Page 78 of Becoming Family

Hobbs went quiet again.

“All right, then.” Victor nodded at her. “Pleasure riding with you, Tabitha. You have a pleasant day. See you later, Chris.”

“Text, like you said. It’s really easy. You just take out your phone and...” Hobbs imitated the gesture by pulling out his own phone.

Victor barked a laugh and climbed in his rental Jeep. Once he’d pulled away, Tabitha eyed Hobbs up and down. He was dressed in coaching attire, but didn’t look like he was ready to head to the gym anytime soon. He just stood there, flexing his jaw, his eyes bluer than usual, glittering with anger. This was so different from anything she’d ever seen, she forgot herself and said nothing, even though the air was getting chilly and was starting to work its way into her bones.

“So you went on your first bike ride,” Hobbs said, his voice almost too quiet.

“I didn’t plan it,” Tabitha said, even though she didn’t feel like apologizing. “It just sort of happened.”

“That’s fine.” Hobbs shrugged. “But we had a deal, that’s all. We were supposed to take your first ride together.”

“I know.” Tabitha shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Guess I figured I was doing you a favor. Now you don’t have to worry about it.”

Hobbs’s gaze snapped to hers. “Why would I worry about it? We made a promise.”

Tabitha swallowed down the cotton in her throat. “You told me to give you time. I’m giving you time. You seem to have time to date people like Serena, or whoever, but no time to be real with me. So yeah. When I had a chance to ride a motorcycle, I took it. I’m not going to apologize.”

Hobbs looked down at the pavement and shook his head. “Well, I did ask you for more aggression,” he said. “So I guess I deserve this. Though I gotta say, this doesn’t suit you.”

A flush took over Tabitha’s whole body that made her feel like she was on fire. “What doesn’t suit me?” When he was silent, Tabitha took a step closer. “What is this all about? I get it that you’re annoyed at your brother and scared for your sister, but that’s not what this is, right here. This is something else. I can feel it.” A heartbeat passed. “Are you jealous? Because I rode with your brother?”

Hobbs finally looked up. He shook his head while loosing a humorless laugh. “I gave up being jealous of Victor a long time ago.”

“Why are you even here, then?”

“I came to pick up some stuff Delaney has for Hannah.” He turned, as though getting ready to head back to his truck. “But it can wait. Now’s not a good time.”

“Or—” Tabitha seized her opportunity, clinging to whatever courage had bloomed inside of her after that ride “—you can just let Hannah come herself to get whatever Delaney has for her.”

A flicker crossed Hobbs’s face, but was gone in a flash. “Right.” He turned to go.

“Really?” Tabitha called after him. “That’s all?”

Hobbs sighed and stared up at the sky. When he looked back down, he shrugged helplessly. “Yeah, that’s all.”

“How truly disappointing.” Now it was Tabitha who turned to go.

“What do you want from me?” Hobbs’s words snapped at her back.

Tabitha whirled back around to face him. “I want you to be real with me. I want you to stop hiding. I want you to stop making excuses.”

“No, Tabitha,” Hobbs said, grinding over her full name. “You don’t. You really, really don’t. I already told you, I give you guys the best version of me. You should be glad for that.”

And Tabitha did understand that. She understood about not being able to share all of yourself with the world, about having to keep a lot of it hidden in order to protect what sanity you had left. But there was more to this. “I’m not ‘you guys.’” Tabitha’s voice softened. “I mean more to you than that, and you know it. I can feel it, every time you touch me. Every time you’ve kissed me. But you hold back. You pull away. You hold back about everything real. Has it ever occurred to you that I don’t want the best version of you? I want therealversion of you. I want the real version of you, because the real oneisthe best one.”

Hobbs stepped closer, erasing almost all the space between them. His voice softened as his words turned to steel. “You think so, huh? You think my sob stories are going to make me more real, Tabitha? All my jokes and fun and good intentions aren’t enough? You want the real me? You want it all? Well, you got it. What do you want to know?” Hobbs didn’t give her time to answer, pushing ahead like a steamroller. “Take your pick. You want the stories about my drunken, abusive father? Like you haven’t heard that one before. Boo hoo. You want the stories about how I was Pops’s favorite target because I was just some skinny middle child that he could push around at will? That when he was done beating on Mom he came for me instead? Yeah, you’ve probably heard that one, too. Hey, I know.” Hobbs’s whole face was red now, his words starting to thin out as his voice turned raspy. “Maybe you want to hear about the Fourth of July. You want to hear that one? You want to know why I hate the Fourth of July?”

Tabitha’s brain was scrambling now, her heart hammering in her chest. She was no longer cold; her skin had flushed all over, but her body was trembling, anyway. She remembered what Hobbs had told her last Independence Day, when she’d had that panic attack at the gym at the sound of the fireworks and she’d woken to Hobbs holding her hand. “It’s a stupid holiday,” he’d said. Tabitha had never asked him why.

“No,” Hobbs said, when Tabitha had stood there, shaking in silence. “You don’t want to hear that story. I can see it in your face. And I don’t blame you, Tabby.” His voice grew light and soft. “Nobody wants to hear that shit. Nobody should have to hear that shit.” He reached out and touched her face, running his thumb along her cheekbone.

Tabitha wanted to flinch, but she leaned into it, like a cat.

“I’ll tell you one thing, though. When I joined the marine corps at eighteen years old, it was because I wanted to be the biggest, baddest, toughest motherfucker on the planet. I wanted to get away, and I wanted to go somewhere that would turn me into a killing machine, so that nobody could ever lay hands on me again. And when I was in combat, the only thing that scared me was the thought that I might get hurt enough to get sent back home. I either wanted to be healthy enough to stay as far from Omaha as I could, or I wanted to be dead. Now, how fucked up is that?” Hobbs closed any remaining space between them and whispered right against her ear. “Is that story real enough for you? Do you want more? Because I have a lot of them, just like that.”

Hobbs drew away and Tabitha reached for Trinity, but she wasn’t there. She’d left her in the shop, where it was warm. “I understand about stories,” Tabitha said, when she’d found her voice. “And I’m not asking you to share them all. But there’s a difference between not sharing your stories and hiding behind them.”

Hobbs’s face flushed so bright Tabitha worried he’d have a heart attack. Any sign of the jokester who laughed his way through everything had been smeared away and plastered over with raw, sizzling emotions. The face that stared back at her was one Tabitha had never seen before. “Oh, I’m the one hiding, huh? Grow up, Tabitha. I’m not the one who has to make a little list to prove to the world I’m good enough.”

A gasp escaped Tabitha’s tight lungs.

“Yeah. Hurts, doesn’t it? You wanted the real me. Well.” Hobbs spread his arms open. “Here I am.” Then he turned and walked away, without looking back. He got inside his truck, slammed the door, revved the engine and peeled out of the parking lot on squealing tires. Tabitha waited until he was gone, refusing to move one inch until he’d disappeared. She’d turned away from too many confrontations. This one, she would face down until the end.

Once Hobbs was gone, she raced into the shop, grateful that Delaney was in the back room and wouldn’t see her as she ran to Trinity, sank to the floor and held on tight. The service vest was abrasive against her cheek, but the warmth of the little pittie filled Tabitha up, quieted her pulse and slowly returned the world to a bearable state.

Only after some time had passed did Tabitha rise. She swiped away her tears and collected her journal from the counter. She grabbed the Badass List, crinkling the page in her palm, tore the paper from the metal rings, balled it up and pitched it in the trash.

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