Jack This Heart, page 16
“How did it go?”
“Did you get the nanites?”
“Are you hungry?”
“Thirsty?”
“You bastard, we were worried… Where’s Shannon?”
Of course Hemi asked the last question, which Jack chose to ignore.
“The trip was a success. I have the solution to our problems, and I’m starving. Think Gaia will feed me?”
A chorus of agreement and celebration rose up around him and the group near forced him toward the Watering Hole. They were eager for information but appeared more worried about his health and the fact he was alive.
Instead of continuing to ask him things, the group gathered around as he sat and ate. They told him what had happened in the week he’d been gone for the re-work on the engine. A couple tweaks, according to Gina.
“You know her, can’t stop finetuning,” Snapper said as he hugged her close to him.
She sat on his lap and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Shush, you like the way I can find efficiencies. Besides, it’s logical to always seek improvement.”
An image of Shannon popped in his memory, her pressing a kiss to him, her grin. So similar to Gina’s and yet different.
But I left her.
“Yes, everything is ready for you to give it a run through,” Drag replied, passing a brand-new mug of ale across the table. “And we have the bonus of Hemi getting a wife.”
“What the he-he-he—” Jack coughed on his last swallow of stew and started hacking to clear the broth he’d tried to inhale.
“Yeah, within three nights of you gone,” Snapper chimed in. “Idiot got himself hitched by Proxy.”
“The guitarist?” Jack wheezed that question then grabbed the glass of water in front of him and chugged it.
Gina chuckled. “Yes, Proxy is a wedding magistrate. He conducted it right there on the stage. Rune and I acted as witnesses.”
Hemi cleared his throat, and everyone looked in his direction. “Enough about that. I’d appreciate if you left Sophia out of this conversation. There are more important things we should discuss. The nanites? Why Shannon isn’t here?”
“I already got the nanites inside me. All we have to do now is have Gina draw some of my blood to mix up injections for the rest of you.” Jack chose to completely ignore the second question because he wasn’t ready to discuss Shannon. A slight wave of nausea hit him, and he ignored it by shoveling more stew in his mouth.
“He should have tests first, though.” This came from Rune, Drag’s younger brother.
“I completely agree.” Gina slapped her palm on the table and a bit of stew splashed out of Jack’s bowl and hit his hand.
Does she have food tonight?
Damn, he needed to stop thinking of her.
“A double check of vitals wouldn’t be a bad thing.” Jack tried to act like he was as invested in this conversation as everyone else, but it was easier to keep shoveling food or drink into his mouth. Though doing so had an opposite effect because then his mind wandered to Shannon. His stomach ached a bit, though the food was fine, all because he was trying to eat away his own frustration.
“You still haven’t said what happened to Shannon,” Hemi said, just loud enough Jack could hear him. His face was all worry lines and a grimace as if someone had died. Jack would have to say something, at some point.
“Does it matter?” Snapper leaned in and gave Jack a gentle shove. “This guy got the nanites. We don’t need her. With these, we’ll get you back in action, Hemi. Even your new wife will be happy about that. Gina can work up a new physical therapy plan. And we save a little money.”
Jack tapped his spoon against the bowl to get everyone’s attention. “Not exactly. I told Shannon when we parted ways that she could find Drag at the next race to collect the rest of what she’s owed.”
A look of relief spread across Hemi’s entire frame. His shoulders relaxed and he took a nice long drink. “So, she’s alive.”
“Of course she’s alive. But maybe you shouldn’t be so concerned about another woman who’s not your wife?” Snapper was answering for Jack. He’d never seen the mechanic so buoyant, as if he refused to let anything kill this semi-celebration.
“Love of a good woman and the support of a family will do that for a man.” Those were words his father had said before. Where they came from now, Jack didn’t know. He’d fucked up, though.
“Yeah, I’ll keep to my own business then. Besides, our Jack is one of the good ones. He made the right choice, I’m sure.” Those were Hemi’s last words on the topic. The fellow driver got up and walked off.
Drag frowned at his departure, but Jack got it. Hemi had warned Jack before he’d left, had practically begged him not to chase Shannon away.
“He liked her a lot,” Drag said.
Gina nodded. “She was the only one who didn’t treat him differently since the accident… Well, until Sophia showed up.”
“Hey.” Snapper was back to his jovial touches. “We can’t let Hemi ruin the mood. Jack’s back, our brother. We need to celebrate, be happy.”
The conversation rotated then to their successful, shared memories. Jack finished his bowl of stew, another mug of ale, then Gaia kicked them out. They all piled out of the Watering Hole so Gaia could officially clean up and actually get a good night’s rest.
Snapper and Gina made their way back to the mechanics bay. Rune went home to his Petal. Drag lingered a moment.
“Are you good? You seemed a little distant in there.”
Jack thought about telling the truth but couldn’t. Not to Drag. “Really, I’m exhausted and…I never thought I’d miss this place as much as I did.”
Drag smiled at him, a lightening to his eyes even in the low light. “I’m glad you missed us. Glad this place has become a home for you as much as the rest of us.”
Jack clapped Drag on his shoulder and tried to ignore the sting on his palm from hitting cybernetic metal. “You’re doing a good job. Now I’ll work on making sure we finish it, get that championship.”
Drag nodded, but didn’t respond, just walked off into the night, down the street and into his quarters. Jack headed to his place as well. His small two-bedroom shack was something that had been handed to him by his family. He’d lived there since he’d been born and had hoped to bring home…
“Fuck,” he swore under his breath. He locked his hand around the doorknob but he didn’t want to turn it.
“Suggest you open the door so we can have this conversation inside versus out.” Hemi’s deep bass was like a low growl from an invisible predator.
Jack opened the door. “You’ve got questions, I’ll answer them.”
He left it ajar so Hemi could follow him inside. Jack lit a lamp and turned the heat element on low. Since the injections, he’d found himself not as cold as he used to feel. The tests that Gina had suggested were definitely needed.
He heard the lock click, then Hemi said, “Tell me what you did and why she didn’t come back.”
* * * *
Shannon tipped back another shot and closed one eye to get the card numbers to stop doubling. She’d decided after Jack ran off the best way to get a ride was to earn some money. The Trading Post offered several options for her to get crinkle, though the easiest choice had been a poker game.
Wasn’t long before she was up, big. Though of course she didn’t turn down a drink or five. No, the booze numbed the ache in her chest at Jack being gone. Let her push away the memories. Those words he’d said, all of them had cut like a thousand knives into her flesh. Hurt worse than the nails she’d lost. Though the booze helped numb the pain she still had there too.
Quit lying, me.
“Is the bet to me?” Shannon closed her left eye, then switched for the right eye. She had at least three of kind. Enough to get the job done since this group of three, including the bartender, Old Beard, had seemed to be shit with cards. She almost felt bad for beating them so soundly, but the flash was needed if she wanted to get out of here.
“Yeah, woman. Hurry up.” This was from the bad-teeth nothing that had given her the darts her first stay in Argest.
She shoved all her crinkle into the center. “All in.”
A couple of the men growled, including Bad-Teeth, and they bowed out. All that was left was Old Beard, who stroked that beard and eyed her speculatively. “You’re certain.”
Shannon nodded as she tried to pour another shot of whatever they kept giving her into her mouth. A little bit of the liquid dribbled down her chin. “Yep.”
Old Beard shoved his stake in and laid his cards down. “Straight flush.”
Shannon slapped her own cards down. “Three of kind, bitches.”
She started to grab the pot when Old Beard wrenched her hand away, and she hissed at the contact to wounds on the tips of her fingers. “Hey, that’s mine.”
“Girlie, you lost. You’re so drunk you don’t even realize.”
“I’ll play another, win it back.” She yanked her hand away from him, not caring how much it fucking hurt. A glance showed blood seeping through the bandage on her middle finger. She held up the bloody finger, flipping Old Beard off. “You re-opened the wound. Least you can do is give me a chance to win the crinkle to replace these bandages.”
Old Beard shook his head in dismay. “You don’t know when to quit. The luck’s gone for you, girl. This kind of crap is exactly why you have that Inncukai after you. Just take the loss. I’ll let you sleep in the hut, get a clear head and try again tomorrow.”
“I don’t have after tomorrow,” she replied with a self-deprecating chuckle.
“You’re drunk.”
“One round.” She poured another shot and downed it as Old Beard contemplated her. Sleep would have been nice, but she needed crinkle. The means to survive were up to her. She wouldn’t lose now.
Reaching for her talisman of luck, her necklace, she touched it. Straightaway the words came back, his words.
Damn thing is cursed, you can keep it.
Has he ruined it for me?
She shook her head refusing to let Jack win or ruin what she’d done for years. “I go out on my terms,” she mumbled.
“Fine. One card,” Old Beard said, as he grabbed all the cards and started to shuffle them. The sound made her stomach curdle. The last shot had probably been one too many.
He set the deck in front of him after the fourth shuffle. “Here’s how this works. You tell me if the card is red or black. If you guess right, you win the entire pot. You guess wrong, you’re doing dishes and scrubbing floors until the job is done.”
“It’s black.” Like her life, constantly dark with no light. She was poison to goodness, evidenced by how she’d killed her mother. How she’d scared Jack away.
Old Beard pulled the card and held it up for everyone to see before he showed it to her. A bright red four told her all she needed to know. She let her head drop to the table and started to laugh at the absurdity of everything. How she was here, playing games, taking risks as Jack said she did. Like his mother, he’d said.
He’d cursed the necklace and now it was coming true. Doomed to be cleaning for Old Beard. She kept laughing and when she lifted her head, Old Beard was giving directions to the young man, Cross. Only this time she noticed the scars on his face, the way he swayed on his feet while standing still. She gagged at the movement and swallowed back a small bit of bile.
Closing her eyes, she chuckled once more. “Joke’s on you, old man. I can barely keep my eyes open. When I do, there’s two of you. I’ll end up puking all over those clean dishes.”
“Cross is getting you some dry crust to gnaw on. It will help your stomach and if you puke, then you just wash what you dirty, plain and simple. That will be payment for a place to sleep.”
The crust did help a bit. In fact, as she chewed on the dry bread, she realized this was the first food she’d put in her mouth all day. From there she followed Cross to the back kitchen area and did the dishes, slowly. The whole post was emptied out by the time she was done, miraculously not puking.
She dragged the mop across the floors with as much strength as she could muster. Exhaustion didn’t cover it. Her fingers throbbed, the buzz from earlier having almost worn completely off. When she’d gotten about halfway through, Old Beard marched over to her and took the mop. “There’s bandages, cleaning alcohol, water and a pill in the hut. Clean your fingers, re-bandage them and take the pill. It will knock you out. Come back and see me tomorrow.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Why do you keep helping me?”
“I knew your father. He was a good friend, though a bit misguided. I knew your mother too and she wasn’t always a Zephyr. She came from here, from Argest.”
“I didn’t know that.” The knowledge was like a brick being thrown at her chest. She’d known very little about her mother growing up since her father refused to give her knowledge or comfort for killing the woman he’d loved.
Old Beard patted her shoulder and pushed her gently toward the door. “Go and we’ll talk more tomorrow.”
She stumbled and slowly made her way to the hut. Throbbing fingers, weak arms, heavy legs…she wanted a cot and to pass out. But her fingers, the bandages were wet, soaked through, and that wasn’t good for healing.
Once in the hut, she bolted the door and set about getting herself cleaned up. It was a struggle, but the cleaning solution and the painful sting it brought gave her a burst of energy. When she finally took the pill and lay down ready for oblivion, she welcomed the rest. Though that was when Jack came, when his voice washed over her and she longed for the heat of him or the comfort of his closeness.
“I miss him,” she sobbed into the darkness. “I love him.”
The words only made her cry more. She reached for a blanket from the other cot, inhaling a little hint of Jack’s smell and the scent of sex that still remained.
I love you. Shannon, I care for you with a deep need I don’t want and can’t stop.
She had to get out of here, find a way to Wespero and to the race stadium. Get back to him and tell him she felt the same. But to do that she had to make changes, be willing to stop destroying herself before she got started.
“In the morning…” She drifted off then to the dream of Jack’s smile and once again finding a place in his arms.
Chapter Nineteen
“You told her you loved her and then you left her?” Hemi sat on the couch, holding a full glass. He took a good sip then shrugged his shoulders. “I still don’t get it.”
Jack had spent the last couple of hours telling Hemi everything that had happened. He left out the details of his and Shannon’s sexual encounters but didn’t hide that he’d been intimate with her.
“She lied to us, Hemi. To all of us and to me, continuously. She’s got Inncukai chasing her at Bridget’s command and until she stops trying to live a life full of risks, gambling everything away over and over in the hopes her luck holds… I just can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Hemi’s question hit Jack square in the gut, a solid punch to his full stomach.
“You don’t understand… Necklace aside, she can’t…”
Hemi let out a dark chuckle. “Funny, you’d think I don’t get it, but I do. Never saw myself with half a cybernetic body at the peak of my racing career. Hell, I married a woman from my past after reuniting with her in less than forty-eight hours, and her father hates me. But here we are. I know all about unmet expectations and how what we’ve built up in our minds is better than reality. Yet you said it yourself. Despite your best attempts, you fell for a woman who appears to enjoy making the same mistakes your mother did.”
“Which I don’t want to live through over and over.”
“I don’t want to be half machine and half man…or married, for that matter. But, if it means a future filled with happiness… Maybe you can’t save her from herself and maybe she won’t change. Yet, if you set aside all your misgivings and open your heart, she might be willing to try. Even if you had weeks, years with her, wouldn’t that be better than sitting here in your lonely-as-fuck little house full of coulds, woulds and shoulds?”
Jack let those words wash over him like a cleansing ion shower. He recalled those moments of happiness Hemi had mentioned. The night at the Trading Post, their last moments together, even their banter amid fights and messes. She’d never abandoned him. And you left her.
At the same time… “What if it’s not enough?”
“Enough of what, for whom?” Hemi said as he tossed back the rest of the water in his glass. “You keep putting stipulations on everything inside of just being. That’s the big difference between you and Shannon. She exists in the universe, flows with it, riding the track and adjusting to the obstacles. The same way we would during a race. Only she’s doing it in real time. You’re so afraid of what you might lose you won’t even jump on the track.”
Jack traced his teeth with his tongue, keeping his mouth shut at his objections. He looked down at his cybernetic leg, thinking back to when he’d volunteered for the procedure. How he’d been scared out of his mind, but the promise of walking again was something he couldn’t turn away from. The racing accident had cost him his leg, but he couldn’t risk losing a chance to walk again.
Since getting his leg back, he’d invested everything into Full Throttle, into the success of their town in the wake of the Smith’s mismanagement and the lies told. he’d been falsely believing he’d been taking risks while all along he’d been playing it safe himself, always safe. The same town, the same gang, the same house he’d grown up in. Sticking to his strengths, his driving skills, his speed at the track…
“Maybe you’re right, but there’s something safe in what you know.”
Hemi shrugged. “Says you, sitting alone, while the woman you love might be out there getting hurt, tortured.”
Jack shoved out of his seat. “You’re one to talk. Married to someone you barely know with enemies for in-laws?”
“Well, I mean…it can’t get worse, right? She’ll figure out I’m useless soon enough and leave. Until then, guess I’m stuck, but at least I’m not alone.”
