“What was that for?” I asked in a shaky voice.
Jayce shook his head without looking over at me. “They’re just trying to scare me. I don’t think my arm’s broken. Just hurts like a bitch.”
“No,” I said. “I mean what wasthatfor? What you called me.”
“Oh.” He looked at me with guilt in his eyes. Then the guilt disappeared and his face hardened. “It was for your own good.”
He came back around and knelt by the wheel, fingering the gash in the tire wall. He cursed under his breath.
“Is that all you have to say?” I asked in a small voice.
“Nothing else to say,” he said in a voice tight with pain. “If he thought we were friendly, he would’ve smashedyouwith his crowbar instead of my truck. I said what I said to make sure he didn’t get that impression.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I said slowly. “Why would he hurt me? I’ve been working with you for two days. I think you just wanted to lash out at me for trying to help you.”
“I told you,” he gritted out, “to beabsolutely silent.”
“I was!”
“No,” he said. “You talked to me while they were still watching. Sorry if I hurt your feelings, but I did you a favor. Now hand me the tire iron out of the truck bed. If Mindy or the sheriff come by and we’re not working, they’ll dock our time. Well?” he snapped. “What are you waiting for?”
Feeling numb, I went to get the tools.
Jayce replaced the tire with a spare, then insisted on finishing our hours despite his lame arm. After the way he’d treated me, I took a small amount of pleasure in his pain. He’d shown me who he really was: just another biker jerk who only cared about himself. Someone too prideful to accept help from anyone.
We worked in silence. Jayce refused to even look at me for the rest of the afternoon, either out of annoyance or guilt.
There was only one thing that could make my day any worse, and it happened right before we finished.
14
Charlotte
It was ten minutes to five and our shift was nearly over when my phone rang in my pocket. I pulled it out.
Scott.
I stared at the name on the screen. I wasn’t emotionally prepared to deal with him right now.
“Well?” Jayce snapped. “Are you gonna answer it, or make me listen to your ringtone?”
I hit the ignore button and shoved it back in my pocket. “It’s a spam call.”
He grunted and bent back to his section of the road.
The phone was silent only for a few seconds before ringing again. Jayce glared over at me. “I can’t control who calls me,” I snapped back.
“You can control whether your phone is on silent,Peaches,” he said through gritted teeth. His tone made the lighthearted nickname into a curse.
I switched it to vibrate and shoved it back in my pocket. Then I waited to see if it would ring a third time, or if it would vibrate once to indicate a voicemail. A minute passed, then two. If it was a voicemail, it was a long one.
Finally it vibrated once. I pulled my phone out, but instead of the voicemail notification I saw a text:
Scott: Can we talk?
I ignored it. My nerves were still frayed after what had happened with Jayce and the bikers. I definitely wasn’t prepared to tackle the knot of snakes that was my ex.
My ex. I hadn’t really thought of him that way until now, but that’s what he was. My ex-boyfriend. Someone whousedto occupy a huge part of my life. The hole in my stomach twisted even worse.