TWELVE
Zeus
“What’s that?” Mike looks over my shoulder as we wait on the tipper to drop our next load of base course for spreading.
I angle the image Belle sent me toward him. “My next tattoo.”
He narrows his eyes, taking in the detail of the picture, the colours. “That’s some good work, man. Who drew it? They local?”
“She’s not working right now, but she will be.”
“She?” A grin spreads across his weather-chapped lips as he elbows me in the side. “True, bro.”
“Knock it off, man.” I kill the screen and pocket my phone, thankful for the deafening roar of the stones as they slide out of the bed of the truck.
Mike jerks his chin at me, the shit-eating grin still on his face as he walks away. I take a last swig of my water before capping the bottle and tossing it under the shade of the gazebo.
Ed sighs, arms stretched over his head as he rises from his spot on the grass. “Back to it, I guess.”
“Yep.” No rest for the wicked, that’s for sure.
I climb into the cab of the grader and switch the radio on above my head. Music fills the small space, amplified when I shut the door. The following hours pass quickly, the music helping me to zone out from everything that’s been on my mind of late—especially Belle.
She took the image I sent her and made it her own. I spent a solid ten minutes on the edge of my bed this morning with my phone in hand, staring at the message. What does that mean, her redesigning the picture? What’s the hidden message in that?
My phone vibrates in my pocket while I work, but given it’s against company policy for me to have it in hand while I drive—and being caught can mean instant dismissal—it’s easy to push the thought that it might be Belle to the back of my mind. I focus on the job at hand, starved by the time lunch rolls around, and park the grader behind the roller to go join the other guys.
Mike lifts his arm in greeting as I approach. “Hey, bro. I was just telling Clint here about that tatt you’re getting. What’s the name of the chick who drew it so we can look her up when she’s back at work?”
My skin prickles. It’s a harmless question, but the thought of sharing any part of her with another guy leaves my fist balled up at my side. “I’ll get you a card for her shop once she’s open.” Fuck knows how I’d cope with her hands on jackasses like this bunch.
Fuck knows how I’m still functioning knowing how many people she’s already touched. It’s just a job, Z.
“Show us the picture, man.” Clint pops his head up, fingers curling for my phone.
I slide it out of my pocket and note the new messages were in fact from her. Ignoring what they say for now, I tap on the image and pass my phone over. Clint wraps his hand around the device, letting out a low whistle as he takes the artwork in.
“That’s some serious talent, man. She freehand that?”
“Yep.” The picture shows the image in pencil on card—no fancy design programs for my girl. A swell of pride runs through me at his clear appreciation of Belle’s skills.
“Let me see.” One of the younger guys gestures for the phone as he sets his lunch down.
Clint passes it over. The young guy lifts his eyebrows in approval. “Nice.” He picks my phone off his knee to hand it back, yet his fat thumb knocks the image. It shrinks back to the message thread as he lets out an “oops.”
I lunge for the device, yet it’s too late: he’s already seen what I haven’t had a chance to read yet.
“She your girl?” he asks, genuinely curious as he hands the phone back.
The answer falls from my lips before I have a chance to think the consequences through. “Yeah.”
“She pretty? Don’t tell me she’s talented and pretty,” he teases.
“Fucking stunning.” I tap on her image at the top, navigating to her profile so I can stare at her beautiful face.
“Tinny fucking bastard,” Ed scoffs as he uncaps his drink. “How do you get all the luck?”
“Got to get some after the shit run I’ve had, I suppose.”
“True that,” Mike says with a toast. “Eat up, fuckers. We’ve got another course to lay before the day’s out. Hot mix comes tomorrow.”
I settle down on the grass and pull my lunch from the cooler bag: pre-cooked rice and chicken with broccoli mixed through. Having Belle back in town has given me the missing motivation to work out. The guys will have a legitimate reason to call me big dog again soon enough.
The crew chat amongst themselves while I balance the meal on one knee, settling my phone on the other. I tap Belle’s thread open and read her message.
B: I take it by the silence you don’t like it? I’m sorry if I offended you by reworking it, but I really think this would look amazing on your chest. Talk soon x
It’s just a little X. No big deal. It’s a fucking olive branch. That singular letter signifies so much more than she knows. I tap out a reply as I shovel cold rice mix into my mouth, reminding myself that the loss of flavour will be worth it when I’m the size she loves again.
Z: Been busy at work. I’m not allowed my phone out when I’m driving. I think it’s fucking amazing, dove. Some of the guys saw it and want your business details.
“How long you been with her, then?” Mike asks with a jerk of his chin toward my phone as he settles on the grass beside me.
“We hooked up a while back.” It’s not exactly a lie. Just ain’t the truth either.
“You’ve never mentioned her before.” He narrows his gaze on me as I chew my mouthful.
“Didn’t want to share her.”
He makes a grunt in the back of his throat and lifts his chin in acknowledgement. “So. What’s the verdict?”
“About the job?”
He nods.
“I’m going to take it.” I cast my eye over the group as Belle’s dots dance on my screen. “I don’t want to leave you guys in the shit, though.”
“Nah, bro.” He gives my shoulder a light punch. “It’ll force those tight-arses at the top to invest in some more drivers. You might actually do us a favour; you know how it is when one of you fuckers is sick—we’re stuck. They need to train more guys to get behind the wheel, or employ more. This might be a good push.”
“I hope so.” I hate letting people down. It’s always been a source of conflict for me given the contrast to my other personality trait—stubborn defiance. “Thomas talk to you?”
“He asked to catch up after work tomorrow. You know what it’s about?”
I nod. “Think it’ll be good for you. Just hear him out, okay?”
He turns the corners of his mouth down, eyebrows lifted. “Okay.”
“I’ve only got to give a week’s notice, but I put in for two when I spoke with him.”
“Mate,” he says with raised brow. “If you need to go earlier, go. Take a few days off between jobs, for fuck’s sake. Have a rest.”
Hardly as though any good would come from that. “I’ll give two. They don’t need me to start in a hurry.”
“Fair enough.” He nods toward my phone as it chimes a reply. “I’ll let you get back to your mystery woman, hey?”
I flash him a smile before looking toward the screen as I unlock it.
B: Guess I should get a business underway then, huh?
She punctuates her message with a laughing emoticon. I reach down to reply when her dots dance again and another reply comes through.
B: I’ve got a favour to ask. It’s a huge one and I hope I’m not overstepping the mark by asking.
She could ask me to walk over hot coals for her and I wouldn’t blink twice.
Z: Fire away.
I finish my lunch while her dots stop and start. Either she’s writing a fucking novel, or she can’t figure out what to say. Both options have me waiting with bated breath for the next message.
B: Long story short, I didn’t save up as much as I need to get this business off the ground. I kind of underestimated how much would get tied up in permits and legal costs. So I don’t have enough to lease shop space.
What is she getting at? Whatever it is, she can’t bring herself to say it judging by the dots that come and go.
Z: You want to borrow money?
Her reply is instant.
B: Are you offering?
Why do I feel as though I’m being taken for a ride? Was this whole charade a precursor to her swindling cash out of me? One fucking plane ticket and she thinks I’m loaded when it comes to her.
Z: Nope. Stone broke.
Not true, but hey, she doesn’t need to know what I’ve managed to set aside.
B: Forget I brought this up. Sorry, Z. I’ll let you get back to work.
I lift my gaze to find Mike watching me. He turns his attention to Ed, joining in on the conversation as I return to my Belle-induced solitude.
Z: No sweat. I’m proud of what you’ve done while you’ve been gone, dove. You really were born to do this shit.
The message hangs, telling me it’s delivered but not viewed. I slide my phone back in my pocket and pack my lunch container away while I listen to the guys discuss the first round of the footy played this past weekend.
I have all intentions of picking up on the conversation, of joining in, but the words are just that—words. The shit Ed says, the things the younger guys respond with, none of it sinks in while I replay the conversation with Belle in my mind. Does she see me as an easy target? Not as though it could be anything else when she’s still shacked up with that other fuckhead.
Still a love-blind fool.
“Time to get back to work, boys.” Mike claps his hands as he stands, motivating everyone to get to their feet.
I lift my cooler and head for the grader, smiling a little at how true his words are. Belle is a distraction I can’t afford to have. A new job, the car project… I’ve got plenty to keep me occupied. I shouldn’t even entertain the idea of seeing her while she’s with that jackass.
I need to step back now before I do something really stupid. Something like going to war with that fucking boyfriend of hers so I can show Belle exactly what happens when she decides to play games with me.