The Deeper We Get (2 page)

“This is where you need to be for now though, I understand. Just know that we’re only a plane ride away if and when you ever need us.”

She talked her way into coming over to help me finish unpacking while Samuel took a nap.

“When on earth did you ever accumulate so much stuff?” She sat back on her heels after unpacking a series of boxes.

I arched a brow. “Really? This from the woman who bought me all this stuff? I can finish the rest, don’t worry about it.”

She waved me off
. “No, no, I want to help.”

I knew what this was
—she didn’t want to leave me just yet. This was her excuse to stay, so I let her unpack.

“Are you sure you have enough money, or clothes? Or really enough anything?” She looked at me anxiously.

“If I don’t, I’ll manage. I’m going to get a job anyway.”

“You don’t need a job, you just need to focus on school
,” Ruth argued.

“I want a job Ruth
,” I repeated. Same argument, just different location. It was not that I wanted to stress her out, it just sort of happened.

“You need your independence, I understand that. I know I can be smothering sometimes, I just love you so much. From the moment we met you, you became ours. For so long I have been striving to erase the past for you. I wanted to make your life
so amazing and worry-free that you would forget about how bad it had been. That may have been a mistake on my part. Your past made you who you are.”

“I wanted to forget. I still want to. I don't want to remember my dad or how awful things had gotten. I don't even want to think about Frannie
. It’s too hard, too painful.”

“This is a good thing then, you being away. I think you’ll find yourself out here
while not around all of us who remind you.”

I started to speak
, but she raised a hand.

“No, don't say that isn't the reason you are out here. We both know it is. And, it’s
okay. You need your space. Just know that home isn't too far away if you need it. You can always come back.”

It felt good knowing that Ruth got it. I didn’t have to feel guilty for leaving. “I’ll be home for Christmas.”

She got up from the pile of boxes and took my face in her hands. “I love you Chad, so much it hurts. Make me proud, become the man you need to be.” She kissed both of my cheeks and hugged me tight.

Sunlight, nothing but sunlight. It
didn't fit with my current mood. Maybe I should have picked somewhere like Seattle for school, but then that would be too close to where I grew up, and I didn’t need that reminder.

The girl behind the counter at the student bookstore was not so subtly checking me out. She was pretty in that superficial way. Perfectly put together,
her makeup matched the clothes she wore. I’m sure some guys found that appealing, but I wasn’t one of them.

“Um, is there anything else I can help you find?” She leaned across the counter, offering me a look down her tank top. This wasn’t a new thing,
and I wasn't immune to the looks I got from women. I took care of myself; the gym, boxing, all that crap. The New York me would have flirted and taken her home. But that wasn’t me anymore.

I purposely didn’t look down. “I’m good.” My bags weighed a ton, I had totally underestimated how many books and other crap I would need for the first day of classes.

She frowned slightly. “Okay, well, have a good day.”

“Thanks.”

I spent the next hour trying to find where my classes would be held. As I walked, I found myself thinking about the girl from the beach. Something about her called to me, because we were the same. I pulled my phone out and looked at the dialed calls—there it was, her uncle’s number. I could call it. Say that I helped her the other night and wanted to know if she was okay.

Just like all the other times, I talked myself out of it. I didn’t need any more drama, and Scarlet was
drowning in it.

Instead of driving home I rode around the city. I needed to find a job in a hurry or I was going to go crazy. I stopped at the first bike shop I found, just off some random street I couldn't remember the name of.

The place was called Doyle’s. It felt like coming home, the sounds of tools clanging and the smell of oil.

“What can I help you with?”
asked a huge man in coveralls from the back of the shop.

“You hiring?”

He stepped out from behind the bike he was working on and wiped his hands on his pants. “Do you have experience?”

“I do. I rebuilt my bike myself, and I worked at a shop in New York for over a year.”

“New York huh? What are you doing here?” He eyed me suspiciously.

“College.”

“Where are you going?”

“USC.”

“Smart. I like smart. What do you want to work here for?” He narrowed his eyes.

“I’ll go crazy if I don’t.” I shrugged.

“I get that.” He tapped a finger on his thigh. “We aren’t hiring per say, but I guess we could take you on and see how it goes. Go on back to the office and fill out the paperwork and give my niece your schedule so we can get your hours set.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep. If you rebuilt that Indian yourself there isn’t much more I need to know is there? I’m Frank Doyle.”

“Chad Langer.” I shook his hand and followed him back to the office.

“Okay, Scarlet will sort you out.”

Scarlet. What were the odds that it was my Scarlet?
She wasn’t my Scarlet, but I had begun to think of her that way.

Sure enough, sitting behind the big desk was my Scarlet. She looked just as surprised to see me
as I was her.

“Everything
okay?” Frank asked when he saw her expression.

“Yeah. This is the guy who kicked the shit out of Max the other night and let me use his phone.”

Frank turned to me. “You have my thanks for that. Max is a dipshit, and I’m hoping Scarlet’s finally come to her senses about him.” He shot her a look.

Don’t stare at her. Don’t stare at her.
She was so damn hot, more so than I had remembered.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Frank patted my shoulder on his way out.

“Did you know I worked here?” she inquired suspiciously.

“How the hell could I?”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just...I’m embarrassed. That wasn’t one of my finest moments.”

“I’ve been there. Don’t worry about it. Frank said something about papers to sign?” I pushed past the awkwardness.

She got up and went to the big file cabinet on the other side of the room. I sucked in a breath—she was wearing tight, low slung jeans and a tank top that clung in all the right places. This girl was going to be trouble.

Pull it together. You’ve been around hot girls before.

She was saying something, but I hadn’t been paying attention. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I said, I need you to fill all of these out and then leave me the hours you can work. Look, is this going to be weird? Us working together?”

“Why would it?”

“I don’t know, you beat the crap out of my boyfriend for starters.”

“So you’re still with him?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

“I barely know you, I don’t
have to explain my relationship with to you.”

“Hey, you started this conversation
, not me. But if you want my opinion, you deserve better than some douchebag who hits you.”

Her head snapped up. “Who said anything about him hitting me?”

“I didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to see the signs. His whole demeanor toward you plus the bruises on your arms.”

“God, you are straight to the point. No beating around the bush for you is there?”

“Did you want me to dance around it and have both of us pretend we didn't know that I knew? This isn’t an episode of
Friends
, and I always shoot straight.”

“Max is a jerk, but mostly harmless.”

“Look, I don’t know you. You don't owe me any explanation. Just know that you’re worth more.”

“How do you know? You just said you don't know me.”

“I know because no one deserves to be hit. Ever.” I took the papers from her and left my school schedule on her desk.

I walked back through the shop and yelled for Frank to call me when he knew the days he wanted me to work.

School sucked. I hated it.
All I wanted was to be in the garage working on bikes. I trudged through my first week of my classes—my only bright spots were work and the new boxing gym I joined by my apartment.

Something in me craved violence. Boxing was a way to unleash the beast without getting in trouble for it.

Today was a day I needed to fight. I needed to work out my aggression or I would explode. I signed in at the desk and waited for my turn in the ring. It was usually a first-come, first-served sort of deal.

Wrapping my hands put me in sort of a
Zen state. I knew what would come next, and I was hungry for it. Another guy sat next to me watching the sparring match and wrapping his hands. He was roughly my size and looked to be the same age. I hoped we sparred together because I had seen him in the ring before, and he looked like he would be fun to hit for five minutes.

“You next up?”
he asked.

“I think so. There wasn’t anyone else on the list.”

He nodded. “I guess we’re sparring.”

“Looks like it.” I continued to wrap my hands,
but inwardly I was smiling. This was going to be fun.

We watched in silence until it was our turn, the tension vibrating off of me in waves. After a quick roll of my shoulders I stood up to enter the ring.

“You both know the rules I assume,” the club trainer Sully asked from the corner.

“Yeah.” I knocked gloves with
my opponent, and the fight began.

He circled around me, trying to find
an opening to attack, but I didn’t give him one. I attacked first, landing blow after blow to his midsection. He knocked me away and managed to land a solid punch to my chin. Even with the head guard, I was knocked back. I grinned and launched at him, raining blows to his sides.

It turned out we were pretty evenly matched, for every hit I got in, he got one back. By the end of the match we were both sweaty and tired.

“Good fight, man.” He shook my hand once we had taken our gloves off.

“You too.”

“I’m Vin Trager.”

“Chad Langer.”

“I’ve seen you fight before, I was glad that we were paired up today.”

“Same here. We’re evenly matched. I hate when it’s too easy, there’s no fun in that.”

“Exactly. How long have you been boxing?”

“The last four years or so, you?”

“Most of my life. Sully is my uncle, so I grew up here.”

“This place is a godsend for me, I just moved from New York a couple of weeks ago. I would have gone insane without boxing.”

“I hear you man. What do you think of California so far?”

“The jury’s still out. But it’s looking better now that I have this place and a job.”

“You come for school?”

“Yeah, going to USC.”

“Good school.”

“It’s
okay. I’m not really the school type, but here I am anyway.”

“I’m just going to grab some food, you want to come?”

“I could eat.” This was what I needed, someone who I could let beat me up on a semi-regular basis and then go to dinner with afterwards. Vin seemed like he would fit the bill for me.

“Meet you out back in ten.” He walked back to the office area
, and I went to change in the locker room.

The shower was practically screaming my name when I walked through the door,
but I settled for a quick rinse.

Vin was waiting out back talking to a guy I’d seen around the gym.

“Chad, this is my brother Ian.”

I should have known they were related, they looked almost identical. Tall with dark hair and eyes.

“Hey, nice to meet you.” I shook his hand.

“I saw you in the ring with Vin today, you held your own. Not many around here can do that. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks. Would it be cocky to say the same thing about myself?”

“Nah man, just honest.” Ian grinned.

“Let’s grab Mexican, I’m starving.” Vin started walking toward a big black Bronco.

“I’ll follow you, I’ve got my bike.”

We ate at some hole in the wall place a few blocks away. I had always liked Mexican food, but apparently what I had been eating all along wasn’t that. I got what they called a California burrito; with beans, cheese, carne asada, guacamole, rice, and french fries. Pretty much heaven rolled up in a huge warm tortilla.

“How the hell have I lived this long and not had something like this?” I was in awe.

“Dude, you’ve never lived in California. Besides Mexico, you won’t find more authentic Mexican food anywhere in the country. You’ll just get that Tex-Mex nonsense pretending to be authentic,” Vin responded.

“You’re officially initiated into the state now.” Ian laughed.

“What else do I need to try?”

“I think the question really should be, what shouldn’t you try?”

“I guess I have a lot of learning to do.” I laughed

“No worries, we’ll teach you.”
Ian grinned.

“So you guys have lived here a long time?”

“Born and raised,” Vin answered.

“Must have been nice, to have the beach all year round.”

“It gets cold here too.” Ian laughed. “You couldn’t pay me to go in the water after October, even with a wetsuit. That shit is ball freezing cold.”

“So you surf? Or is that a stereotype?”

“I used to surf, Ian still does. I’m more interested in boxing than waves.”

“You’re looking at it wrong, it’s not so much the waves as it is the hot chicks who like to lay out on the sand
,” Ian declared.

“That’s one thing I will say about living here, you don’t have a shortage of beautiful women
,” I smirked.