Good Wood (16 page)

CHOPPING VEGETABLES IS about as violent as it gets in the culinary world, and I was in the zone. I’d arrived early to prep because Sanchez had to meet with his parole officer. Thinking about his incarceration always infuriated me. All Dirty S. did was stop his stepfather from beating the shit out of his mother. So he knocked out all of his teeth? Calling that ‘aggravated assault’ and trying a seventeen year old as an adult was a travesty. It made me want to start a protest, but Sanchez was pretty philosophical about it. He’d learned a lot in the prison kitchen while he was doing time. It was over now and his parole was coming to a swift end.

I missed seeing Joe’s rampage, but I’d heard the racket and witnessed the aftermath. I didn’t miss the tormented expression on his face and tried to go after him. I was fully aware that my compulsion to help him was my sickness; I’d been down that road before. It went well beyond a want-it was a need. I knew that I should just pretend not to notice but my brain and body were completely out of sync because I was chasing after him and had already nearly closed the gap between us.

Mac grabbed ahold of me and told me to ‘just let him go’. He said that Graham had kicked him off the site. I screamed at him to leave me the hell alone, but not only did he ignore me, he shook me. Stunned, I finally saw just how freaked out Mac was. His permanent smirk had vanished and he was all serious and pale.

“Molly: I’m not kidding. Joe’s dangerous. I mean it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I snapped and yanked out of his grasp, but Joe was long gone by that time. Since I didn’t have his number or any idea where he lived, I was out of options. I called Mac a dirty name, stomped back onto the truck, and went back to chopping.

Stacy finally wandered into the truck with a sheepish look on her pretty face.

“Molly…you aren’t mad, are you?” She twirled her hair like a little girl and I barely looked up from my knife.

“About what?’ I muttered and when she didn’t answer me I stopped working and sat my knife down. She blinked uncomfortably, and I suddenly remembered her less than stealthy exit with Mac the Friday before. “No. I’m not mad. I’m a little
traumatized
, but not mad.”

“Good.” She beamed at me and she giggled. “Cause I
really
like him.”

I exhaled threw a clenched smile. “Spectacular.”

Her glance dropped from my face and her expression changed.

“What’s that on your ear?” She moved in a step and her eyes narrowed. “Is that a hicky? You dirty slut!”

I grabbed my purse and rummaged for my compact. Sure enough, Joe left a mark on my earlobe and it was the size of a nickel. I hadn’t even noticed it. I recalled some of the odd looks I’d received from my distributors that morning, and slapped my palm over my face. I pulled the bandana in my hair down over my ears. Stacy folded her arms across her ample chest and her eyes dance with excitement.

“Start talkin’, girl.” She insisted.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” My tone was firm, but Stacy wasn’t easily dissuaded.

“It’s Joe, isn’t it?” I shot her a panicked look before I could gather my wits. She giggled merrily. “He couldn’t take his eyes off of you at Guero’s. It was wild.”

I cringed. “Stacy. You need to drop this. For real.”

Her face fell. “Why do you look so sad?”

“Things happened…but it’s done. We’re not…together.” I sounded icy, and I fought hard to keep my cool. I felt clammy and strange. “Promise me you won’t tell Mac. I’m not joking.’”

“I won’t say a word.” She looked troubled and she reached out for my arm. “I’m sorry, hon. Mac said he’s a real bed hopper. Men just can’t handle grief. I can’t even imagine going through what he went through. I’d be locked up in a rubber room.”

A sinking feeling washed over me at the sight of her disturbed expression and my eyes shot to hers. “What are you talking about?”

I was waiting by Graham’s truck when the crew finally ended their workday. We’d closed down the food truck two hours before, and I’d rummaged through Mac’s car to find his stash of cigarettes. I hadn’t smoked since high school, but I had to do something with all my nervous energy besides cry and blow my nose. Rookie mistake. Now I was coughing and crying and
really
couldn’t breathe through my nose. I’d known something was wrong with Joe, but the tragedy he’d suffered was unimaginable. Though my stomach churned speculating on the details, I needed to know them. Asking my brothers about it was unthinkable.

Graham exited the hotel with Charlie, and he slowed his step when he spotted me. He waved and looked around as if to see if we had an audience.

“Molly.” He nodded at me, a ponderous look settling in his features. I was making him nervous, presumably because of my puffy eyes and smeared mascara.

“Do you have some time? Like for a cup of coffee, maybe?” I tried not to look desperate, but my eyes pleaded with him. He nodded and tossed his hard hat in the back seat.

“Hop in. There’s a place a few blocks over that isn’t half bad.”

Twenty minutes later, I pushed my pie around on my plate. Graham’s story had wrecked my appetite-probably forever.

The reality of the story was so much worse than anything I could have concocted. Had I had a clue what he’d been through, I probably would have turned and ran in the other direction. I tossed my fork onto the table with a resounding clang and covered my face with my hands. “Oh my god.”

“It’s not a pretty story. And I’m not even doing it justice. Jess’s mom blamed Joe. She physically attacked him. Slapped him…clawed his face. She told him the baby’s death was all
his
fault for not insisting on the C-section before they operated on Jess. He just stood there and took everything she did to him. Tamryn finally pulled her off of him. Between Jess’s mom and the cops, Joe looked like he’d been in the accident with them.” Picturing Joe’s heartbreak and the impossible call he’d had to make, I felt as if my throat was constricting.

“By the time Mason thought to call me, Joe had been in that hospital room for over twelve hours. He refused to let anyone else hold the baby. When I showed up, the staff was discussing forcibly sedating him just to get the bodies to the morgue. I told Tamryn I’d try to talk to him. Frankly, I was shocked as hell when he let me in the room.” I watched tears sprout in Graham’s eyes and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told him ‘son, you have to let these people do their jobs.’ He wouldn’t look at me. He couldn’t take his eyes off Jack’s face. The only thing I heard him say that day was ‘he looks just like me, Jess.’

I just sat with him for about an hour, looking over at Jess’s broken body. Watching Joe bawl and cradle that little boy. Wishing I could think of some words, hell-any words-of comfort. But what was there to say? Then he just stood up and handed Jack to me. He kissed Jess on her cheek and walked out. Molly, I was in the military. Active duty. I’ve seen some horrible things in my time. That was the most terrible day of my life.”

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” I clambered out of the booth knocking over my water glass and ran for the ladies room. By the time I was done, I was sure I’d lost part of my stomach lining. As if I’d been cracking the world’s toughest safe, all of the tumblers slid into place. I sat there on the closed toilet for some time, sifting through the tragedy that had completely dismantled
my
Joe. After splashing some cool water on my face, I returned to the booth.

“You alright?” His eyes shone with genuine sympathy.

I nodded, choking back the lump in my throat. “Tell me about Amy’s Ice Cream.”

He shrugged, his face looking five years older than it had when we’d walked into the restaurant. “That’s where they met. While waiting in line.”

I raked my hand through my bangs, trying to decide if I needed to vomit again.

“Why didn’t Mac and Mason tell me any of this?” My head throbbed and I could barely breathe through my nose. “I didn’t even know he got married.”

He tilted his head at me as if my question were asinine. “You know those boys better than anyone. They can’t handle their feelings for shit. They were groomsman at the wedding. The two of them had to carry Jack’s casket at the funeral.”

I gaped at him. Just when I thought I’d heard it all, another horror popped up like I was playing a morbid version of Whack-a-mole. Every muscle in my body ached and I felt like all my double shifts had caught up with me at once. “Jesus, Graham.”

“Molly, you’d be smart to walk away. It’d be the healthy thing to do, I’m sure. I know it makes me a selfish ass, but I really hope you won’t.” He looked very uncomfortable with the topic, but he maintained eye contact nonetheless.

I blinked uncomfortably. “Graham, Joe and I…we’re not—”

“I saw the two of you in his truck, Kid, remember?” He shook his head and raised his hand dismissively. “The fact that he came to Mason’s in the first place had everything to do with you.”

I nervously tapped my straw on the table my eyes darting around at the water-stained ceiling. The promises I’d made to myself weren’t something I could just easily toss aside. I’d lost myself once to Draven. His primary talent was making his mark feel like the single most important person in the world.

Taken in by his charm and the need to please him, I’d adapted so much that by the time he was done with me I was unrecognizable. The night I popped open his glove compartment searching for Tylenol and found a pair of stranger’s panties instead, I swore I’d never shelve my own needs to make room for someone else’s happiness again. Never.

I tossed my straw onto my untouched pie and shook my head. I couldn’t fix Joe. I wasn’t arrogant enough to try. And with my trust issues, I wasn’t up for the challenge of a typical relationship, let alone the minefield of Joe Jensen.

“I don’t…I can’t.” Under the circumstances I was having trouble stringing a coherent sentence together. “I just can’t think straight. I appreciate you telling me, Graham. So many things make more sense now.”

Not knowing Graham well, his expression was difficult to decipher. It didn’t take a genius to see that it wasn’t a happy one. “Come on. I’ll take you back to the truck.”