“You’re so frustrating, Greg Cage.” At least the laughter and lightness I left her with has returned.
“I want to see you soon, and I won’t take no for an answer. Finish your family business but call me tomorrow. I don’t hear from you tomorrow then I will come to you. Lunch, dinner, or fucking brunch.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what’s going on. Does that work for you?” Smartass temptress.
*
The next day isn’t much better on my sanity. Walking into work on a golden sidewalk is almost comical enough that I might have started the day positively. But entering the office to find Emmy in tears, Coop frustrated with his not knowing shit about women or how to fix them, Beck worrying and consoling Emmy, and Maddox punching holes in his office, doesn’t bode for a good beginning.
I feel torn between my need to protect Emmy and her innocent, pure love for a man who can’t accept it, and a man who has been a brother to me for many years. I know the background and I know that it isn’t going to get better anytime soon.
With Axel finally gone for the week, all the heavy shit falls straight on my shoulders. The best anyone can get out of Emmy is that she is okay. She calms down when I pull her aside and remind her of our previous conversation. I get her, I really do. Some of us are put on this earth to heal, to make others’ lives brighter, and when those people don’t want our help, our love? We feel it deep. No matter what I say, that isn’t going to change with her but this discord in the office needs to fucking stop.
After that, it seems like fire after fire. We have cases with issues, computers crashing, and Maddox still banging shit around in his office. If I know I am going to see Melissa today, I can almost take this shit, but already knowing that isn’t going to be happening is just increasing my foul mood.
By mid-afternoon, I can’t take it anymore and finally call her. I get her voicemail and leave a quick message to call. Her return text is short and to the point, ‘Can’t do today, too much family stuff.,’ and has my gut rolling. No reason, but my gut never lets me down. Something is going on and I can’t help her without knowing what is happening.
This feeling of not helping is new to me. For the last almost five years, I have been the rock, the go to, the strength to help, and it almost makes me feel like I am doing something that would make Grace proud of me. Something better than all those years that I spent wasting away, living off booze, and whores on the road.
I want to be that person for Melissa, and it is killing me that she won’t let me in. My mind keeps telling me to be patient, it’s new, and who trusts someone that much after a week? But my heart, fuck me, my heart is telling me to drive over to her now and demand she let me in.
Crazy, I know this . . . but when you know, you know. She is a woman worth the trouble and if my gut is right, she could be the one to heal the wounds I have been carrying around for far too long.
When my phone rings right before closing time and I see Melissa’s name across the screen, my heart leaps. Like a little bitch, it leaps right into my throat. One week and I am already this deep, shit.
“Miss me?” Expecting to get some kind of sass back or at the very least a hello, the soft sob that catches over the line has my heart dropping right back down. “Melissa? What is it?” Grabbing my keys without even knowing where I am needed is a knee-jerk reaction. I am out the door with a few jerks of my chin to the others, and leaving the lot. “Baby, where are you?”
She takes a few minutes to control herself and when she speaks, the tone isn’t sadness. It’s pure fury. “I will kill that little tramp, Greg. My car might be shit to someone but it is mine and it is important to me. Sure it’s a piece of shit but it is MY piece of shit!”
At this point, I have to pull over. Despite the driving need to reach her and fix whatever the hell just went down, I can’t for the life of me figure out what the hell she is talking about.
‘Babe, I’m trying to figure out what exactly you’re talking about here, so can you give me some more details?” I lean forward and try to rub some of the stress out of my neck.
“Okay. Let me spell this out in a way you might get. Your little stalker? I’m thinking maybe you weren’t clear enough with her when you ended things. I would like to think I know you well enough that you wouldn’t be messing with me and trying this hard to get me to open up. So imagine my shock when she shows up at my job throwing her shit!”
Jesus Christ. “Tell me you’re kidding right now, Melissa.”
“Do you think I would be calling you right now to come get this trash if I wasn’t serious?!” Her screams through the line almost cause me to drop the phone.