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He stomps away, leaving me with silent tears rolling down my face and a lot of unanswered questions.
* * *
The rest of the evening, I lie low inside the rental. Gauge’s outburst in the garage has rattled my nerves. I can’t shake this uneasy feeling crawling over me. His demeanor oddly reminds me of how Levi behaved when I wouldn’t do what he wanted.
But this is Gauge—my Gauge.
For the life of me, I don’t understand what I could have said or done to deserve such hostility.
With the crew back together, they celebrate in the yard with a massive bonfire and BBQ. I stay busy in the kitchen, prepping more food as they consume all the side dishes and desserts. To fill the time, I slowly clean the kitchen, glancing out the window every so often to check on Gauge. He seems to have a grand time swapping war stories with his brothers and drinking his weight in beer.
Gauge likes a good party, but he’s never been a heavy drinker. Tonight, he seems exceptionally determined to get smashed. Sensing this could backfire spectacularly, I go to the basement to fetch a bucket and some rags in case he gets sick in the night. Climbing back up the stairs with my supplies, I walk into a scene that has me gasping.
Gauge is leaning against the counter with his hands resting on the countertop behind him. Candy is nestled between his thighs, her hands on his sides. The image looks more intimate than innocent, and I feel I’ve walked in on something I’m not privy to.
The two of them are full of smiles, laughing at some inside joke I’m not part of. He turns to see me gaping at the two of them, my arms full of cleaning products.
His eyes sharpen on me. “Where the fuuuck have you beeeen?” he slurs as he wraps an arm around Candy’s shoulder. She molds herself around him, looking smug.
Don’t cry.Whatever I do, I can’t cry. “Working in the kitchen.”
Candy covers her snigger with her hand. “See, Gauge. I told you she prefers the oven over you.”
“I was making the food and cleaning up,” I murmur. My nose sniffles and tears threaten to break loose.
Gauge’s head lolls back on his shoulders before rolling back forward to look at me. “You couldn’t take a break to hang out with the crew?” He looks down at Candy suctioned to his body while pointing a finger at me. “She’s too good for us…too good for me.”
“That’s not true,” I object, my voice coming out stronger, startling us all.
But before I can say more, Gauge’s eyes roll back in his head. He goes slack against Candy, making her protest as she tries to hold up his massive weight.
Dropping the cleaning supplies, I run forward to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I slowly let him slump to the floor on his butt without hurting himself. Candy untangles herself from him with a grimace.
Gauge comes to, his eyes half-mast. He reeks of beer and his forehead beads with perspiration. He looks up at me, his hands clinging to my shirt. “Baby, I don’t feel so good.”
Quickly, I reach for the bucket, holding it under his face. He releases his stomach, grasping at me for support.
Candy covers her mouth. “Oh, God! I can’t.”
Before she dashes out the door, I yell, “Send in two of the guys to help me.”
Gauge’s body racks violently as he continues to vomit into the bucket. I turn my face to the side, breathing through my mouth while I pat him softly on the back.
Brass and Reaper enter the kitchen, and I sigh with relief. “Could you boys help me?” Both turn a little green, but only Reaper tucks tail.
“Coward,” Brass hollers at his brother’s back before shaking his head. He hoists Gauge up to his feet, slipping an arm around him. “I swear to God, if you get puke on me, I’m dumping your ass.”
Brass gets him to the bunkroom, laying him on Atlas’s lower bunk. Out of the brothers, Atlas would be the least upset about Gauge crashing in his bed.
“Thank you, Brass.” I sit at the end of the bed, untying Gauge’s boots.
“No problem, Opal. If you need anything else, shout for Punk or Chase. Those tools can help with their roommate.”
Alone with Gauge, I work to remove his clothes, so he’ll be comfortable. Once he’s settled, I clean out the bucket, placing it by Gauge’s head. I go to the kitchen and clean the mess that I couldn’t catch in the bucket.
Ten minutes later, I return with water, Tylenol, and a cool compress. I get the water and pain medication into him before he collapses back on the bed. He murmurs words of appreciation as I place the cold, damp cloth on his forehead.
As hurt as I am with Gauge blatantly flirting with Candy, I can’t leave him alone in this state. Quietly, I sit beside him on the edge of the bed, running my fingers through his unruly hair. He groans and reaches for my free hand, clasping it in his.
