're my best fucking friend."

I turn and slump back, resting my butt on the workbench. I cross one foot over the other and fold my arms. "I fucked up how I handled it when I found out."

Switch's shoulders relax. "Got it. You're in a bad mood because you realized you fucked up with Calista. Let me guess, you used your shouty skills before your listening skills."

"I'm not a fucking child."

He reaches for a rag on the workbench and wipes his hands. "Now we're getting somewhere. How did you find out?"

"Overheard her on the phone to someone else talking about it."

"You weren't spying on her, were you? We don't have another Spark situation on our hands, do we? This isn't in the name of ‘protection,' is it?"

I can't help but huff a laugh at that. Spark was supposed to stay away from Iris, but refused to and wouldn't leave her unprotected. So, he'd hang around her house at night to make sure she was safe. At least, that's what he tried to convince himself and us of. My guess is the truth is more like he wanted to bang her something fierce.

"No. She'd stayed over at my place, let me rope her, thought we'd…fuck, maybe I'm just imagining we were getting closer. And then, I wake up alone but hear her banging around in the kitchen like she's trying to find shit. But when I got in there, she's making breakfast while telling someone named Becca that her stalker is still elusive and that some dude named Orson is ruling out candidates, which, who the fuck is called Orson anymore, anyway?"

"That's a lot to fucking process. Can we start with the fact you tied her up?"

I side-eye my best friend. "Absolutely not."

"Bet she looked hot. All that golden hair. Was it the red rope?"

I punch the shoulder that doesn't still have lingering problems, and Switch massages it as he winces and laughs at the same time.

"Just messing with you."

"Today is not a ‘mess with Vex' kinda day."

Switch laughs again. "I don't know. I like you got a woman you want to get close to, who lets you tie her up, who you have history with…and she's making you work for it."

"Yeah, well, you keep ripping on me and I'll tell Sophia about that road trip we did after Sturgis the summer before you enlisted."

"Remind me," he says. Sometimes he needs prompts. Most of his memory has returned, but it's like his filing system is a little broken.

"Three blondes, one redhead, two beds, and forty-eight hours in that shitty motel. Lived off fried chicken and soda from that nasty place across the street because it was quick and convenient."

He winces. "Shit. Forgot about that. You tell Sophia about that, and I'll accidentally shoot your nuts off when we're on a run. Fine. Move on. Tell me why you don't know shit about her stalker."

Embarrassment floods me, but I might as well get it off my chest. "Because I didn't stick around to ask any questions. The woman won't let me an inch into her life. I know she's going through shit with her mom, and she's got the pressures of being CEO of a big company while trying to be here. She thinks I don't notice her always on her phone, checking messages and firing messages off. And she sure as shit didn't decide to say anything to me about a stalker. She doesn't want to share with me or rely on me for anything."

Switch places a hand on my shoulder. "Tell me everything you overheard."

I think back to my surprise, seeing her trying to pull shit together to make me breakfast while I slept. My first thought had been one of feeling cared for, and I hate to admit just how much it touched me.

"She said Orson had ruled out one of the candidates because they were happy and happy people don't stalk."

Switch nods. "That's fair. Not sure Spark was truly happy until he met Iris."

"She also said he'd sent someone to check out someone called Walt Timberlake."

"Who's that?"

I checked as soon as I got into my car. "Some private equity finance dude. His reputation is a little sleazy. Rumors of offering funds to women for sexual favors. Never been arrested or shit."

Switch scowls at that. "Wealthy people can pay for really good fucking lawyers."

"True. And I heard Calista say he was a possibility because he gave her mediocre advice and was pissed because she turned his offer of sex down."

"Asshole," Switch says. "I mean, Calista's an attractive woman, can't blame a guy for trying to get with her, but not if he has to rely on some weird access-to-power shit to do it. She was ballsy to walk away from him."

Now that I'm in the calm of the garage, I put myself in her shoes. Young. Wanting a mentor or investment. Knowing that world is hugely stacked with men. I'm mad for her. I bet she was excited when he first singled her out, maybe hoping that he was about to invest in her or her company. Only to realize he was actually a charlatan investor and a shit stain of a human being.

"Yeah. I heard Calista acknowledge she wasn't indefatigable, then some other stuff before the two of them hung up. And then…"

"Let me guess. You yelled at her for not trusting you and stormed out, which is why you ended up here in a shitty mood."

I say nothing.

"You gave her a tracker like all the other women, right?" Switch asks.

I say nothing…again.

"Please say you at least made sure she got home okay."

"I fucked up, okay?"

"Then go. Stop helping me with a repair I can do by myself and go make sure she's safe before I rethink hitting you with that goddamn wrench. I married a woman to keep her safe—the least you can do is make sure yours gets to her front door okay."

"Fine. I'm going to go find her."

"You need my help?"

I think about the places she could have gone. "Nah. I'm sure I'll find her. There're only so many places she would go."

The first place I go to is her house, and knock on the door. It opens the narrowest of cracks.

"Hey, Mrs. Moray. Is Calista home?"

The door opens a little wider. "She's not."

"I need Calista's phone number," I say. "I'm looking for her."

She eyes me carefully. "You painted the house for me. With your friend with the scar."

I look up at the paint job briefly. "I did."

"Why?"

"Because it needed doing. Could I get Calista's number?"

Mrs. Moray pushes the door fully open and wraps her arms around herself to fend off the cold. "She told me the two of you were becoming friends."

Impatience sparks in my veins, but I try to remain cool. There's a childish curiosity in her tone.

"We are." The kind who have mind-blowing sex. "You got her cellphone number? I really need to call her?"

"Not sure I should be giving it to you. What if she doesn't want you to have it?"

"Mrs. Moray. You know me. Have my whole life. Even when you were mean to me, I did things for you. I wouldn't be asking for her number if it wasn't important."

She disappears inside and when she reappears, she hands me an old phone. "It's in there."

Quickly, I find the contacts and transfer Calista's number to my phone. But I see a shift in Mrs. Moray's face as I hand her phone back to her. The confusion lifts for a moment, and she reaches out her palm to my cheek. "You always were a good boy."

My heart stops for a minute. It's probably the closest I'm going to get from Mrs. Moray that she's sorry, and I need to accept it as such and let go of the years of frustration and hurt.

And then, she closes the door on me.

As I walk away, phone ringing in my ear, I'm terrified something is going to happen to Calista while she's all alone.

Because while I would feel the loss at a visceral level, I don't think Mrs. Moray would ever recover.