The Hurricane (20 page)

“I’m
The Hurricane
remember? That’s what I’m supposed to be,” I said with a sigh as I walked into the bathroom to get dressed.

“This was different and you know it,” he said standing to his feet as I walked out of the bathroom.

“This was about revenge,” he said.

“Didn’t help anything though, did it?” I bit out, because I still didn’t have Natalie.

“Well, it definitely shut Johnson up, since his mouth has to be wired shut for a few months,” he said with a chuckle as he sat beside me on the bed.

“But I shouldn’t have pushed you to fight,” he said quietly, staring at the floor.

“Cain, this was my decision. Johnson pushed me over the edge when he brought Natalie and Brooklyn into it,” I said, glancing at him.

“You don’t have that much pull on me, bro, don’t give yourself so much credit.” I said shoving his shoulder, and watching a small grin catch his lips.

“Trust me, you’ve been proving that your whole damn life,” he said with a laugh, and he stood and walked towards the door.

“Get some rest,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

The Next Day

I hated that my head was so fucked up. I hated that I missed them so much. I knew I didn’t deserve a life with them, and that pissed me off more than anything. I was headed back to Corpus and I wanted to drive my truck straight to her house instead of my quiet apartment. That cold and lonely fucking apartment. No giggles from Brooklyn, or the warmth of Natalie’s body against me.

Son of a bitch. I stared at my swollen knuckles as I gripped the steering wheel. Visions of my fists pounding into Johnson’s face ran through my mind. I was out of control, completely unaware that he was already unconscious, and continuing to pummel him.

52 seconds. It took 52 seconds to shut him down and put him out of commission for six months. Cain assured me that Johnson’s days of running his mouth were over. I would like to say I wouldn’t fight again. And in most situations, that’s the absolute truth, unless it was to protect them. Then I don’t think I could stop it if I tried. Which is the reason I needed to keep my distance.

The buzzing of my phone jarred my thoughts. I glanced down, hoping it was Natalie. It wasn’t. It was Scott, my boss, which was strange for Sunday. He rarely called me, and never on the weekend.

“Hello,” I said, clearing my scratchy throat. It was the first word I had said out loud since Cain left my room last night.

“Hamilton, hey man, I hate to bother you on the weekend.”

“No problem, what’s going on?” I asked.

“Listen, corporate called and they are needing a couple of guys to go out to do some welding. One of the rig-ships had a few hang ups during renovation. It’s a big job, and I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important. It comes with a pretty good bonus, if you’re interested,” he said, waiting for my response.

“How long?” I asked, not that I had a reason to be home every night anymore. Maybe some time away would be good for me. Out in the water, in the solitude, maybe it would be good for me.

“2, maybe 3 weeks, depending on how fast the job gets done?”

“Yeah, ok, count me in. When am I leaving?” I asked.

“It’s storm season, so they need it done ASAP. Chopper leaves in the morning. I know it’s short notice but . . .”

“No, I can do it,” I interrupted him.

“Thanks, man. Be at the heliport at 4 a.m.” he said.

“No problem, I’ll be there,” I said, and hung up the phone.

Going Through the Motions

Shit! I bolted out of bed with the sun peeking through my window.

“Why didn’t the alarm go off?” I mumbled as I jerked my phone off of my nightstand to check the time. Dead. Damn it. I pick up the attached charger and realized it wasn’t even plugged in. Shit. I ran into the living room to check the clock on the mantle. 7:02. I had fifty eight minutes to get us out the door and to school and work. Shit. Shit. Shit. I tossed and turned in bed until after 2 a.m. I had hardly slept in days, and I guess my exhaustion was catching up to me.

“Brooklyn, honey, wake up. Momma overslept and we’re going to be late if we don’t hurry,” I said as I rushed into her room, grabbing her school clothes we picked out the night before and putting them on her bed.

“Five minutes, momma,” she mumbled.

“Brookie, we don’t have five minutes, I need you to get up ok?” I said as I shuffled out of her room, and to the laundry room to grab my scrubs. A shower would have to wait this morning. But coffee could not. I flipped the switch on the pot and my mouth began to water as the scent of liquid heaven filled the house.

I threw my clothes on and pulled my hair into a ponytail before I walked back into Brooklyn’s room, hoping she hadn’t fallen back to sleep. Luckily, she was dressed and tying her shoes.

“You’re such a big kid,” I said as I kissed her forehead, pulling her by the hand into her bathroom to fix her hair. I brushed her hair as she brushed her teeth. We were doing pretty good time wise.

“Momma, you have stuff all over your shirt,” she said with a giggle as I looked down, seeing a long strip of dried toothpaste on the front of my top.

“Damn it,” I mumbled. “Sorry, you didn’t hear that,” I said as I finished her hair.

“Can I say that word if I’m a big girl?” she asked, putting her toothbrush back in the holder.

“I guess when you’re grown you can,” I said in a hurry as I put the brush on the counter.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it,” she sang as she skipped back into her room.

“Brooklyn!” I scolded as I walked back into the living room.

“What?” she giggled, “You said I was a big girl.”

“You can say it when you’re an adult, how’s that?” I yelled from my room as I threw my phone in my purse, then ran to the kitchen for my coffee travel mug and protein shake.

“Ready Freddy?” I asked as I walked to the entryway, where Brooklyn was waiting on me.

“Ready Freddy!” she repeated with a smile. That smile that warmed my heart. It was the first time she had really smiled in a couple of days. I was thankful that she didn’t seem so sad today. But just that thought reminded me of Ryker. I had actually forgotten about missing him for a few minutes this morning. The knot in my stomach churned up as soon as I thought of him. I should have known that wouldn’t last long.

A few minutes later, I ran Brooklyn into her school. I still wasn’t comfortable letting her out at the door alone. I had to make sure she was safe inside, at the very least. The teachers and even the principle had assured me that the kids knew where to go, and there was always someone available to help. I knew it wouldn’t be long before Brooklyn demanded to be dropped off at the door, so I was going to take what I could get for now.

I sat in my car, taking a breath for the first time this morning. Remembering that my phone still needed to charge, I grabbed my purse and searched for it. When I put it on the charger and the screen lit up, my heart dropped into my stomach. I had three texts from Ryker. My hands started to shake as I opened the messages.

3:50 a.m.

I can’t stop thinking about you. But I know you deserve more. You deserve better than me. I constantly fight the urge to show up at your house. I’m hoping a little time away will make this easier. I’m heading out to the Gulf of Mexico for work, I’ll be gone 2–3 wks. I won’t have signal, but I’m sending you Cain’s number in case you need anything. Please call him if you do. I worry about you.

3:54 a.m.

I miss you. Both of you.

My vision was blurry from my tears that threatened to fall as I read the second message over and over. The third message was Cain’s contact information.

Without a second thought, I tried to call him back. He didn’t say exactly when he was leaving. But his phone went straight to voicemail. I tried again, hoping to hear his voice. But all I got was the automated voicemail.

“I miss you,” I whispered, the tears winning and falling down my cheeks, as I stared at his picture on my phone. It was a shot of Ryker and Brooklyn on his motorcycle. I wanted to change it from my screensaver a hundred times since he walked out my door, but I couldn’t. I took a deep breath and started my car, knowing I had to keep moving. I had to get to work and put on a smile for everyone around me.

But as I drove, the damn tears wouldn’t stop. They kept flowing, like a waterfall. I was getting frustrated the closer I got to work, getting pissed at myself for not being able to pull it together.

I pulled into the parking lot of my office, further from the doctor’s suite I work at than usual and put my head on the steering wheel. I had ten minutes before I had to be inside and I needed every second.

“Stop crying, damn it,” I whispered to myself before I heard a tap on my window. I turned my head to the left and saw Christy standing there with a worried expression, her long blonde hair in a messy bun on top of her head. I hit the window button as I looked up at her.

“Are you out here talking to yourself?” she laughed, but then leaned down closer to me.

“What’s wrong, why are you crying?” she asked, but walked over to the passenger’s side and opened the door, climbing inside before I had a chance to answer.

“What happened?” she said as she turned toward me.

I cleared my throat, trying my best to keep the tears from falling again. My face was already hot and stiff. I probably looked like death.

“Ryker texted me this morning, he said he missed me. I just don’t know what to do,” I said, my voice cracking and lip trembling, doing everything I could to hold the tears back.

“Did you call him back?”

“I tried, but he’s going out into the Gulf for work. I guess he’s already gone,” I said, trying to catch the tears as they fell.

“Look, you didn’t really give me details about why you guys quit seeing each other, and although I don’t like that one bit, because you know my ass is nosy,” she said with a giggle, “I respect your privacy, so I won’t pry. But . . . I think you should give it another chance, at least try to talk things out. I mean, it’s obvious you’re miserable without him.”

“It’s complicated,” I whispered.

“Everything is, darling, nothing worth having comes easy,” she said, and started to dig through her purse, pulling a cosmetic bag out.

“Now, you need to dry your eyes, and put some damn make up on, girl,” she laughed, putting the bag in my lap.

She was right, nothing is easy. But this was way more complicated than she understood. And it wasn’t just about me. It was about Brooklyn.

A Broken Record