Detour: A Creekwood Novel (Creekwood Series Book 1)
Detour: Chapter 33

Days. It’s been days since I worked. Joe doesn’t even have the balls to call me himself to deliver the bad news either. He’s been making the hourly associates do his dirty work which makes it that much worse, knowing he’s feeding them bullshit they’re forced to regurgitate over the phone to me. My questions go unanswered just like the constant knocks at my door. By the end of the week the punishment is loud and clear—Joe’s icing me out.

The irony that I’m doing the same to the boys is not lost on me, yet my hands are tied in both situations.

Coty knocks every day before leaving for work and again when he returns. I wait until he’s gone to head out myself then make sure I arrive back before he does so there’s no chance of collision. Texts and calls have been ignored as well. Beckett’s joined in the pursuit as well but I dodge him, too. I almost had a run-in with Marc earlier in the week when I was folding laundry but I ducked down to hide like the coward they think I am.

The only thing saving me from losing it entirely is my newfound sanctuary in the local library. The extra free time has been filled with days of job hunting and nights of reading, both accessible at no cost thankfully.

My night class starting this week helped, too. Helped to pass the time and to keep my mind occupied, but useless in getting me money. I’ve only had a couple more interviews but no call-backs yet.

Drew, oblivious to my neighborly dilemma, invited me out to a movie tonight which I happily accepted.

The only upside in all this mayhem is I haven’t heard from my mother. I’m cautiously grateful for her silence after her last nasty call but, always waiting for the other shoe to drop, I wouldn’t be surprised if she chose to pop back up at the most inconvenient of times. Come to think of it, there is no such thing as a convenient time to deal with Rianne. Whatever the boys may have said to her might’ve actually worked in keeping her away. Yet another problem of mine they were forced to handle.

Exhaling, I pull into the library to dive right back in where I left off yesterday. Four hours until Coty leaves work gives me three and a half to replace a new job. I just hope it’s enough. Something needs to change before I end up back where I started—broke, broken, and under Rianne’s cruel thumb.

I pick up my pace through the automatic doors.

* * *

Husky notes bleed out of Drew’s speakers as he drives me home from his friend’s house. Bebe Rexha’s voice gets me every time and “I’m A Mess” is no exception. He pretends not to like it but I see his head bobbing out of the corner of my eye and I crack a small smile.

I lean my head back, inhaling Drew’s fruity scent. The smell saturates the confined space along with memories of our nostalgic drives together. My need for these may have subsided but the comfort they provide hasn’t, and even though I’m not supposed to, I allow myself a few seconds to absorb the relief Drew’s presence always offers.

The movie, an action one, was the ultimate diversion. No sappy love story. No deep family divide. Just mindless chatter between illogical carnage. Simply perfect.

Needing to stop off at a friend’s afterward helped, too. The alcohol his friend supplied in the short time we were there was just what I needed to clear the remaining thoughts swirling in my head. The expensive vodka was much smoother going down and now I’m just hoping the same proves true if it happens to come back up, too.

Tipsy from the shots, I sway in the front seat singing off-key as Creekwood comes into view. I fight to keep the hazy effects present through the gloom quickly resurfacing. Goodbye blurry edges, hello blunt reality. It was fun while it lasted. Kind of. Drew, being the steadfast designated driver, proved to be a terrible drinking buddy after all. It must be nice to have a stable career you have a responsibility to.

Parked, he looks over to me with questioning eyes. Questioning and suspicious. He hasn’t pushed the topic that I’ve deemed off limits but he didn’t have to. I can feel the sadness seeping out of my pores and I know he can as well.

“Need me to walk you up?”

I groan.

That voice. The pity it holds. The worry it represents.

I thank Drew before folding myself out of his low car.

“Don’t be home. Don’t be home. Don’t be home,” I chant with each step up the stairs.

Being on the sloppier side of my night, I forgot to do a vehicle check on the way in. I never forget.

Coty’s head snaps up from where it was resting on the door—my door to be exact—as I reach the top. So much for getting inside undetected.

His eyes travel up my body starting at my naked toes in my slides while I stand here motionless. Busy debating whether I can chase down Drew in my current state, I miss Coty getting to his feet.

“Hey.”

The raw tenderness in his voice catches me off guard for the second time tonight.

I wave a hand halfheartedly and drop my gaze to his feet, landing on a brand-new doormat where Coty’s perfect ass was previously parked.

“I, uh, got you one finally. I hope you like it.”

The overly sweet act feels out of place compared to the amount of torture I’ve endured all week and irritation sours the surprise.

Pushing past, I kick it aside with my foot. “You shouldn’t have done that. I won’t be here much longer,” I spit with as much venom as I feel churning in my veins.

Coty blocks my hands with his body but I keep my eyes locked on his rapidly rising chest, refusing to look up.

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. Whatever happened, I’ll fix it, Angela. Please. Just…don’t leave.” At my silence he continues, “Or I’ll leave. Anything. Whatever you want.” His voice lowers as does his head.

What I want? I want my life to make sense. I want a life that I actually have a say over. One that happiness resides without a constant cloud of misery hovering in the distance, waiting for the perfect time to strike and ruin what I’ve worked my ass off for. I want a fucking chance. A chance to be who I want and not what others keep telling me I am. A chance at being the woman my mother never could be. One that loves freely without consequences coming to those who dare to love her back.

I want the boys next door to have a fraction of what they deserve without having to fight off my relentless demons in the process. I want them to know their parents are morons for missing out on some of the best humans I’ve ever met. I want to not only be a part of their family but to earn a spot there all on my own without their constant help. I want to stand as strong with them as I can without.

But that’s not in the cards for me. It never was. They’ve been stacked against me from day one and I can’t place that burden on them, too. I won’t.

Reluctantly meeting Coty’s sad eyes, I whisper, “please move,” then sigh when it comes out broken just like my heart.

Holding my stare for a moment longer, I watch as a multitude of emotions pass through his eyes leaving me dizzy. Then huffing through his nose, he flies to his side of the hall, flinging the door open and closed without looking back. I don’t know what hurts worse, that I pushed him away or that he’s letting me. I flinch from the sound echoing off the walls and drop my head. Eyeing the pristine welcome mat, I nudge it further away using my toe. This tumultuous cycle I call life isn’t accepting anymore visitors.