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Saint
Wednesday - June 8
I’ve been sitting at work waiting for my meeting with Hunter regarding the incident in Detroit with Drake. I was instructed to not come in on Monday or Tuesday, while they decided what to do with me.
It’s fucking bullshit. I’m getting in trouble for almost beating the shit out of him, when he is the one that had Haisley pushed up against the hauler door, her hands locked at her side. I won’t get the look of terror in her face out of my mind. I did what anyone would do; I fucking went after him. Then when she stopped me, my brain was even worse with confusion. I took off. Not that I was given much choice being fined and suspended from the track.
“Hey, you have a minute?” Mac asks peeking his head into my office.
“Yeah. I’m just waiting to learn my fate,” I respond, running my hands through my hair. “How’s Haisley?”
“Pissed off at you for not talking to her. A little sad. She’s just not herself,” he replies. I nod in understanding.
I’ve received her texts, and I haven’t responded. Don’t ask me why because I don’t have any good reason. It seems like after we had sex on Memorial Day, every karma or energy or whatever that voodoo bullshit is has been working against us.
“You going to talk to her?” Mac wonders.
I shrug. “I don’t know what to say. I need to see if I’m still even employed here anymore.”
“I think you’ll be fine. Just tell Hunter what happened. He’s already spoken to Haisley about it.”
“He’s what? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” I immediately feel rage coursing through my veins. “Do you know what she said?”
Mac shakes his head. “I don’t. I’m sorry. Elle just mentioned it.”
“I fucking hope she stuck up for me, for herself. I hope that fucker is fired.”
“Doubt it. I saw him on the shop floor last night,” Mac remarks.
My phone rings, interrupting what I was about to say. I pick it up and listen. I turn to Mac. “I’ve been summoned.”
“Good luck, man.”
“I’m pretty sure I’ll need it.”
I head out of my office and through the back doors that lead to the stairs that go to the executive offices. I walk down the hall towards Hunter’s office, praying on anything holy that this isn’t a shit show.
I knock on his door. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, come on in, Saint. Have a seat.” He motions to the chair across from his desk. “So,” he begins as I sit, “Detroit was a little bit of a shit show?”
“I want to take a moment to apologize for my behavior. It was not becoming, and it won’t happen again...” I start when he holds up his hand.
“I’ve seen the tapes from the hauler. I’ve spoken with Haisley. I probably would have reacted the same way, but obviously, the behavior can’t be tolerated, so I will have to suspend you for one week. I’ve already handed Drake his suspension,” he explains.
“I understand. I agree with the disciplinary actions. This means I miss Road America, correct?”
Hunter nods. “I’m sure Neil will be fine filling in for you for a week. I look forward to seeing what you can build for Ohio.”
I stand and extend my hand. “Thank you, sir.”
Hunter shakes my hand, and I exit his office, heading back down to mine. Road America is where we needed me to be. Fuck. Well, hopefully Drake won’t be there either.
“How’d it go?” Mac asks as I enter the shop floor.
“Suspended for a week, so I have to head out, and I’ll miss Road America,” I tell him grabbing my phone from my desk. “Make sure we do everything we need to do to protect her,” I implore him.
“I will. Neil will as well,” Mac assures me.
