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“Are you okay?” Ireland asked, joining me in the paint bay. “Landon told me what’s going on. Tell me what to do to help you out, and I’ll make it happen—we’ll make it happen.”
“If you could go back almost two years ago, and tell me to fuck Hope so she’d carry my biological child, then that’s what I need,” I deadpanned, unable to look at my sister. “Other than that, there’s nothing, Ire. You can gloat for as long as you want this time. I deserve it.”
“Self-loathing doesn’t look good on you, Hunter,” she said.
“Fuck off, Ire,” I muttered. “I’m in no mood to be lectured.”
She shrugged. “Too bad. I’m in a lecturing mood and you’re my first victim.” Meaning there were more, and those poor sons of bitches were in for an earful once she was done with me.
“Well, I don’t want to hear it. I’m backed up at work. You have shit you need to do. Just leave the mess alone. I’m cleaning it up a little at a time.”
“Ohmigod, Hunter,” Ireland said. “You sound like a whiny bitch. Where is my brother? Where is the guy who would rather kick ass than talk out his feelings? What did Posey do to you? Rip your balls off?”
“Stop,” I yelled. “Jesus fuck, Ireland. Not everything can be fucking fixed. Let me lick my wounds. I haveneverstepped into your relationships to tell you what to do, even when you needed me to. Don’t do that to me! I don’t need you to take up for me. I don’t need any of you to say a fucking word. I fucked up. I did this. No one else. Posey was the best person in my fucking life besides Destiny, and I ruined it with my need to control the narrative.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, and I rolled my eyes. Great, what I didn’t need, Mack wanting to kick my ass because I made his wife, aka my sister, fucking cry. “You’d seriously walk away from yourBoom? How can you? You should fight for them right now.”
I sighed. “I can’t, Ire. Posey doesn’t want me, and Destiny isn’t mine biologically. I should have been honest from the beginning, like you said. Perhaps if I had been, I wouldn’t be in this position. I’ve made peace with what comes next. You need to as well.”
“But... You’re alone, Hunter. You shouldn’t be alone,” my sister said, her voice so soft and broken, my heart cracked at the idea of her hurting because of me and my stupidity.
“I’m never alone, Ire. I have you and Landon, and Jackson. I have your kids to keep me company. Just because you and Jackson have found those perfect people, doesn’t mean we all get the chance to have the same. It was nice pretending for a little while. I got to experience the exhilaration of falling in love. Now I have to deal with the broken heart that comes from such, too. I’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
“Bullshit,” Ireland said. “If you think I’m buying your lies, Hunter Banks, you’ve got another think coming. I will never accept you being alone. I will never accept Posey walking out on you because you did what you thought was right, regardless of how I felt about it. I will never forgive her for hurting you.”
“I hurt her,” I stated. “Not the other way around. I knew her rules, Ireland. You can’t blame her for my issues.”
“Watch me,” Ireland said before storming from the bay.
My head fell forward as I exhaled. God help anyone who got into my sister’s way when she was like this. The scrappy, use-her-fists-first woman who’d softened over the last few months had returned in roaring authority. Ireland loved fiercely and protected all of us, even though she was closer to Jackson than Landon and me. Before I got back to work, I slipped my phone from my pocket and texted Mack. Maybe he could talk some sense into Ireland prior to her getting herself into a situation she couldn’t get out of.
Mack laughed when I explained what had happened. That was the only response I got. Should have figured as much. He’d back Ireland’s play no matter what she did. It was never Ireland most had to worry about. It was Mack. He stood behind her, lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce when whoever pissed her off. The fucker was crazier than my sister, and that was saying something.
Since I couldn’t talk any sense into anyone, I put my earbuds in and finished up taping the car waiting for me. The Torino was a ’76 302 V8 (original) the owner had upgraded to a 429 big block. The guy had found the car in a local junkyard and rebuilt the beast.They don’t make them like this anymore.The owner was right, manufacturers didn’t. These were classic American muscle. He wanted the original Starsky and Hutch red with the white stripe on the sides and roof and black pin striping. I didn’t ask questions, just painted the car.
For the next three hours, I meticulously added coats to the body. The fenders were chrome and to die for. The car when we put it back together would give any person who knew cars a chubby. The Ford red with pearl flakes glittered under the florescent lights of the bay. By the time I got the white on the car and a couple of coats of clear fuck, she’d be pretty. Had to admit, this was some of my best work. I’d been pretty proud of myself.
I went back to my station to grab the whites so I could have them ready to go when the car was dry, then headed over to the second bay where the Firebird waited on the final coat of clear then I was done. I knew Landon and Ireland were chomping at the bit to get the car finished. I was too. From beginning to end, the Firebird had come to life in front of us. The kid who brought it in would lose his shit once he saw the final product.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and as I juggled the cans of paint in my hands to grab it, they both fell. I knew it was bad before the pain registered in my head. I heard the crack of bone, the heat of blood rushing from the top of my foot. I yelped and called for Ireland or Landon, whoever was closer.
Son of a bitch, what I don’t need right now. A fucking broke foot.Goddamn it. I’d kick something if it wouldn’t have done more damage than I already had. Meanwhile my phone continued to buzz in my pocket while I could do nothing but grimace and clench my fist as the pain so great seized by body, turning me into the biggest baby in the fucking world.
“Holy shit,” Ireland gasped. “Landon! Get in here!”
Ireland helped me to the chair so I could sit while Landon trampled through the bays to us. When he arrived, his muttered, “fuck me,” made me chuckle, even though even breathing hurt like a bastard.
“We have to get him to the hospital,” Landon said. “I’ll take him in the truck. You stay with the kids.”
Ireland nodded. “I’ll call ahead so they know you’re coming.”
Between the two of them, they hustled me out to Landon’s waiting pickup and carted me off. Each bump in the road was another jolt of excruciating pain, the likes of which I couldn’t properly explain because there was nothing like it in the world. Only someone who’d broken a bone could understand.
“Sorry, bro,” Landon said. “I know this sucks. Fuck... What were you thinking?”
“My phone rang,” I said between clenched teeth as every muscle from the tips of my toes to my ass clenched in mind numbing pain. “I tried to answer it while carrying paint, and, well, I dropped everything on my foot.”
“It’s because you’re not paying attention,” he grumbled. “You’re too fucked up in the head.”
