Page 36 of Pieces of Me

“What’s it to you?”

“I might want to ask her out,” he says, shrugging.

Just the thought of it turns my stomach to stone. “She’ll be gone in a couple of days.”

He chuckles. “Even better.”

It’s been a minute since I felt the need to punch someone, but Colton… he’s pushing it. “You should just stay the fuck away from her.” My eyes shift to the open barn door when I hear car doors opening and closing. A second later, Maggie’s car passes with Jamie in the passenger’s seat.

“For her or foryou?” Colton asks.

And here lies my dilemma. Because as cliche as it is—I’mpositiveI don’twant her, but I also don’t want anyone else to have her. Or even be near her. And as hard as that is to admit, it’s the truth. No matter how I try to spin it. “Foryou, bro,” I lie, facing him again. And then I shrug, dropping my hands to my sides in a show of disinterest. “Like I said, I haven’t seen her since high school. Who the fuck knows what, orwho,she’s been doing the past five years.”

Jamie

Yesterday, after literallyrunningaway from Holden, I kept running.

My therapist says that it’s engrained in me—this running bullshit—since it was what my mother used to tell me to do when things were about to “go down” at the house. Running didn’t necessarily mean fast movement of legs, either. It could mean any form of just… disassociating with whatever unwanted situation I found myself in.

Hence the RV and this nomad lifestyle I’ve unintentionally adopted. It wasn’t supposed to be forever, but honestly, I’m finding it more and more impossible to see any other future for myself.

When I left Holden’s house, I ran back to the main house, and I didn’t stop. I didn’t know where I intended to go, but I ended up at my crash site, where I spent a good portion of the afternoon searching for my most prized possession through tear-filled eyes. I didn’t find it. So, I went back to my RV, looked up how much metal detectors cost, and attempted to work with whatever spotty Wi-Fi I could get. And then Maggie—my savior, my grace—came knocking on my door with our dinner.

We sat, and we ate, and we talked some more. When she asked about my day, I simply told her that I went for a walk and that it wasfun. Maggie had a bullshit radar that could challenge the most powerful systems in the world, but she didn’t push the issue. I told her that I tried to get some work done, but I couldn’t do much because of the internet. It turns out, Holden’s in the middle of updating their network, whatever that means, and the Wi-Fi only really works in the house or the office. She welcomed me to use either.

I haven’t stepped foot in the main house yet.

It’s bad enough that I’m encroaching on Holden’s personal space by being on his property. The idea of actually being inside hishome... surrounded by evidence of his childhood and his family and his… hismom… there’s no way I would do that to him.

There’s no way I would do it to myself.

So, with the house out of bounds and the office being Holden’s zone, I asked if she could give me a ride to the diner. That’s where I spent most of the day, catching up on work and being “nosey” with Miss Sandra.

If you take away the giant, heaping pile of dog shit referred to as Holden’s hatred toward me, I think I could really like it here.

* * *

“Please tell me that the reason you haven’t called is that you got there, and it’s been fuckin’ rainbows and butterflies since.”

I physically cringe at Zeke’s words and hold the phone tighter as I slip out of the RV, nightclothes and towel in my grasp. “I should’ve called.”

“No shit, Jamie,” Zeke snaps. “And you know I’ve always given you the time and space to do what you need to do, but this is different.”

“I know,” I say, unlocking the office door and sliding it open. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you get there okay?”

I flick on the lights. “I got here fine, and then...” I trail off, hesitating with exactly how much to reveal.

“And thenwhat?”

“And then…” I stop just outside the bathroom and think a moment. “I found Holden. He basically told me to go fuck myself, and as I was leaving, I kind of maybe sort of… drove my RV into a ditch.”

“I don’t recall saying such a thing.” I choke on a gasp and spin toward the voice. Holden’s sitting behind the large reception desk, his head tilted, eyebrows bunched. “Or maybe I did.”

Eyes wide, I say into the phone. “I’ll have to call you back.”

“Everything okay?”

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