Page 99 of Serve Me


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“What the hell kinda rodeo farm life is in Paris, Flynn?” she groaned.

I closed my eyes and shook my head before I turned my back on her. My heart felt like it had been shattered and thrown into a fire to burn, and I knew I had to get out of the house before I said something I was gonna regret.

“I never would’ve made you stay,” I said. “I never would’ve made you toss your dreams out for me. Not after all the support you showed me with the rodeo.”

“Flynn, I’m so sorry,” she breathed.

“But you don’t believe that, do you?”

I whipped around and caught her stare, and the way she seemed to buck up just a bit told me exactly what I needed to know.

“You still think I would’ve asked you to stay. After everything, I did to encourage your fashion in college.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “I do.”

I gritted my teeth and turned down the hallway, and I blocked out her voice yelling after me as I slammed through the front door. My hands were trembling, and my throat was wanting me to yell out all sorts of nasty and disgusting things, but all I did was rip my phone from my pocket and dial the number of my vet.

“Yeah, need ya to come look at one of my heifer’s,” I said. “Yeah. I’m good. Just swamped with work. See ya soon.”

I shut my phone and threw it across the yard before I made my way to the heifer’s barn. I didn’t give a shit that it was about to rain and I didn’t give a shit that I’d left a mess that Chelsea would probably feel obligated to clean up. I couldn’t believe that woman. After all the fighting I did with her parents to try and convince them that she could make a living out of fashion, how the hell did she somehow think I’d then try to stop her from pursuing that passion? I was the one in fucking college who consoled her self-conscious ass after she cried for weeks about not being good enough to submit her portfolio to them in the first fucking place.

What kind of twilight zone was I in!?

I knew I should’ve gone back and cleaned up that kitchen. I knew I shouldn’t leave it to her to take care of. After all, she was still technically recuperating, and I was still technically taking care of her, but I was too worked up, and the animals I had around my farm always seemed to calm me down.

And, it was about time she learned to clean up her own damn mess anyway.

Chapter 18: Chelsea

I had one last appointment with the doctor, but the drive was pretty quiet. I kept telling Flynn he could stay behind, but he kept insisting he needed to come with me. I think a part of him was hoping I wouldn’t be cleared for my flight back to Paris. I think part of him--- just a small part-- was hoping I’d have to call my boss and tell him I had to stay longer because something had gone wrong, or my brain was exploding, or I was quitting because I was frustrated, or some other bullshit he wanted to happen.

Because the ride home was even quieter when the doctor cleared me to go back to Paris.

“I bet you’re ready to get back to work, aren’t you? Paris, I can’t even imagine.”

The doctor swooned in the office, and Flynn actually walked out. That was the thing about a small town: people didn’t give a damn how others reacted to their bullshit. It was one of the reasons why I had been so anxious to leave. In Paris, if someone didn’t like what you were pedaling, you knew it.

We got back to Flynn’s house, and I went upstairs. I needed to pack and make some phone calls that would cost me a pretty penny, and then I needed to try and see if I could access my email from somewhere. Maybe I’d try the public library on my way out of town-- hail a cab and sit there for a couple of hours. I’m sure I’d have plenty of shit to come back to, after not talking to anyone for an entire month, and I needed to make sure things were going well with my design line.

After all, I had taken time off to come see my parents because once I returned I’d be face-deep in planning my very first fashion show.

I dragged my things out of the drawers my mother originally packed everything in, and I made sure to grab all my toiletries. Some clothes had been stuffed under the bed, so I dug them out and crinkled my nose at their smell. I went in search of a plastic bag I could put them off in, but Flynn simply ripped them from my hands on put them in the washer.

“Hey! Flynn, I don’t have time t-”

But, before I could get a word in edgewise, he’d started the laundry, and I was down three outfits.

He wouldn’t talk to me, but he damn sure was making this exit a hell of a lot harder than it needed to be.

“You can make some when you get home,” he quipped.

I went back upstairs and let his comment roll off my back. I wasn’t sure what his angle was, but I took out my phone to call a cab. Of course, my doctor’s appointment was scheduled the same day as my flight out, and I had spent the extra money to get a direct flight from my Oklahoma hometown all the way to France. No layovers, no nights in other countries, just a direct flight that would kick me in the gut.

But, it’d get me back to a city that embraced me. Unlike this pothole of a town, I’d been in for the past month.

I jammed the last of my shoes into the suitcase, and part of me wondered how I’d ever gotten all this shit here in the first place. I sat on it and forced the zipper closed, and I sighed when I heard the crackling of tires roll up the loose gravel driveway. My chariot was here to whisk me away to the airport, and I grabbed my plastic bag of toiletries and shoved them into the front of my bag.

I did one last double check to make sure I had all my chargers, but when the tires on the loose gravel started crunching away, I threw my bag down the stairs and rushed for the door.

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