Unbreakable (30 page)

“Oh my god, your test,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “I forgot.”

“It’s okay. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” He zipped up the bag and looked at me—not with fiery anger as I expected, but only a kind of sad resignation. “How was it? Bad?”

“No,” I said bitterly. “It was…unexpected. He forgave me…in his own way.”
And that’s all I’m going to say about that.
I’d rather eat hot coals than tell him what Drew had proposed as a “solution” to our problem. Just the thought of it made my stomach churn.

“Anyway, I’m sorry. I forgot he had the key. I didn’t expect him to come over.”

Cory shrugged, his expression dark. “Does it really matter?”

“I guess not.”

“I expected to hate him. I was ready to hate him. But…”

“He’s not hate-able,” I finished.

“No, he’s not. But you told me he knew I was here.” Again, no anger. His tone was dull and heavy, like a deep bruise. “Why did you lie?”

“I don’t know. Because I wanted you to think he knew.” I laughed scornfully at myself. “Because I wanted to keep everything on the up and up.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter, either. It’s my fault too. I never told you how I…but then I don’t want to make things hard on you.” He shook his head, frustrated. “I’d give anything to know what you’re thinking right now. What we do next.”

“I’m thinking I’ve done enough damage, to my relationship with Drew and…God knows what
you
must think of me.”

“Alex…”

“My parents took a short trip to Palm Springs, but they get back late tonight. I’ll move in with them, to my old room there tomorrow morning, early, before the CPS inspection. I should have done that in the first place.”

An expression of pain flitted across Cory’s face, and then was gone again, so quickly I thought I must have imagined it.

“Yeah, okay,” he said and shouldered his bag. “I gotta get going.”

“Good luck,” I said, my voice hardly a whisper.

He didn’t say anything. I flinched when he shut the door as if he’d slammed it, the sound was just as loud and final.

Cory

I climbed into truck and slammed the heel of my hand into wheel. “Fucking coward. You should have told her.” The tires squealed as I tore down the street.

But what I’d said—or started to say before I lost my backbone—was that the last thing I wanted to do was complicate her life with my baggage.
It’s up to her. I’m in no position…

I hated how weak that made me and nearly turned the truck around to go back, to throw open the door and take her in my arms and tell her that I wanted more. To
show
her that I wanted more than the ravenous passion of last night. I wanted everything. With her.

But she didn’t feel the same. She must not have, not after the way she’d spoken this morning. She
regretted
the damage done to her and Drew, and had said so, point blank.

But last night…

I inhaled, brought it all back, savored it. We hadn’t done much talking. No, mostly we’d just fucked all night and it would have been perfect if she were really and truly mine. But last night was like the night we had in the bank—stolen time. Not real life. A parenthesis, she’d once called it.

But last night, there had been a handful of times in which something more than base lust had seeped between the cracks of our physical gymnastics. I know I gave myself away once or twice, especially when I kissed her. I kissed her with my heart as much as my mouth, kissing her instead of speaking all the words I couldn’t say. But she gave herself away too. Or at least I thought she had.

Once, she lay on her stomach with me atop her, blanketing her, my body covering hers with as much skin-to-skin contact as I could manage without crushing her. My face was buried in her hair—still damp from the shower. My lips and teeth grazed the soft, pale skin of her shoulder, which seemed to glow in the moonlight streaming in from the window. I had one hand beneath her, pleasuring her as I fucked her, the other hand entwined in hers as we made the headboard bang.

And Alexandra…her face was turned on the pillow so that I could see her profile of perfect beauty in the dimness. Her eyes closed in ecstasy that looked almost like pain, and it was my name she breathed. Over and over again. Every exhale, every thrust, my name.
Cory, Cory, Cory…
Until, at the very last, she was screaming it, crying out for release, begging me to fall over the edge with her. I don’t think she even knew what she was saying, but hell, that made it even better. She was lost in the pleasure, drunk and drowning in it, and it was my name that floated to the surface. I had left her bed early that morning with the slimmest hope that it meant something.

I was wrong.

An angry honking came from the car behind me, jarring me from my reverie. The light was green and I drove on, kept the truck on course, to the testing facility in Norwalk, wondering when, precisely, I’d lost my backbone.

I arrived at the offices on time, and approached the front desk where other potential future contractors were picking up their testing material.

“Cory Bishop,” I told the guy at the table.

The man, a lumberjack-looking guy of middle years, flipped through a clipboard. “I don’t see your name here.” He swiveled to the computer screen beside him. “Spell it.”

A pang of dread settled into my gut as I spelled my name, and wasn’t surprised at all—not one fucking bit—when the man frowned under his scraggly beard and said, “Looks like your application is incomplete.”

“Incomplete?” I said. “I was fingerprinted, I paid the $665 bucks. I was given a test day. Today.”

“The six-sixty-five is probably why you got the date. But it says here a notice that you were missing some stuff was sent to an address in Culver City. Yours?”

“Was.” I swore under my breath. “All right, what am I missing?” I asked, though I already knew. Of course I knew.
Randall, you asshole.

“We got no documentation that you’ve got at least four years’ experience working the business.” The man looked up at me. “You been working for a licensed guy? We don’t have his hours.”

My hands clenched into fists. “So I just need to give you proof, right?”

The man turned from the computer and rested his hands on his belly. “Yes, sir. Your money’s still good. We’ll just give you a new exam date after we receive the docs. Probably in two to three weeks.”

Two to three weeks
.

“Can’t I at least take the test now? I’m already here, ready to go…”

The man was shaking his head before I could even finish. “Nope.” He ticked off on his fingers, “Money, docs, test. In that order or all at once. Them’s the only options.”

In my truck, I fought for calm but it was a tough battle. The drive from Norwalk to Martin Construction offices in Inglewood took more than an hour with traffic, and turned out to be a futile anyway. The lot was empty, the tiny office dark.

Then I remembered the guys were at the Reseda site, working to get the job finished on time. The bank wanted a fast turnaround on their property and had offered a bonus to Martin if they got it. I swore enough to make my mother roll in her grave, and tore my truck out of that lot too.

It took nearly two hours to get to Reseda as the 405 freeway was its usual nightmarish self, despite it being the weekend. At the house, I saw Randall Martin’s green Subaru in the drive, and stormed in, ignoring the greetings of Vic and Rob and my other friends. Randall was doing nothing, as usual, but letting his guys work a Sunday for his bonus while he stood around checking his fantasy football stats on his phone.

I strode up to him and grabbed him by the collar. “You goddamn bastard.”

Randall looked like he was about to piss himself, and his expression would have been comical had I not been so blinded with rage. “What are you—?”

“My hours, dammit!” I gave him shake. “You were supposed to turn that in weeks ago! You
told
me you’d turned it in
weeks ago!
”

I felt hands grab me, Vic and Miguel—again. I released Randall, who coughed and sputtered.

“You go too far, Bishop,” Randall said. “That’s twice now. First Doug and now me.”

The rest of the guys had gathered around—Doug likely among them—but I hardly noticed. “Where is it? Where is the paperwork?”

“I don’t…know. I…”

“This is my life you’re fucking with!”

“O-okay.” Randall held up his hands. “In…in my car.”

“Let’s go.”

Mustering as much dignity as he could, Randall went to the driveway with myself and the entire crew in tow. “Get back to work!” he bellowed, but they all ignored him.

He opened the lower, large glove box and pulled out a battered manila envelope. “Found it yesterday…I thought I had mailed it. Really. But I got busy. You know how it is.”

I tore it from his grasp. “I quit.”

“Now wait.” Randall held up his hands and leaned in close so the other guys couldn’t hear. “You’re my best guy. I can’t lose you. That’s why, I didn’t…”

“Best guy? You’ve been messing with my pay for
years.
”

Randall stammered and glanced around, irritation flaring anew. “Get back to work, you nosy bastards!” But the audience remained. “I needed you to
need
this job. I’m sorry, but...Come on, Cory.” He leaned in close. “I’m barely holding on here.”

“Tough shit,” I said, ignoring how, despite all, I felt bad for the guy. “I expect my last pay check in seven days or I’ll come after your ass for it.”

Doug Liman snickered. “With your rich bitch lawyer?”

Without missing a beat, I instantly altered my course and walked smoothly up to Doug. The other man quailed at my deadly calm demeanor. I pinned Doug to the wall with my dagger glare.

“You want to say something else about her, Doug? To my face?” I asked, my expression oddly curious, my voice dangerously casual. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

He sniffed nervously. “Nah.”

“I didn’t think so.” I turned and strode to my truck, the manila envelope in hand. Footsteps dogged mine.

“Cory, man, wait up.”

Vic, Rob, Miguel, and three other guys were there. “It’s like I told you,” Vic said. “You go, we go.”

Some of the red-hot blaze of my anger mellowed. “I’m not a GC, guys, and thanks to that prick—” I flapped the envelope at Randall who stood in the driveway with Doug, looking like the kids no one wanted to play with—“I’m not going to be, not for weeks. And even then, there’s no business.”

Rob extended his hand. “Maybe not today. But soon, eh?”

Miguel shook my hand too. “Yeah, don’t leave us hanging with
this prick
, eh?”

I laughed despite it all, touched, as each guy pledged to work for me; good and talented guys, every one. Vic was last.

I hugged my best friend. “Thanks, man. I’ll try not to let you down.”

“
Si
, don’t keep us waiting,
pendejo
.” Then Vic’s warm smile slipped. “You need anything, you call me. Anything at all.”

#

I found an open Fed-Ex store and mailed off the paperwork, paying a premium to have it arrive in two business days. I had to make a mental note to watch my spending now that I was unemployed.
Unemployed. Fucking hell.

I wondered with a pang of panic if the inspector tomorrow would demand proof of employment. I thought not. They were from Child Protective Services and only there to make sure Callie had a clean, safe place to live.

But I couldn’t stay there either. Not with things how they were between Alex and I.

My anger had receded like a low tide, leaving only the debris of last night and this morning to clutter up my mind. What I’d done with Alex…I wanted it again. And again. Not just the mind-blowing sex, but sleeping beside her, holding her, waking up to her face every morning...for the rest of my life.

Tell her or move out. Now.

I tore out of my truck and threw open the front door, my heart trying to bang its way out of my chest, but nothing was going to stop me from telling Alex how I felt.

Except for the fact that Alex wasn’t there.

I’d spent half the day fruitlessly driving around the greater Los Angeles area, and now the sun was sitting low and fat in the sky. No note waited for me on the counter, and I had a jolt of panic that she’d already moved out. But a quick peek at her bedroom—the bed sheets still in disarray from last night’s festivities—showed she hadn’t packed anything.
But how would I know? She could burn her entire wardrobe here and never miss it.

But something told me she’d be back, and when she walked through the door, I’d tell her what I should have told her in the hospital—hell—
in the bank
. In the meanwhile, I hadn’t eaten a damn thing all day and was suddenly ravenous.

I rummaged in the fridge to put together a ham and cheese sandwich, grabbed a beer, and settled on the couch to watch my usual ESPN. One bite into the sandwich and my cell phone rang. Georgia.

“Hey.”

“I need you to come over here and watch Callie. Something came up.”

I rubbed my eyes. “And Janice isn’t available?”

“Do you think I’d be calling if she was?”

“Kind of short notice, Georgia,” I said, eyeing my sandwich.

A hiss over the line was her irritated sigh. “Is there such thing when it comes to your
daughter
, Cory? I need to go out and I need you to watch her.”

“How long’s it going to take?” I asked, thinking of Alex and our long-overdue talk.

“Jesus, Cory, you can’t spare a few hours for your kid? It takes as long as it takes.”

I bit back an angry retort. “I’ll be right there.” I jabbed the phone to hang it up and scrounged in the kitchen for a pen and paper to leave a note for Alex.

I need to talk to you. Tonight. Wait up for me?

~C

I set it in the center of the counter and hoped I wasn’t going to be so late that she even needed
to wait for me. But it was five p.m. now. Knowing Georgia, I wouldn’t get back to the bungalow until after ten if I were lucky.

I took a parting sip of beer, brought the sandwich with me, and drove another twenty minutes to Culver City, wondering sardonically if Alex walked in the door the minute after I left or a whole five minutes after my truck was out of sight. The way my luck was running today, I was sure I’d just missed her.

#

Georgia answered the door wearing a bohemian-style dress with a tribal pattern, and her blonde hair beaded and braided in a stylish mess. “Hey,” she said, her voice breathy. “Callie’s in her room. I gotta go. I’m already late.”

“Are you okay?” I asked, watching her throw on a beat-up jean jacket. “You seem jumpy as hell.”

“I’m fine,” she snapped. “Just late.”

“For what?”

“None of your damn business, is what.”

“Mommy said a bad word.”

I swiveled around to see Callie, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. I crouched down to her level. “What’s wrong, honey?”