Not sure what he’s saying, how to interpret his words. Probably just post-sex talk, I think, unable to move or think. I’m a boneless heap on top of him, not caring if anyone passing by can see us, not giving a damn that my breasts are mashed against his chest and his cock is still buried inside me.
Not wanting to accept that soon this will be a crazy memory—the feel of his cock inside me, his arms around me, his warm presence, his boyish grin—and we’ll both go our separate ways.
PART III
You think a dreamcatcher can free you from bad dreams. You think bad luck is something that happens to other people. You think things can’t get any worse.
Until the dreamcatcher breaks, bad luck turns worse and your life swirls down the drain. Then you realize you haven’t known misery until now. You haven’t had nightmares before, only bad dreams. You didn’t know.
Now you do, and still you keep fighting.
Because the last thing to go is hope.
Chapter Seventeen
Seth
Monday morning and Manon’s not in my arms when I wake up. She left late last night, saying she had to wake up early today to talk to her college advisor.
I fucking hate Mondays.
The weekend I spent with her is a magic memory lodged in my brain, making me grin as I shower and brush my teeth, as I stir some instant coffee and hop into my jeans.
Christ. It was so good I should stop thinking about it—’cuz it won’t be on repeat. One week, right? Did we agree on that, or did I imagine it? One week to show her how much she means to me, before she leaves me far behind in her rearview mirror.
And of course speaking of rearview mirrors—fucking hell, the sex in her car yesterday was damn hot. She was so fucking sexy, so soft and warm and…
Fuck. Not mine. She’s not mine. Not for real.
Lucky for her. I’m not who she needs. Can’t take care of her as she deserves. I can barely take care of myself. Need to get my life back on track.
Somehow.
Going back to Damage today. It’s about time. My knee is much better, and I need to ask the guys if anyone can recommend me for a job. Any small gig will do—small enough that nobody will go digging into my records. Now that I can stand on my own two feet, that the dizziness from the concussion has cleared, too, I need to put a patch on my life, regain control.
Zane and Rafe will grill me, for sure. I’ll have to fend their questions, keep them at bay. Bark and bite. Which is so unlike me it’s bound to raise some eyebrows and make them come at me harder, but I’ll hold strong. It’s what I gotta do.
But fi
rst… Shivering in my jacket, I wait for the bus. My first stop is an illegal car wash run by the Chinese further north. I’ve worked there before, when I was on the street. The money isn’t enough to buy you more than a cheap meal, but right now it’s all I can think of doing.
Turns out they have a new boss. He doesn’t look too impressed with me and my walking stick, but puts me to work nevertheless.
Five hours later, drenched in sweat and a few bucks richer, I head to Damage. I’m ready. I’m goddamn ready for anything.
I keep repeating the mantra in my head all the way there. I arrive first and settle down to do my cleaning shift for the first time in months. It feels good, although after my stint at the car wash, it leaves me winded, my knee aching, my shoulder throbbing.
Getting better, though. Definitely. Getting there. Hopefully soon I can return to the gym and do some serious weight-lifting and cardio with Rafe and the guys. I missed that.
Jesse arrives first, the newest inker of the shop, and he whoops when he sees me. He shows me the new section of the shop, his work station, and seems mighty pleased that I barely need the walking stick today.
It’s goddamn nice to be back. Maybe it’s gonna work out okay.
Turns out Zane won’t be coming in today. He’s out of town, and Ocean takes over my training. Which is cool, because Ocean is a nice guy, quiet and relaxed and obviously not set on chewing my ears out about missing so much training or getting a job.
By the end of the afternoon, I’m tired but pleased with what I’ve learned. Plus when asked, Ocean says he’ll see if he can find some gig for me with a buddy of his at a small diner nearby, and the others seem genuinely happy to see me and don’t ask questions.
The week has started well.