Unbreakable (26 page)

Cory

The job site was in Reseda. I had to leave early to beat the traffic and make it on time. Alex hadn’t come to sleep on my shoulder that night.
It’s a good thing if it means she’s sleeping better on her own.
But her absence meant no sleep for me, and I went to the kitchen to make a strong pot of coffee. While it brewed, I took a shower.

When I came out of the shower in the guest bathroom, Alex was in the kitchen, staring absently at a coffee mug in her hand. I froze. I had only a towel wrapped around my waist and my clothes for the day were thrown on the chair clear across the room, in the living area. I cleared my throat.

Alex looked around dully. It seemed her gaze flickered over my body, her eyes widening slightly before she averted them.

“I didn’t think you’d be up so early,” I said.

“I never slept. Sorry, I’ll let you get dressed.” She slipped back down the hall to her room and didn’t reemerge until I was nearly out the door.

“You could have woken me,” I told her gently. I tapped my shoulder. “Always available.”

She nodded, not returning my smile. “I need to get used to sleeping alone. Either that, or start taking pills, which I don’t really want to do.” She smiled faintly. “Off to work? I remember the days.”

“Soon enough, you’ll be back.”

She nodded again. “Have a good day, Cory.”

“You too, Alex.”

In my truck, I rested his head on the steering wheel and closed my eyes, which burned from lack of sleep.

“I can’t keep doing this,” I muttered.

But she could. She was trying to sleep on her own, to wean herself from me, and if I had half a brain in my head, I’d do the same. I regretted now, more than anything, agreeing to move in to her place. “I could have figured it out,” I said, my words nearly drowned by the roar of my truck’s engine coming to life. “I could have stalled for time at the hearing, found a place and…”

And never seen Alexandra again.

I revved the engine mercilessly, no doubt waking all the nearby homeowners in their Craftsman bungalows and angular Eichlers and rounded Spanish-style villas. Not mansions, but comfortable homes, family homes, and as out of reach to me as if they had been mansions.

“So get to work,” I muttered and tore the truck out of the neighborhood just as the sun dragged itself out of the eastern horizon.

#

The job was a big one for Martin Construction: basic remodel of a small, bank-owned foreclosure they wanted to spruce up before reselling. Nothing complicated, but every room needed an overhaul and the plumbing and electrical weren’t even close to code. It meant at least two weeks of solid work, and that’s just what I needed right then. My boss, Randall Martin, wasn’t yet on the jobsite, as per his usual routine. But Vic Ruiz and all the guys were already there, just starting up when I came into the kitchen. It had been stripped down to the studs.

Vic stepped over a stack of tile to greet me with a fist-bump. “Hey, man.”

“Hey, Vic.” I looked to the others: Rob, Jose, Miguel and Doug. The same crew I’d been working with for two years. “Where’s the boss?”

“Getting his beauty rest,” Vic laughed, though he kept his voice low. “Speaking of which, you look like shit. Rough night?”

“You could say that,” Cory said. I’d been assigned to fix the house’s varied plumbing issues, and I slid under the sink while the other guys got down to their tasks in different parts of the house. “Still can’t sleep and when I do, it’s not pretty.”

“Sorry to hear that, man.” Vic—a master electrician—began sorting through a tangle of wires in a square hole they’d cut in the drywall. “So how is it? Living on the beach? With her?”

I was grateful the fat coil of black piping under the sink hid my face. “Keep it down, will you? It’s fine. Not that it matters. I won’t be there much longer.”

“Call me crazy,” Vic said, “but if someone offered me their house by the beach for a dollar a month, you couldn’t pry me outta there with a crow bar.”

“Doesn’t feel right.” I lined the interior edge of a new pipe with yellow PVC glue. “It’s not my house.”

Vic blew air out his cheeks. “Whatever you say.” There was a pause as we worked, then Vic said, “Hey, your birthday is Saturday, right? The big three-oh.”

Doug Liman came in and resumed his work on the floor, catching the tail end of the conversation. “Hey, yeah, we gotta celebrate, man. Get some beers, maybe catch the game. Dodgers have a double-header in town this weekend.”

“Oh yeah?” I said, sliding out from under the sink. “Who against?”

Vic and Doug and exchanged looks. “Since when do you not have the Dodgers’ schedule memorized?” Vic laughed.
“I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, back off, Vic,” Doug said. “Cory’s been too busy being the Hero of United One to keep up with baseball.”

“Shut it, Liman,” I muttered, retreating under the sink. The guy was a prick, the kind of cocky, lazy bum who talked twice as much as he worked and then say you were a kiss-ass if you called him on it.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Doug persisted. “I heard you got grateful women throwing themselves at you. Seen any tail? What about that pretty redhead from the hospital? The one with the cupcakes? She looked pretty goddamned sweet, herself, am I right?”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I slid out from under the sink. “I said, shut the fuck up, Doug.”

“Touchy,” Doug chuckled. “You got a hard-on for her?”

I surged to my feet, my hands balled into fists.

Vic held out his hands. “Hey guys, let’s be cool…”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you do.” Doug didn’t look up from his work. “Like I said, pretty fucking sweet. I’d like to lick her frosting…”

A red haze descended and in the next instant I flew at Doug. The pile of cheap tile toppled, some shattering, as we grappled on the unfinished floor. I gripped Doug by the collar, lifted him up, and slammed my fist into his mouth.

“You don’t talk about her,” I seethed as Vic and someone else—Miguel Fuentes, maybe—hauled me off of the bastard.

Doug scrambled to standing, touching a hand to his bloodied lip. “What the fuck is your problem, man? Jesus!”

I shook out of Miguel and Vic’s grip and leveled a finger at Doug. “Not one more goddamned word, Doug. Not one.”

“Fuck you, Cory,” Doug said, and spat a wad of red saliva onto the floorboards. “Everyone knows you’re up that rich bitch’s skirt. She’s renting her house to you for a fucking dollar?” He snorted a laugh. “What else? You gotta service her every night? Is that why you can’t sleep?”

“Shut up, Doug,” Vic warned.

“Hero of United One,” Doug scoffed, spitting again. “Pussy-whipped bitch is more like it.”

I didn’t know what was wrong with me—I wasn’t a violent guy—and yet I charged at Doug again, ready to knock him out and shut his stupid mouth. But Vic and Miguel caught me and Doug skipped backward, right into Randall Martin.

The boss glanced around at the broken tile, Doug’s bloody lip, and me. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Nothing, boss,” Vic said. “Right guys? It’s cool. We’re all cool here.”

“Fuck that,” Doug said, pointing at me. “He attacked me.” He wiped blood off his lip and held it up. The entire crew was there now, watching. “See that? That’s called assault and battery, asshole. You’re going to need your rich bitch lawyer to save you again when I sue your ass.”

“Now, hold up,” Vic said. “No one is suing anyone. Are you, Doug?”

“Watch me.”

I didn’t say anything but fought the urge to clout the ugly sneer off Doug Liman’s face.

“You’re not suing anyone,” Vic snapped. “You said some rude shit and took a fist in the face for it. Man up.”

Doug withered a little, and then relented completely as the other guys voiced their agreement. He held up his hands in surrender. “All right, all right. Just stay the hell away from me, Bishop.”

A silence fell and Randall, a skinny man with watery blue eyes and a nasal voice, crossed his arms over his chest. His stern look held as much authority as a substitute teacher. “Mmmkay, glad that’s settled. But seems we have some broken tile. That’s out of your check, Bishop. I’m going to Stoneworks and replace those. The rest of you get back to work. No more funny business.”

“
Si
, boss,” Vic said.

“Got a minute, Mr. Martin?” I asked, my eyes still locked on Doug.

“I got the time it takes to get back to my car.”

I brushed past Doug on my way out, daring him to say one more word. He looked petulant but kept his mouth shut for a change. I followed the boss to the driveway.

“Not a good idea to punch a man, Bishop,” Randall said. “It would be within his rights to sue you.”

“I know, sir,” I said, swallowing down my anger. “Won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t. Or I’ll have to let you go. You’re not irreplaceable, you know. Hero or not.”

My hands clenched again. “Yeah, so, I wanted to ask you about my journeyman hours. I’m going to take the GC test on Sunday and I just wanted to make sure that you uh…”

Randal stopped at his car—a forest green Subaru—and heaved a sigh. “I told you weeks ago, when you were in the hospital, I took care of that.”

“Okay, yeah, thanks. Just wanted to make sure since I’m taking the test on Sunday.”

Randall climbed into his car. “You said that already, Bishop. I did my part, so quit hassling me over it.”

I waited until my boss was out of the driveway and out of sight, and let out a measured sigh. Nothing to do but trust the guy.

I went back inside the house where Rob Santos had taken over the tiling in the kitchen so that Doug could work out back, as far away from me as possible.

“You okay?” Vic asked.

“Give us a minute, Rob?”

“Sure.” A chain-smoker, Rob was already pulling out a battered pack of Marlboro reds from the front pocket of his work shirt.

When he’d gone out to the backyard, I rounded on Vic. “Don’t talk about her again,” I said. “Or my situation. Not around here. It’s no one’s business but mine.”

Anger flared in Vic’s eyes but died quickly. “Yeah, man. You’re right, sorry. But Doug Liman’s a knucklehead. Don’t let him get under your skin.”

Too late.
I ran a hand over my tired eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I’m just…burnt today.”

“You look like you haven’t slept in days,” Vic said. “What gives? Robbery shit? Or is it really her?”

I glanced at my friend, searching for signs of the same crude disrespect for Alex that had earned Doug a fist in the mouth. There was nothing like that in Vic. “It’s all your fault, you know,” I said finally, kneeling down to sort out the pipes I was supposed to be installing under the sink.

Vic frowned. “What’s my fault? Calling on Alex’s help at the hearing? Hey, it was either that or Georgia skips town with Callie, right?”

“Yeah, I should thank you
and
kick your ass.”

“You’re really tied up in this woman,
si?
” He held up his hands when my head snapped up. “Come on, it’s me. I haven’t seen you like this…since never. You and Alex…?” He waggled his eyebrows like Groucho Marx.

I might’ve laughed if I didn’t have Doug’s obscene words echoing in my mind. “There’s nothing happening. It’s impossible. The only reason she’s helping me out is because she thinks she owes me from the robbery. So to answer your question, there is no ‘me and Alex’ and there never will be.”

“But you want there to be.”

Understatement of the year.

“It doesn’t matter what I want. She’s got a whole life and lifestyle going on. She’s not going to toss it away for a poor schlub…a single father with no 401K plan or country club membership.”

“You think she gives a crap about all that stuff?”

“How could she not?”

“Have you
asked
her? She didn’t seem like the stuck-up kind to me.”

“She’s not,” I said, working as I spoke. It helped keep my tone flat and casual. “But that doesn’t mean she’s not used to a certain way of living.”

“So what? She’s out of your league? Is that really a thing?”

“Look, I’ve got a shit salary, no prospects, and a kid from another woman. I can’t take her to fancy dinners or shows or whatever else she likes, and I’ll eat glass before I let her pay for any of it. Despite what Doug says, I’m not whipped. I’m just…”

“Crazy about her?”

I felt myself tense and started to deny. Instead, I said, “She makes it so damn easy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Alex went with us—Callie and me—to visit my dad. You should have seen her. She treated my dad like a human being instead of like someone halfway in the grave. And Pops liked her too, in his own way. I could tell. And Callie…” I shook my head, laughing shortly. “Callie couldn’t stop talking about her. On the drive back to Georgia’s, she just went on and on. Because for someone who doesn’t want kids, Alex sure as hell is great with them.”

I looked up to catch Vic watching me, a told-you-so look on his face.