Page 27 of Break Me Like a Promise (Oak Valley)

“Katherine here is an exemplary employee. As the future of Will’s, you best take note, boy. I expect the same kind of leadership your little sister’s taken.”

Colton tried to school his face, catching the look of defeat in Katie’s eyes before she turned back to their soup. Their mom kept chewing her food, removing herself from the conversation in every way except proximity.

But Colton just couldn’t help it, and he mentally kicked himself as soon as his mouth opened.

“But if Katie is doing all this awesome stuff, how great would it be if she took over? Instead of fighting for me to do shit, why not just… go with the flow?”

Bryce dropped his spoon in the soup with a clatter, staring Colton down. “Don’t you dare start spouting that hippie-dippy bullshit. Will’s is a father-son shop, has been for over three-generations. That’s how we do things around here, and it’s past time you got it through your thick skull. You did your football thing, it didn’t work out. You’re right back where you started. You know why? You were never meant to leave.”

The words burned through Colton, racing through his veins and burning the space behind his eyes. The dinner table blurred, truth given to what he’d been thinking since he first moved home.

He was never meant to do anything more than run his family’s shop.

He was never good enough to get out.

His mom cleared her throat, a quiet warning. “Bryce, we’ve talked about this.”

“Oh, yeah?” Bryce chuckled. “Have we talked about what a good for nothing kid we raised? How he can’t do even the bare minimum of what he’s supposed to? I didn’t realize asking my son to take over the family business was such a fucking burden, Cheri. You coddled him too much. You filled his head with ideas of everything but his purpose.”

“Is that really all I am to you? Bred to take over the shop? You’re lucky you even have a son. You’re lucky you even have a kid that wants to take over, and she’s sitting right there. But you can’t even see her because you’re so wrapped up in some ridiculous fantasy about how the familial power lies in the men. Do you hear yourself?” Colton didn’t look up from his bowl until the very end, shaking his head. “You need a reality check or something. I’m leaving. I’m getting as far away from you and that stupid shop as possible. If anyone takes it over, it’ll be Katie. But honestly? I don’t blame her if she doesn’t, given the shit way you’ve treated her. She deserves better.”

Colton stood throwing his napkin on the table, glancing at his mom and then his dad. “We all do.”

He stormed off, grabbing his jacket.

“You walk out that door, you better plan on not coming back.”

His dad’s voice followed him outside. It was nighttime, and he immediately regretted not grabbing his coat. But it was too late now — he knew he couldn’t go back. At least not anytime soon.

His first instinct was to call Ruby. Funny how that never went away and, if anything, had grown stronger since she’d come home.

Home.

This place was no longer home to him. Hadn’t been for some time.

He watched his breath puff white against the dark, aimlessly walking toward the main road. He felt better, stronger, both physically and mentally. Maybe now was time to move out, if he could find one of the coveted apartments Oak Valley boasted. But was it worth it if he ended up getting a job in San Francisco? The interview was this week. Slim chance, but a chance nonetheless. And if he found an apartment here, wouldn’t that just solidify his place here?

His head hurt with the possibilities, but not as much as his numb fingers. He’d left his car keys in his bedroom, in his catch-all on top of the dresser. His phone hung heavy in his pajama pockets. If he couldn’t go home anytime soon, he certainly couldn’t stay out here all night. He could try the small bed and breakfast in town, but it was a good four-mile hike. As much as he wanted to, calling Ruby wasn’t an option. Which left his friends. They’d all let him crash for a few days, but Dragan was the one he could talk to.

Colton dialed his friend, pacing to keep warm until he heard the sputter of his friend’s car come down the road, waving at the headlights that signified his rescue.

26

The beeping machines became a kind of metronome while Ruby worked, careful not to take her eyes from the laptop screen. While she wanted to be there for her mom’s first chemo treatment, she was having a hard time not breaking down every time she looked over and saw her mom wince or pull the blanket tighter. She shifted in the yellow armchair, body buzzing with the knowledge her mom was stuck with a needle right beside her, that in the coming weeks she’d have to help her through a variety of side effects.

Ruby didn’t know what having chemo was like, but she’d heard stories. She had vague memories of the aftermath from her mom’s first round, when Ruby was young. It was cold, it burned, it was like a low-warmth spreading through the body. In general, it was only mildly uncomfortable. She’d been a kid when her mom was first diagnosed and was only vaguely aware of the seriousness of it all. It was just her and her mom, and her mom had tried to keep the severity from her daughter. But now that Ruby was an adult, she was a partner in this. She was the question-asker, the hand-holder, the document-carrier. Given the recurrent cancer and the spread, Beryl was set for a 3-month IV chemotherapy course comprised of six treatment cycles, two weeks each. After that, the doctors would re-evaluate what actions to take next.

Beryl had brought some magazines, a book, her knitting. Ruby turned back to her computer, needing to respond to work emails but searching the various Skoolie forums instead. She hadn’t been able to get to the bus since removing the ceiling panels. She tried not to notice the flush coursing its way through her body, the involuntary clench of her thighs at the memory of his body pressed against hers. Remembering how infuriating he was — especially when she ran into him outside the auto shop — only slightly dimmed the reaction.

She sighed, checking her school bus task list. Next up was the floor. The questions and answers she found noted removing the thin rubber layer first helped, and then removing the plywood. Crowbar and a drill should be enough to leverage everything out, an average of four hours with two people. Ruby chewed her lip. She was torn between wanting the satisfaction of doing most of the conversion herself but also wanting to get it done as soon as possible. Torn between putting distance between her and Colton and feeding the craving in her body to spend as much time with him as possible.

“How’s work going?”

“It’s not, I’m looking at school bus stuff.”

“Ah. How is the bus?”

Ruby kept her eyes trained on the screen, not reading what was in front of her. She could sense her mom wanted to say something. After last time when she mentioned Colton had come to help with the ceiling panels, Ruby was on alert for the mom radar for red flags.

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