Worth Every Cent (Worth It 2)

“Well, I figured you would want me picking you up from work. But we both did agree you can’t stay there any longer. We can pick up your stuff together, you can put it in my car, then I can unload it into your room at Anton’s while you’re at work,” I said.

But her hesitation to answer me had me worried.

“You don’t seem too thrilled at that plan,” I said.

“Maybe I could call the landlord again. I’m sure his wife is out of the hospital by now.”

“Why don’t you want to stay with me?” I asked.

I stopped us at the only stoplight in Stillsville and looked over at her. I couldn’t make out the expression on her face, but it made me worried for her response. So instead of heading to Cecily’s, I took her straight to the diner.

“We can talk about it after work, how does that sound?” I asked.

“I like that. I’m sorry. I’m just a little foggy from the nap. That’s all.”

“What time does your shift end?” I asked. “I’ll pick you up.”

“Five. Just before the dinner rush.”

“I’ll be here. Just walk on out.”

“Okay.”

But even her kiss before she left me felt a little emptier than it had over the weekend.

I watched her walk into the diner and past a couple of women around her age. They were leaning against the facade of the building, smoking their weight in cigarettes. The snickered as Michelle passed them, and at one point someone else shook their head at her. I furrowed my brow as I sat there, watching as Michelle disappeared into work. If she had picked up on it, I couldn’t see a reaction in her body language at all.

What the hell had that been about?

“You’re still here?”

I whipped my head around and Andy leaned his limping body against my car.

“Get off,” I said as I struck the engine up.

“Only if you get your limp dick out of town and keep your hands off my fucking woman.”

I reached out of the car and pushed him off my rental, watching as he collapsed to the ground. Drunk, as always. Drunk, like my damn father. People gasped and I rolled my eyes. Anyone in this town would cling to any little piece of drama they could to fill their pathetic little lives. I watched Andy pick himself up off the ground as I inched my way out of the parking lot, making sure I didn’t run his drunk ass over.

Though part of me wanted to.

“Get your shit together, Andy. Because you look stupid.”

“Michelle is mine, asshole!” he exclaimed, as I rode through the parking lot.

I slammed on my breaks and turned my head around to take in the drunken man stumbling towards my car.

“You keep your disgusting hands off that beautiful woman. She made her choice, so live with it. And lay off the damn booze, Andy. You look like my damn father.”

Then I sped out of the parking lot, squealing my tires and leaving Andy in a cloud of smoke.

I headed straight for Anton’s, eager to get out of the prying eyes of this damn town. After a beautiful and wonderful weekend with Michelle, I was pissed at how it was all ending. I raced my car into the driveway and pulled all the way up to the side of the house. I wanted my car where I could see it at all times. I had five hundred thousand dollars in clothes and jewelry in the trunk of my car, and I sure as hell wasn’t letting the prying people of Stillsville get their hands on it.

Or get a look at it.

Or even get near it.

Drawing in a deep breath, I barged my way into the garage. I could lose myself easily until four thirty working on this thing. It was coming along nicely. So far I hadn’t run into any parts that needed replacing. Except for the flat tires. That would take some ordering off the internet and delivery, then I could put those bad boys on and be done. I’d have to do a little bit of research on how to smooth out the gashes and fix the paint on the car, but as far as the undercarriage of the Chevy was concerned, it was almost done.