Page 3 of Never Always
Clover says, “Oh, no.” The tone in her voice quivers. “Is it Grange? It has to be.”
I laugh nervously. “Looks like you answered my question.”
Clover backpedals. “No, no, no. He’s not a bad guy… er… he’s been having a time of it lately. One thing after another, you see? I thought he was doing his community service in the public parks. That’s odd he’d switch to the Aquatic Center.” Clover switches gears and invites me to a party at her house on Friday night after she does my hair, but my heart is lodged in my throat—seized by fear.
The park. The man. I lose my breath. “No,” I reply, without realizing it slipped out. “When you say one thing after another, do you mean like killing one person after another in a fit of bitty rage, or like getting into a fender bender and breaking an ankle?” I tease, even though the time for jokes has sailed on past. This is fair time for southern gossip, and I’ve called on the one person in Cape Cod that will deliver.
She stays silent. Too silent for Clover Ballentine. She whispers, “He cheated on his fiancée. She rebounded after the breakup and Grange nearly killed the guy outside a bar when he saw them together. It was only a fistfight, but because of his SEAL training, the court labeled him a deadly weapon and it got a little sticky, you know?” Clover sighs long and hard, and I swallow some more lead into my stomach. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, sweetie. He’s not a threat to anyone except himself at this point. He’s got to keep up with the community work if he wants back on the Teams. I’d fathom he’ll be on his best behavior… provided he’s not provoked.”
Anger issues. Perfect.
“He cheats and then he gets mad when she moves on? Sounds like he’s a real stand up gentleman. What a waste of space.” I groan and turn from my window to see the man in question leaning against my doorway, dark gaze unfathomable. “I have to go. See you Friday,” I say, briskly ending the call. I’ll text her later to apologize and to give her an excuse for why I can’t make her party. Social events are literal nightmares. Not as much as this man named Grange, looming in front of me.
“Depends on what you mean by stand-up,” he growls, face a mask of anger and contemplation. What’s he thinking about? Using hisdeadly weaponson me next? “That is, if you’re talking about me. That was presumptuous of me to assume.”
I shake my head and amble forward. This is just my luck. All the bad luck. What did I do to deserve this? I look up at the fluorescent bulb in my ceiling and away. Anywhere except at the beast looking statuesque man in front of me. “You’re here for community service,” I deadpan, pinching the bridge of my nose. “And I’m the one to approve it. What are the chances of that?”
“Nice road rash,” he fires back, stalking into my office a couple steps. “It was an elegant fall. A ten-point-oh.” Grange slips his hands into his pockets. “I’m going to guess by your accent alone that you just got off the phone with Clover. What’s with all these Southerners in the north? Go on then.” He juts his square chin toward me. “What did she tell you?”
I pull on the top of my ear. “Take a seat.” I nod at the chair in the corner and then move for the door. I see Grey’s wary face at his desk in the next room before it clicks closed. Typically, I don’t have many guests in my office, so the setup is awkward. Swiveling my chair to face Corrick, I sit. “I think you’re awful and rude, and I would prefer it if you went back to whatever community service program you were following before. Mowing the grass, being mean to unsuspecting park patrons, whatever it is you found so enlightening.”
He crinkles his nose. “Despite what you may think, you have nothing to do with why I’m here.” He looks me up and down, cringing. “Transferring here was always part of the plan. It’s ironic timing that I almost mowed you over a few days ago.”
I huff and say, “Your paperwork didn’t come through the system until today, so I call foul. I would have seen it months ago if it was in any kind of plan.” I air quote the last three words. “Come on, you aren’t the kind of person who has any interest in this,” I add, waving my hand to the lab door. “Please, don’t make this situation any more unbearable than it already is.”
“You seem so smart. Tell me why I don’t have any interest in the Aquatic Lab. Enlighten me, Doctor.”
My face flames with embarrassment. Too stunned to speak, I merely stare at him.
He quirks one brow. “For someone who knows everything, you’re awful quiet.” Folding his hands, he leans over, placing his forearms on his legs. “I’m almost finished with my hours. This is the end of it. A few weeks tops depending on how much work you give me, then I’ll be on my way down the beach, back to my real job. I’ll never have to see you again.”
The entitlement oozing into the air triggers my anger—the sensitive spot inside my ego. I answer his question from a few minutes before. “You don’t have any interest in my lab because you’re the type of person who only cares about himself. The type of person who is selfish. The kind of person who only does things for others because they’re forced to, because they have community service hours.” Corrick’s gaze shutters and his hands turn into veiny, angry fists in front of his body. I should stop now, but I can see I’ve gained purchase in upsetting him. “Forgive me for wanting to surround myself with people who actually care about our cause.” I hold up my hand to stop him from replying. It shakes a bit, but I don’t think he sees. “This, your presence, is my fault, so I’ll find something for you to do if you insist on being here, but know I wish I didn’t have to.”
There’s a pregnant silence filling the air that my phone ringing breaks. I release a pent-up breath and answer, aware that the rage filled beast is watching my every move. It’s a vet returning my call. The man upstairs has a sense of humor because they don’t need any help this week. Glancing over my shoulder, I find Corrick picking at his nails, a smug smile on his face. I finish up the phone call with a curt goodbye.
He rubs a hand over his stubbly face. “How does anyone take you seriously with that on your face?”
I finger the injury. “That’s what you have to say? After everything I just said?”
Grey pokes his head into my office without knocking. He always knocks. “Everything okay in here?” he says, voice a tentative probe into the tension-filled atmosphere.
Straightening my back, I nod. “Yes, of course, sorry, Grey.” I offer a weak smile and try to school my irritation, fear, and loathing into something more pleasant. He is checking on me and something about that makes my stomach warm and fuzzy. “We’re almost done here,” I add, shifting in my seat.
Grey’s gaze flicks to Corrick and back to me. He says warily, “Okay. Call me if you need anything. I’m right outside.”
Corrick Granger laughs loudly and shakes his head. Grey leaves, mouth turned down in the corner as he closes the door. “How long have you wanted him?” Corrick barks out, an evil light in his eye.
“How long have you been inappropriate, Mr. Granger?” I fire back.
“A, it’s Grange. Not Corrick or Granger, just Grange. And B, it’s not inappropriate if it’s true. You want that man and he has no idea. Maybe you haven’t even admitted it to yourself.” How can he see it? In such a brief exchange of words. “Ah, you do know. Why haven’t you told him?”
My face flames red. Again. Turning to my window, I see the docks. “You’ll mop the docks,” I say, swallowing the hard pill. I’m as translucent as glass and it makes me feel pathetic. “When you’re finished with the docks, I’ll have you organize the stock room.”
I stand from my chair and straighten my lab coat. “Any questions?”
He doesn’t respond right away, he’s surveying me like he’s trying to read my mind and my stomach flips. Not in a warm and fuzzy way, either. “Let me help you get the man,” Grange says, chest muscles pulling his blue shirt. “In exchange, you’ll let me help here in the lab, not the docks or storage room.”
I fold my arms and look to the side. No is on the tip of my tongue. This man is vile. Abhorrent. I wouldn’t give him the time of day if he wasn’t under my charge. He makes fun of me every chance he gets. “How would you help me get the man?” I say, sighing heavily.
