Page 44 of Fight

“Well, you said she was married.” He throws an arm to the side. “You don’t know who her husband is?”

Jesus, fuck. I find a limb and chuck it as hard as I can, then straighten my spine. “Motherfucker, I don’t know!” I scoff. “Idon’t know shit about that woman. You wanna know who her husband is, go ask her!” I shake my head, walking up the line to check on the saw team’s progress.

“Whoa, chill.”

I spin on my foot. “I am chill!” I laugh for added conviction. “I just can’t figure out why you’re grilling me about a person I have nothing to do with.”

The pause in conversation is awkwardly silent. I may have had a slight overreaction to his questions about Scottie.

He mutters to himself, “Married… that’s so fuckin’ weird. Sure does raise more questions than answers.”

What’s that supposed to mean?I shouldn’t ask, but my impulse control gets the better of me. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “Nothin’.”

Anger rises up my neck. “No, why do you think it’s weird?” Now my interest is piqued. What does he know? Did he hear something? Small towns can churn out rumors all day long, but every once in a while, they get it right. If it’s got to do with Scottie, I wanna know about it despite my better judgment. Apparently, I’m a glutton for punishment.

Maybe it will fuel my anger toward her. I can’t seem to let go of this. I’m so pissed I’m starting to obsess over her. No one knows we slept together. Well, apart from Dixon. I’m too ashamed to even bring it up to King or Xander, and they’re my brothers, for all intents and purposes, though they obviously suspect something went down between us.

“What do you care?” King taunts. “You’ve got nothing to do with her.”

Asshole.He’s right. There’s no way for me to respond, so I don’t.

“You’re getting a little long in the tooth to be playing around,” Bobby says, eavesdropping nearby. “When are you gonna settle down with someone?”

I turn away from the ridiculous question; it’s about time I getback to work. “Fire’s the only woman for me. She’s cruel and she’s hot.”

“You do have a type,” King adds.

I chuckle and spit into the dirt. “That I do.”

END OF OCTOBER

Finally done with fire season, and I’ve already gotten a decent start on the next room that needs renovation in the house. Even after a full day of manual labor and being covered in sawdust, I’m still feeling restless, so I do what I always do during those times. Run.

Brown leaves crunch underfoot as the frigid air burns my lungs. I needed this. Swinging a hammer is great for alleviating aggression, but running quiets my thoughts; it brings me peace and soothes my soul.

Or at least it does until I see her.

My pounding feet slow to a stop—no fucking way—the woman jogging toward me is the one and only Scottie Timmons.How does this keep happening?This woman is driving me insane.

I haven’t been able to get her out of my head since the night we met, and after getting burned by her, I’ve tried doing anything to distract myself. It’s an impossible task when we can’t stop running into each other—last time, it was literal. Then shehad the audacity to snap at me likeIwas in the wrong. I was too dumbfounded to even respond.

Our arrangement was casual.It was only supposed to be fun!So why the fuck can’t I get over her?

I’ve switched the time of day I go running to keep us from crossing paths, but apparently, she had the same idea, because here we are. When recognition hits her, she stops. We regard each other with bitterness, our feet firmly planted and time standing still. How the hell can she look at me likeIhurt her. I’ve been up front since the beginning, she’s the one who lied.

Eventually, she turns around and jogs back in the direction she came.

I hold my arms out wide. “Can’t you run in a different neighborhood?” I shout.

Please do me that one fucking kindness.

She holds up her middle finger and continues jogging.Cute.

I plan to make the most of my few days off before snowfall—something I am eagerly awaiting. I’ve never been anywhere with a lot of snow and am excited to experience my first winter in Washington. Maybe I can even learn to ski or snowboard. On a little hill… a baby hill… perhaps a fetus hill if they have one. I’m good on my feet, but the thought of sliding down the side of a mountain has my forehead breaking out in a cold sweat.

Tomorrow will be my first big hike in the mountains. I’ve hiked parts of Arkansas, before, but the scenery is noticeably different in the Pacific Northwest. Not only are there snow-capped mountains, but the trees are mightier, the flora is greener, and the forests are darker and deeper. The urge to immerse myself in nature has never been stronger.

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