She was a fixer-upper, basically. The raw materials were all there. It would just take some effort-a project best saved for a rainy day.
Beth, on the other hand, was fully formed, and a perfect ten. She’d have to be, for Kane to be giving her a second thought. As Miranda longingly eyed the milk shake he had insisted she order-and from which she’d yet to take a sip-he eyed Beth. Her long, blond hair was pinned back from her face, and her full lips glistened with a see-through gloss.
He still wanted her, he realized. Despite everything, he missed her.
It only made him more determined to wash her out of his system for good.
“Waitress,” he called loudly, “we need you over here.” He’d sat in this section deliberately, knowing how much she hated to be watched at work. That was the thing about being in a relationship, he’d discovered:You learned people’s weaknesses.
It was why he planned never to get ensnared in one again.
“What are you doing?” Miranda hissed, as Beth approached. She clucked her tongue. “Play nice.”
“Do you need something else?” Beth asked thinly. “Or just the check.”
“I need you to clean up this spill.”
“What spill?”
True, the table was clean. He’d have to remedy that. Kane took a sip of his Coke, and then, with a slow and deliberate turn of the wrist, dumped it out all over the table. The sticky brown liquid spread across the metallic tabletop, spattering onto her white sneakers. “Oops.”
Beth took a deep breath, then tossed a filthy dish towel in his face. “Clean it yourself.”
“Excuse me?”
“Kane, drop it,” Miranda said sharply.
He glanced at her in surprise, raising his eyebrows questioningly. What? What did I do?
“Can you, just for once, not be an asshole?” Miranda asked, as if genuinely curious to hear the answer.
“Now, where’s the fun in that?” he drawled, waiting for the inevitable smile.
But Miranda’s face was indecipherable, her lip twitching slightly, as if choosing between potential expressions. Finally, she settled on a scowl. “I’m going to the bathroom,” she announced, standing up and throwing down her napkin. “I’ll be back, maybe. Try to behave yourself.”
She hadn’t walked out on him, Kane thought with pleasure; he disliked melodrama of all kinds, unless he’d created it himself. But she hadn’t egged him on, either, or sat there with an adoring look the way the bimbos all did, chastising him with their words while rewarding him with their eyes. No, the original go-along-to-get-along girl, Miss Gumby herself, had actually taken a stand-of sorts.
He could apologize later; for now, Beth still stood over him, fuming, and he found that he couldn’t stop himself from pushing just a little harder.
“I know this isn’t the finest of dining establishments,” he drawled, “but didn’t they bother to teach you that the customer is always right?”
“I guess you’re the exception that proves the rule,” Beth snapped. “I always knew you were special.”
“Oh Beth, just give it up,” he said, suddenly raising his voice to ensure that it would carry to the table of eavesdropping juniors a few feet away. “We’re not getting back together.”
“What?”
She was so smart in some ways’and so pathetically dumb in others.
“I’m glad it was good for you,” he continued loudly, “but it just wasn’t for me. I’m sorry-you’re just… not very good.”
“Shut up.” Her pale face was turning a bright red. “Stop.”
“You keep saying that, and yet you just keep coming back. It’s a little embarrassing.”
“You’re embarrassing.”
What a snappy comeback.
Kane smiled serenely and handed back the dish towel, now sopping with Coke.
“I’m serious about one thing,” he said more softly. “Stop pretending this is all some game you can win.”
“I thought everything was a game to you.”
“That’s because I know how to play.” He gestured toward the giggling juniors who kept sneaking looks before turning back to their huddle and bursting into laughter. “As you can see. When you’re a born loser, it’s better to just stay out of the game altogether. Just a helpful piece of advice, from me to you.”
“You-I can’t-what-”
“Spit it out,” he sneered, trying to convince himself he was having fun.
“Go to hell.” And she picked up Miranda’s untouched milk shake, gave him her sweetest Beth smile, and dumped it over his head.
It was juvenile, but effective-and very, very cold.
He smeared a finger across the icy goop sliding down his cheek, stuck it in his mouth, and sucked, hard.
It was sweet, but not as sweet as what came next. An overweight, under-showered man lumbered up behind Beth and, in a voice choked with anger, uttered the three little words that every bitter, milk shake-covered ex wants to hear:
“Manning? You’re fired!”
Kaia hadn’t known where to look, not at first. She didn’t even know where he lived, she realized. It was just one of the many things she didn’t know about him.
It should have been a warning, she thought now, disgusted with herself. She’d been so eager to believe in Reed that she’d ignored the possibility that his sleazy, pothead, criminal-in-training exterior wasn’t just a veneer.
She still couldn’t quite believe that someone who’d kissed her the way he did could have tormented the way he had. How had he touched her so gently, and then branded her a whore? It didn’t seem possible, but the evidence didn’t lie. They’d found the paint in his locker: two cans, both red, like blood.
As soon as she’d heard the truth, she’d gone looking for him. She’d searched the dingy Lost and Found, his father’s garage, and Guido’s Pizza, but had no luck at any of them.
Then she realized that she knew exactly where he’d be.
She drove slowly down the highway, savoring the roar of the BMW’s engine and the clatter of the gravel kicked up by her tires, trying to enjoy the dusty billboards:
AIRSTREAM TRAILERS FOR SALE!
GET MARRIED QUICK-GET DIVORCED QUICKER!
LIVE! NUDE! GIRLS!
She was dreading the encounter, yet hungry for it, eager to finally have an end to the uncertainty and an outlet for her rage. She arrived at the mines, and his truck was pulled off onto the shoulder of the road, just as she’d expected. Reed was standing at the mouth of the abandoned mine as if wondering whether to disregard the fading DANGER signs and step inside.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, keeping a few feet of distance between them.
“Excuse me?”
“Forget it. I don’t even care. I just came here to tell you to stay away from me.” She didn’t touch him, or look at him, just stood next to him, facing the gaping hole at the head of the mines.The industrial processing complex stood several yards away. This entrance must have been a remnant from an even earlier era, one of pickaxes and rickety wooden machinery. It had once been boarded up with plywood and barbed wire, but the wood had rotted away, and the torn, frayed strands of the jagged wire climbed haphazardly over the entrance like vines. It would be easy enough to slip inside.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I heard what they found in your locker,” she snapped. “You think I’m too stupid to see what that means?”
“You think that crap was mine?”
“What else am I supposed to think?”
Reed shrugged. “Whatever. Do what you want. Get out of here. I won’t follow you.”
He began to walk away, toward the entrance to the mines.The dark, hulking mouth of the tunnel loomed over him. It reminded her of a carnival haunted house, but with no safeguards to stop the roof from crashing down.