Page 11 of Rugged Soul

I allow myself another ten minutes of tears before summoning the strength to stand. At this point, I can’t go back to the office. Not looking the way I do. I’ll have to finish out the work day at home, where hopefully I can ice my wounds and minimize the bruising. I make a mental note to look for a scarf to wear over the next week or so. I’m sure I’ll have nasty bruises on my neck for a while.

By the time I finally get back to my apartment, I collapse on my bed and fall into a deep, dreamless sleep, leaving work and the memory of the traumatic afternoon behind.

6

DOMINO

Istare at my phone, rereading the last text message I sent Calista for the hundredth time. She never responded to let me know she made it home okay. I gave her the night to cool off since realizing I was a jerk to her yet again, but after not hearing from her all weekend, I’m worried.

When she said I wouldn't see her again after she sold me the property, everything in me revolted. I didn't realize how important Calista had become in such a short time. How could I go more than a few days without hearing her bubbly laugh or watching her green eyes sparkle with mischief? When I'm with her, the stress, frustration, and pressure of the world and everyone in it fade away until every single one of my senses is filled with Calista.

How am I supposed to just let her go?

She’s not yours and she never was, my unhelpful inner monologue points out. Dammit.

“Yo, Prez, got room for one more?” Jett asks, pulling me from my thoughts. I nod and tip my head at the bar stool next to me. “Two of whatever Domino is having,” he calls out to the bartender.

“What’s on your mind, Jett?”

“Funny, I was just going to ask you the same thing. You’ve been glued to your phone for the last hour.”

“Huh?” I grunt, struggling to peel my eyes away from the screen. Maybe if I stare at it just a little longer, I’ll manifest a text from Calista. That’s how that shit works, right?

“Exactly,” Jett replies, though I think I missed something. “I won’t pretend to know what you’re going through as the leader of this band of misfits and tattered souls, but I see it weighing on you. Just want you to know you have support. We wouldn’t have voted for you if we weren’t positive you were the best man for the job.”

The bartender sets down two bottles of beer and Jett and I tap them together before taking a swig. Guilt tugs at the corner of my mind knowing the reason for my distraction is a woman, not club business.

“Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown,” I settle on, quoting the one and only Shakespeare.

“What?” Jett replies, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Nothing. I'm just… A lot is going on. I'm being pulled in a lot of directions and each one seems more important than the last. It's difficult to prioritize what to do first when everything is on fire."

“Get some marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate,” Jett says with a smile. “Make s’mores until the flames die down and then fuckin’ rebuild. We’ve done it before.”

I grunt and take another sip of my beer. “We barely survived,” I say after I set my drink down. “We still haven’t fully recovered and the fuckin’ traitors who tried to destroy us in the first place are back in town. It’s only a matter of time before they do something drastic to get our attention.”

“But we did survive. We are surviving. We’re stronger because of all the shit we’ve been through, and every single day we live and breathe is like a knife twisting in Zeke’s gut.”

"Cheers to that," I reply, raising my drink. Jett chuckles and follows suit. "Thanks for the pep talk," I tell him truthfully. It's never a bad thing to hear your club has your back.

My phone beeps, letting me know I have an email. Not a text, which is disappointing, but I still have to do my job while I wait for Calista to come to her senses.

When I open the email, I’m confused and more than a little frustrated. It’s from Calista. She’s always texted me from the very first showing when I added my number to her phone. What is this formal, professional emailing bullshit?

Mr. Gabriel, I hope this email finds you well. I have another property lined up for you to look at. The place is available as soon as this afternoon, so let me know a time and date that works best for you.

She signed off with her full name and her office phone number. What the hell? I know I was a grumpy asshole during our last meeting, but I didn’t think I offended her to this degree.

I quickly type out a reply and hit send. You never answered my text.

“Everything okay?” Jett asks.

“Yeah,” I say unconvincingly. “It’s about another showing for a new clubhouse.”

“Ah, I see. I always blush and get flustered when thinking about new clubhouses,” he teases. I glare at him, but my wrath disappears as soon as I get another email from Calista.

Thank you for your concern. As you can see, I’m fine and ready to get back to work. I’m free anytime this week for a showing so let me know when you’re available.

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