Page 387 of Sin City Baby


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CHAPTER 6

GRANT

It didn’t feel right to stay with Hollis and not do anything, so I set out to fix the steps on his back porch. They were rickety and caving in, and it was a damn accident waiting to happen. I went to the hardware store in town and picked up a few things before grabbing some lumber from the lumberyard, then I set out to make him some decent steps.

I could only be away from work for a few days without things going to shit, and I had no idea how to execute any of my plans. Hell, Theresa wouldn’t even come in and talk to me yesterday, which threw a wrench into things. All these fucking years later and she was still the only girl who had ever touched my heart. I had survived off dreams about her and the few pictures Hollis would send me of the family through email before Laura died.

But having her on that damn porch, hearing the way her voice had settled into a sultry tone and taking in how womanly her curves had become, it had been so damn frustrating, not being able to reach out and fucking touch her.

And the way she stared at me. Oh, that sweet little girl still wanted me. That teenaged rebel inside of her still craved me like she had all those years ago. I was candy to her eyes, and she couldn't get enough of me, and though my ego was just fine, it had given me a boost. Knowing Theresa was still excited by the prospect of me gave me hope that my plan would work. It gave me hope that I could have the life I’d always wanted, even if it did piss off the people around her.

I’d enjoyed the way her eyes trailed along my chest. I worked hard for my body and was unashamed of that fact. And the tattoos? The tattoos were my attempt at channeling my anger into something productive. A way to distract myself from how fucking boring community college had been. And when I covered my chest and back and shoulders in tattoos, I started my business.

I threw all my anger into my business, and it made me very wealthy.

I heard a car pulling into the driveway, so I peeked around the corner of the house. Hollis’ cruiser was pulling up, so I began putting away the tools. I was almost ready to rip out the stairs and install the ones I’d made. I needed to sand down and finish a few more pieces, and it would all be good to go.

“Beers are on me!” Hollis said as he walked around back.

“You finally get laid?” I asked with a grin.

“I’m always getting laid. That’s the great thing about a uniform. But I’ve got better news.”

“What could possibly be better than getting laid? You win the lottery or something? ” I said.

Hollis slapped my shoulder, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What? What is it?” I asked.

“Theresa broke up with that spineless prick,” Hollis said.

“She what?” I asked.

“She kicked that asshole out the door. She’s finally free of all those years of manipulation and bullshit Ike put her through,” he said.

“Well, good for her,” I said. “What happened? You got details?”

“I don’t fucking need details. All I needed was that idiot gone. And he’s gone, baby. Very, very gone. I’m gonna go get us something to drink because we’re celebrating.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I finish cleaning up here.”

I couldn't believe it. Theresa was single again, and from the sounds of it, that was a good thing. I was glad that she had finally stood up to him and gave him the boot. Part of me wanted to reach out to her, but I wasn’t sure if that would spoil anything. Half of my plan had already worked itself out without any personal intervention on my part.

And if Hollis knew I was here over some email that told me she needed me, he’d have my fucking head.

It had started at Laura’s funeral. Ike was there with Theresa, and something felt off. He held her a little too tightly and tried to steer her where he wanted her to go instead of where she wanted to go. He always kept her close, and his hand was always on her, as if he was a puppet master pulling her strings. Everyone was so distraught with grief that they couldn't see it, but I could.

Ike was a controlling, manipulative bastard. And there was no one looking out for Theresa.

More than ever, I knew he was the reason behind that email. That anonymous piece of electronic mail with that one fucking line begging me to come up and help her. I now knew what the person was talking about. And if I had anything to do or say about it, she’d forget all about that pathetic piece of shit by the time I left town.

Theresa deserved better, even if I couldn't have her.

I promised myself when I arrived that I would do everything in my power to make sure she was safe before I left to go home.

But now that Theresa was single and away from him, I could go back to Boston and get back to work. I enjoyed getting my hands dirty on the job. I enjoyed putting up the walls to people’s homes and businesses. Whenever I felt the need to punch something, that was what I did. I built instead of destroying. It was a productive outlet for my anger, and it kept me from running out of skin to tattoo.

I couldn't stay.

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