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10
Tate pulls the bikeinto the garage and kills the engine, but doesn’t move to get off. He’s just fucked things up with Chloe for good this time. There’s no coming back from this. For the first time in as long as he can remember, he found someone he genuinely likes. Not only that, but he was also attracted to her. So much so he found it difficult to keep his hands off her. Why the hell didn’t he tell her who he was from the beginning? He was being a selfish prick and it backfired on him. Big time.
He slides off the bike and stares at the workbench opposite him. The pressure builds in his chest as he glares at the line of tools neatly laid out on the top. He kicks the leg of the bench and watches as the tools slide on the wooden surface. Tate shouts and kicks out again and again. He attacks the table like it’s the source of all the evil and pain in his life. The leg collapses under the assault, sending the tools clattering to the floor.
Strong arms wrap around him, but he’s not backing down so easily. He breaks free and slams his foot against the wood, cracking the plank before he is pulled away again. Gregg slams him against the wall and presses his arm to Tate’s neck.
‘Stop it!’
But he has no intention of stopping. He’s bigger and stronger than Gregg and frustration has him firmly in its grip. He pushes his friend away and lunges for him. Gregg ducks and tries to grab Tate’s arms but Tate barrels into him, throwing them both onto the gravel outside the garage. Gregg holds Tate’s arms back but is struggling. Tate momentarily gets distracted when someone shouts his name and Gregg takes advantage. He flips Tate over and straddles him, using his full weight to pin his arms to his lower back.
‘Jesus Tate. Calm the fuck down.’
‘Get off me.’
‘Oh yeah, sure. Like that wasn’t filled with the promise of another beating. I’m not moving until you calm down.’
‘I’m calm, all right!’
Gregg snorts which doesn’t help ease any of the tension running through him. ‘Of course you are. What the fuck crawled up your ass?’
Tate bucks against Gregg but without his arms he’s not going anywhere. ‘Seriously, Gregg. Move.’
‘Oh seriously? Still no. I’m going to use my Spidey senses and guess she didn’t take to your celebrity status well.’
‘Going in for the I told you so already?’
‘Of course not, you idiot. You want to talk about it?’
‘I want you to get off me. It fucking hurts.’
Gregg leans over and frowns at Tate. ‘You still want to hit me?’
‘I’m thinking about it.’
His dad appears above him and taps Gregg on the shoulder. ‘I got this, Gregg. He’s not going to hit anyone or I might just be tempted to return the favour. Tate, sit on the wall and do not move a fucking muscle. Do you hear me?’
Gregg glares at Tate then slowly gets off him. Rick points to the house. ‘Gregg, get yourself inside. We’ll be in once we’ve had a chat.’
‘You sure?’
‘We’re good, thanks.’ Tate ignores his father’s hand to help him up and drops onto the low wall running along the side of the driveway. He rests his head in his hands as he tries to get his temper under control.
Rick sits beside him and looks sideways at him. ‘Well? I’m waiting.’
‘For what?’
‘For you to get your fucking head out of your ass, Tate. You realise you just fought with Gregg?’
