TrickSweat drips from my forehead, trailing down to my eyes. Right as I know it's going to slip in and sting like a son of a bitch, I use my forearm to wipe it away. A happy sigh releases the tension from my shoulders and I glance around. This is my happy place, my shop is everything. From the oil-stained concrete floors to the walls holding the tools that allow me to do the job at hand. It's small, barely big enough for me, sometimes a helper, and ten bikes, but it's mine. Free and clear is something I never thought I would say, but it's true. This place is mine and nobody is going to take that away from me.Unless I end up having to serve time.Most days I can keep that thought at bay, other days it's at the forefront of my mind. I've been there before - serving time - and I don't want to go back. I can't go back after I've had this taste of freedom.In my jeans pocket, my phone vibrates. Forgetting I have grease all over my hands, I reach in, pulling the device out. Fuck
Hadley"What do you wanna wear today?" I take a huge drink of the iced coffee I made myself first thing this morning. Some mornings I need the jolt of caffeine worse than others; and today I really need it."My pink shoes," she claps her hands.I can't help the smile spreading across my face. We got those pink Converse at Goodwill brand new with tags, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to afford them at the time. It was before I realized I had a gift for what I've turned into my side business. When there had been no extra money for anything, I figured out how creative and motivated I am."Pink shoes we got," I hold them up. "But what else?"She thinks for a moment, her expression pensive. "Jeans like yours."I look down seeing my jeans with the hole in the knee. I guess I should thank my lucky stars that deconstructed jeans are now a thing. These are just so old they're falling apart, but everyone thinks I spent a hundred bucks on them. "Okay girlfriend, go grab them,"
TrickPretend she's not there? I'd have to be blind to even attempt it. She ogled my dick like she was a starving woman in a desert earlier but she made no move toward me, and I appreciate the restraint. I still feel the same pull she had on me yesterday, but I've promised myself this is about the hours I need to serve and the child I'm going to help. That doesn't mean I don't notice what a beautiful woman she is and I can ignore the obvious interest that sparks when she thinks I'm not looking.I pull out the chair for Riley to have seat. She climbs on, sitting up on her knees so she can easily see over the edge of the table. "Which page do you want to color?" I grab the box of crayons. They're small in my big hands, and it reminds me I need to be careful with this little girl. People like me can easily break others if we aren't mindful."You do this one," she tears out a page, putting in front of me. "I'll do this one."She pulls her lip in between her teeth and looks back
Trick"G," I sigh, running a hand over my unshaven face. "I've worked with you more than any other motherfucker who brought their bike in here to me without the money to pay for the work I did. I've cut you deal after deal." He rolls his eyes at me. Rolls his eyes. This little shit standing in front of me is about to feel the wrath of my anger. If it wasn't for his mom, he would have felt the wrath two weeks ago when I started working on his damn bike. He's wearing his hat to the side in a way that irritates the fuck out of me. He has tattoos on his arms and those piss me off, too. They're typical, they don't mean anything to him. I found this out when I asked what the Chinese symbol on his arm meant. He had no fuckin' clue…said he'd just picked it off the wall. That's the kind of person I'm dealing with here. "Dude," he starts."First of all, I'm not your dude," I rise to my full height, squaring my shoulders. I see he's mistaken my kindness for weakness. I'll make sure h
Hadley We should have been home two hours ago, but errands for the Etsy shop have eaten up my evening. I must have been featured on a blog, or Instagram...something, because I picked up fifteen orders last night. When stuff like this happens, I wish I could figure out why because I'd love to make it consistent each month, instead of the feast or famine. I squint against the sun setting over the river, pushing the visor down as far as I can. The low-lying rays are reflecting off the metal of the bridge, and I'm reminded why I hate to make the journey, this time of day."Mom?" Riley quietly questions from the back seat. "I'm hungry."Glancing at the clock, I see it's going on seven. Her damn bedtime is eight. How am I supposed to make this work? There are never enough hours in the day, never enough days in the week, and by the time the month is over, I wonder what the hell's happened to all the things I was going to do on my to-do list. "I know you are, I'm so sorry, sweetheart
HadleyPushing the button to roll the window down, I try not to weep as I realize who's stopped to help us. At least it's not a stranger – not that we know Patrick any better than one – but it's a familiar face. My hands shake as I brace them against the steering wheel, trying to calm my galloping heart. If I still had those Xanax I used to take when the careful life I'd planned for myself had spiraled out of control, I'd pop one of those things in a fucking nanosecond right now."Hey," I fake a bravado I don't have. I'm two seconds away from crumbling into a sobbing ball of mush. Everything inside of me wishes stuff like this doesn't bother me, that I'm able to take care of incidentals like this on my own. The truth is I can't, and I don't know I'll ever be able to. But for the last two years there's been no one for me to lean on or ask for help. The fact he's here right now, means way more to me than it should."You okay?" he asks, taking his glasses off his face. His hazel eye
TrickI bite the inside of my cheek to keep the chuckle to myself. Right now, I'm not sure Hadley can handle it, but damn if Riley isn't a fucking breath of fresh air."You are, huh?"She nods, and it looks like she wants to say more, but she's holding her tongue. Is she quiet because she's been taught not to speak her mind, or is she worried about how her mom will react? Both thoughts run parallel in my head, and I eventually tell her what I'm thinking, because no kid should have to censor themselves – at least not in my presence."Mom had errands to run, and we ran out of time," she supplies as I glance back at her."Is that right?" I'm holding back another laugh as I take in her mom.I looked at Hadley the day we met, but I'm seeing her in a whole different light now. That day, she was calm, cool, put together, and the epitome of a single mother who had all her shit straight. What I'm seeing now, isn't that persona at all. Tonight, here on the side of the road, I feel li
HadleyMy nerves are shot, completely and totally raw and jagged. I haven't been this nervous in years, probably not since the day I walked down the aisle and joined my life with another person. And we all know how that turned out. My GPS flashes the five-minute warning at me. I'm really close to Trick's shop.I haven't been paying much attention since I turned onto the maze of downtown streets, but quickly I realize I'm in a much more blue-collar neighborhood. Things are well taken care of but there's still a tarnish of age and use on them that comes with doing manual labor. Glancing down at the GPS, I check the number and commit it to memory. Buildings are so close together here it's going to be easy for me to pass it if I'm not paying attention. I'm not entirely sure if I could get back here by myself again, and pulling over to start the GPS again is a no-go for me. Slowing to a crawl, I gaze into my rearview mirror, glad no one's behind me and look for building 526. When