Chapter 33

That truck was a bitch to drive. I never drove one before, so it was a good thing I only used it to pick up my Pall Malls and nothing else. Honestly, that was the most active I've been in days.

After what happened, Blake was nice enough to give me a couple days off. I stayed inside, rested up, relaxed, and did some painting. I didn't go anywhere or see anybody, and I even skipped the meeting (which felt amazing, by the way). It was a great break from everything – and helped my soreness go away. However, it left me alone with my thoughts, making my fear and paranoia even worse.

Dad pulled through and had an emergency restraining order put in place until a permanent one could be approved. There was a lot of law stuff and complicated gibberish, but in general, this is what it meant: August was not allowed on my property or to make contact with me. Though I told Blake I didn't want him or anyone stirring the pot, I feared that's exactly what this restraining order would do. Nothing else happened, but I was scared it would come even faster now, and be even worse. That fear kept me up at night.

Blake texted me everyday, checking up on me. Then, just after I finished painting one afternoon, I received more than just a check-up text. "Hey, I just got out of work. I was going to swing by and pay you. Be there in about 5 minutes."

"Five minutes?" I groaned. The one damn day I stay in my pajamas and don't put make-up on....

I did a rush-job of getting dressed and doing my hair; I threw on eyeliner and did my brows, but the bell rang, signaling I couldn't finish. He's seen me worse I guess, but it still made me self-conscious. Even after a full shift at the gas station, he still looked good.

Coming inside, he wore slacks and a black tee. The heat left a few beads of sweat around his freckled nose and his coarse facial hair. "Hey, how was today?"

"Good. Laid-back," I said, shutting the door after he stepped inside.

Pulling out his wallet, he sighed. "Since you've been been resting the past few days, that means I'm only going to be paying you 100 for half the week. Hopefully that's enough for you to get by."

"Yeah, it's fine. I don't expect you to pay me for days I don't work," I nodded, taking the money. Blake's done a lot for me, asking for nothing in return. So, I figured it was time I showed him my appreciation. Hiding my smile, I headed into the kitchen and added, "I do have some paintings for you though."

"Weren't you resting? If you painted, I can pay you for those – and those would count as work days too," he said, following me.

"Not this time," I said, heading to my messy little painting area next to the sliding door. Behind my easel, I had two finished paintings propped up and facing the wall. One was special – and I was saving that one to show him last. So, I picked up the other one, turned, and handed it to him. "I still don't know why you want to buy these from me, but this one is free."

Though it was just another city-scape painting, he looked it over with amazement, but then back to me with confusion. "Why? Ruth, you work for me and this is part of that. Plus, I owe you for working the whole week now too."

"First of all, I wasn't working," I said playfully. "I was relaxing by painting. Second, this painting was a screw-up. Therefore, it's worth nothing. See?" I said as seriously as I could, pointing at an almost invisible, but intention, gray dot in the corner.

He had to dip his head and lift the painting to see it. But once he did, his lips turned into an amused and questioning smile. "Really? That dot you can barely notice means I don't owe you anything for it?"

"That's exactly what it means. See that one I just finished? That one just happens to have a mistake too," I said, nodding behind me to the canvas on the easel. It was another city-scape, one of smoke-stacks. It had another invisible 'mistake' I made. I finished it almost an hour ago and it was still drying. "Once it's dry, it's yours for free too."

Setting the painting in his hands on the counter, he crossed his arms. "I don't understand...."

"Well, you see, my employer and landlord Mr. McCormick has done a lot for me. A lot of things he didn't need to do. So, I wanted to thank him. And though I know it doesn't involved dirt, sweat, and nature, I still hope he likes it – and I really hope he likes this," I smiled, handing him the last finished painting, the special one, and kept it facing down.

When he flipped it around in his hands, his eyes widened. "Holy shit," he chuckled in surprise, looking over the wide painting. It was a dramatic close-up of a fluffy Sherman. It was the first time I ever painted anything that wasn't related to city-life. But it turned out very well."This is amazing! I can't believe you did this. You made him look all mighty, like a king!"

"That was the point. You can frame it in gold and hang it in Sherman's thrown room," I joked.

Continuing to admire it, he slowly shook his head. "I can't believe you did this. I mean, the free work and free paintings were sweet of you, but this is just awesome." Gingerly setting it down, he then gave me an unexpected hug.

Smiling, I wrapped my arms around his back, trying to ignore how nice he felt. "Don't get use to it. You know how much I like money."

Stepping back, he laughed. "Don't worry, I know. Which is why I figured you're probably ready to get back to that hard-labor you love so much."

Wonderful. Though I became use to it, I never liked it. "Maybe I'll just flip this truck and buy myself the rest of the week off." It would be tempting honestly. These past few days did not help my paranoia. The blinds and curtains have been closed, doors locked, and I've hardly slept. I didn't want to think about being back in the outside world.

"You flip that truck, that would buy you more than a week. I'd kill you."

Despite our joking, sure enough, I was back to hard-labor the next day. We continued working in the backyards, landscaping them and planting bushes. It was nice to get out of the house, but my fear and paranoia was only heightened. Being tired and distracted helped – and hard work only made me more exhausted. God, the rest of this day was going to be a drag. Our day was only half over by the time we took a break and headed to his house.

"Dude, I swear, if you don't hurry, I will fall asleep right here," I mumbled from where I was laying on my stomach in his kitchen. The cold tile felt so good against my hot face. Of course, I wasn't an animal; I made sure the floor was clean before plopping down in desperation.

"A little patience for the chef please."

My tiredness didn't have enough patience. While he was preparing our grilled cheeses with chips, my eyes on his ankles slowly got heavier. Then just like that, I passed out on his floor. It was almost as embarrassing as turning into a crying mess in front of him. I blushed almost immediately when he knelt down and shook me awake.

Blinking my strained eyes, I sat up and sighed, still so tired. "Sorry." I had to only be asleep for a few minutes until he finished our lunch, but it was still embarrassing.

Hair slicked back and dry from earlier sweat, I could see worry lines form along his forehead. "Why are you so tired? You had days to sleep for as long as you wanted," he said, helping me up and handing me my plate of food.

"Believe me, I wanted to, but I just couldn't sleep." After working like a slave though today, falling asleep shouldn't be an issue tonight.

We both sat down at his little table in the corner of his kitchen. While I took a bite of my cheesy grilled sandwich, he just stared at me. He didn't even have to ask why I was having issues sleeping. "What will make you not as scared?"

"Not really. Just him getting evicted." I brought it up days ago, but evicting August wasn't a possibility. Which is fucked in my opinion.

"Like I said a few days ago, I can't. I've tried looking for any legal way to get him out, but I need more cause to evict him."

"Well, what can we do to... make cause? Why do you usually evict people?" Yes, I was desperate at this point.

He half rolled his eyes and scoffed. The honest man he was didn't agree with my line of thinking. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you insinuate foul play. And believe it or not, I've never had to evict anyone before."

I shouldn't really be surprised. This was the most boring place on Earth with the most boring people. "Okay then, on an ethical and unrelated note, what things could get someone evicted?"

"Well, here's something that could cause an eviction: a tenant of mine trying to get another tenant kicked out."

"Blake, I won't do anything. I just don't understand. If harassment doesn't do it, what kind of shit do people need to do then to get evicted?" I said, taking another bite.

Sitting up, he spoke evenly and more seriously. "Beyond rent issues, the most likely reason for an eviction would be some type of disturbance issue. Things that would violate the rules and agreements in the contract. Unfortunately, you need to understand. The disturbance clause in my lease doesn't apply to anything that occurred before the move-in date."

"That's fair enough, but if you didn't notice, quite a few things happened since he moved in."

He nodded along with my words before continuing. "Yes, and a restraining order was enacted during the lease. However, that restraining order was founded mainly on previous occurrences. The car flipping hasn't been proved, just speculated. Just like all the other incidences. So, my hands are tied. But believe me... if there is anything else I could do... I would. I just hate the threat he poses to you," he said sharply before hiding the anger he still harbored. Resting an elbow on the table with a sigh, he tossed a chip into his mouth. "Why doesn't your husband come out and stay with you? Or at least visit you. I mean you're so scared, you can't sleep. He should be with you."

"It's complicated," I sighed. "He's a lawyer and can't just... come out here and stay with me." Fuck, I really needed better excuses and stories ready and on hand. Like what I said next, it was just stupidly generic: "He's busy and he has his own stuff going on."

Blake didn't even bother trying to argue. Probably because we both knew my words were bullshit. Staring at me, burying his true reaction to that, he moved on. "Well, I have something that might make you feel better."

"The rest of the day off?"

Taking a bite of his sandwich, he pulled his phone out from his pocket. All the while, a subtle smirk, one of pride, crawled to his face. A few moments later, he set his phone on the table, and turned it towards me. The screen showed a black and white view, like a surveillance camera. It was of a street and two houses. My house and August's house.

"You put up a camera?" I wasn't sure how to feel.

"It's just one camera, on top of my garage, and it's always recording. So if he breaks the restraining order (at least if he does here), he will get caught."

My paranoid mind started scrambling. One time, I pushed Sid to put up cameras to document August, but I was kind of glad he never did because I also would have been filmed. The last thing I wanted was for Sid to capture any suggestive footage with Blake and use it against me in court. However, this was in Blake's hands, and I could trust him with this. "This... does make me feel better," I said slowly.

Putting his phone away, he reassured me, "I'm not spying on you and I don't even look at it. It's just there if he violates the restraining order. It doesn't make me feel much better because it's not like I can stop him from doing anything," he said with aggravation.

"It might send him to jail faster though."

"Yeah, only after he tries hurting you again." Clearly, he was still on-edge about the whole thing. And while we ate, I could see more of it too. He was amazing at hiding negative feelings, but I could see they played in his mind. "It's... all I've been thinking about. When rent was due a few days ago, and he put it in the drop-box on my porch, I had to stop myself from confronting him," he admitted after we finished eating.

I hated seeing how much this bothered him; it bothered him almost as much as it did me! And what could we do? We were stuck here, with August across the street, a constant reminder more would be coming my way. I just wished I could make it all go away.

Then, something clicked. If my dad couldn't make August go away in time, maybe I could....

After our break was over, we were about to head outside and get back to work. Before we left the amazing air conditioned sanctuary though, Blake headed through the living room towards the side hallway. "I just need to run to the bathroom first. Grab a water for me, will you?"

"Yeah," I answered, standing in the kitchen... and realizing I had a chance.

However, for a long moment, all I could do was stare at the kitchen drawer. The one he kept all the house keys in. I just stared at it, standing there, breath increasing. There was two weeks until the mandatory inspection. Places you rent always had inspections and one was coming up. Enough time for me to take the key, copy it, and then return it to the envelope before he would need to use it.

I had enough to feel guilty about, but I was desperate. Desperate to keep my life, fix it, keep my kids, and be a better person. That's what I was aiming for this whole time. And though telling the truth would be the right thing, it would ruin any future with my kids – and with my family. I had to do this, I had to, and yes, I absolutely needed to convince myself there was no choice. Plus, the dude tried killing me by cutting my breaks. August cut your breaks, he deserves this.... Just do it, you need to, he deserves to be fucked with, and you can't take his shit lying down....

Blake was still in the bathroom – but not for long. Breaking my frozen stance, I yanked open the drawer and opened the file-folder. Finding August's file, his number, his papers, and that envelope. Scrambling to get the key out of it, I buried it in my pocket with my cigarettes. Then, I rushed to put the file-folder back and close the drawer.

God, I can't believe what I was thinking of doing, but it was better than trying to kill him. Hell, I might even change my mind or find another idea. But I had his key, so one option was at least on the table if I do decided to go with it.

Grabbing two water bottles from the fridge, feeling mixed emotions, I heard Blake come out from the bathroom. "Ready?"

"Yup," I said, following him out the door.

***

A few days later, the furniture sets Blake ordered started arriving. Which, sure, that was great and all – if I wasn't the one loading them into the houses!

It was shitty day already. I was paranoid, fearful, it was over 90 degrees, and Blake had to work at the marina today, so I was by myself. Sorry, correction, I was with my lovely neighbors. They were offering me a hand, helping me move the furniture from the trucks to the houses. It was great to have help, and yes it was very nice, but it meant meaningless chit-chat too. It was the cherry on top of a huge shit-pile of a day. Did I mention it was over 90 degrees?! That was the cherry on top of the other cherry!

Every day I worked under the sun was a miserable experience. This though... I don't think I've ever sweat this much, or taken so many breaks. Which says something since I used to take tons of breaks when I first started slave-laboring for Blake. There was at least one upside: thanks to the restraining order, August left his house open while he was at work, allowing me and the neighbors to just move the furniture in without him.

By the end of the day, I was so overheated and done. It was just a terrible day overall. I mean, with each day, I was more and more anxious about August. And with each day, I was more and more sick of thinking about it. When I got home, I showered, and just laid down on my couch, in front of a fan. Since I was still having issues sleeping at night, I often accidentally took a nap – and today wasn't an exception. Not like I minded. Sleeping meant not thinking.

However, around 7:30 that evening, I woke up from my phone ringing next to me. Blinking, stretching and grabbing my phone, I saw it was Blake. "Hello?" I answered with a mumble.

"Fell asleep, huh? I can let you sleep more because I know you need it."

Ugh, the sound of his voice over the phone always gave me chills. I loved it. "Um, no, I'm good," I said, sitting up and turning the fan off. "I might as well get up now. I don't want to be up all night."

"Well, if it's up to me, you'll be up all night."

I knew better than to take his words in a suggestive manner; that would be too good to be true. "Wait, what?"

He laughed through the speaker. "Get ready, and don't take forever, okay? Meet me in my garage." Click.

What the hell? I didn't even know what I was getting ready for – and the man was rushing me? He had some balls, especially after waking me up. From how sweet and playful his voice was though, I complied with excitement.

Putting on my wedding ring, I did my make-up like he preferred, and got dressed. With this heatwave, I knew it was still hot out. So, I put on a layer of sunblock, jean shorts, a simple purple camisole, and black heels.

Outside, it was still sticky and humid, but not as bad. August was home, making my heart spike, but I ignored it as much as I could. It became easy once I stepped into Blake's garage. Hell, after seeing Blake, it was hard to focus on anybody else for the rest of the night.

He was sitting on his motorcycle (which I honestly forgot he had). Despite the heat, and the sweat coating his forehead, he was dressed up nicely. With jeans and a red plaid dress shirt that ended just below his forearms. He had on nice sunglasses, hiding his eyes when they found mine at the door.

Lips tilting into a white smile, he spoke as if this was normal. "Hey, ready to go?"

"Wh—? Where? You think I'm getting on that thing?"

"It's not much different from four-wheeling," he said, putting on his helmet, and setting the second one behind him on the seat meant for me.

"Yes, it's much different! Which is probably why you didn't tell me on the phone what you were planning."

"Exactly." Licking his lips, he looked down, amused. "Ruth, we're going to be late. Can't you just skip the stubborn part and give in now?"

It was so hard not smiling. "No," I crossed my arms.

"Alright, well, I can wait – and I can endure this heat better than you. And before you make a city-girl argument, these are new helmets, so they aren't gross, old, or stinky."

My city-girl ass still inspected the helmet when I walked over. Didn't seem bad. I honestly was more nervous about the bike itself, but I trusted Blake. "Alright," I agreed, putting the helmet on, and carefully straddling the huge machine behind him. "Am I allowed to know where we are going?"

"Sorry, gotta keep the mystery alive," he said, starting the bike – and it roared to life. It idled and shook evenly under us – which thankfully hid the fact that it made me jump in in surprise. It emitted a ton of heat around my legs too. Maybe it was alive.

I could already tell this was going to be another memorable night with Blake. My heart was already jumping from the playful air between us – and grabbing him from behind sure helped. God, he smelled so damn good! I just really hope Sid didn't think much of this. I needed to keep that in mind. While I was with Blake, I could not let myself get too caught up in my feelings.

However, when Blake took off, it was as if he read my mind and concerns. As if he knew I was still being watched and stalked. Because once we reached paved roads, he raced off – fast. It was a fun thrill, but there was purpose behind it. He also made a point to take weird turns and detours, as if he expected someone might be following us. Not like I minded. It was fun and thrilling – and if Sid was following us, he wasn't anymore.

Under the lowering sun, Blake turned down the small drive into the marina. There were a few cars next to the docks, but nobody was around. Nobody at the store either. When he parked in front of the long marina dock, and he helped me off the bike, I couldn't help but ask, "What was all that? You drove everywhere before coming here," I grinned.

Taking off his helmet with mine, he smiled down to me. "Just wanted to show off to a girl who has never been on a motorcycle. Is that okay?"

I chuckled, but had to wonder... did he know Sid was following me? I sure hope not. Since 'I was working on things' with my hubby, there was no need for rat-face to be around in Blake's mind. Regardless, his aimless driving did lose Sid, meaning I was without a chaperon. God, I needed to be careful and not let myself get carried away with Blake....

Better said than done. Because that's exactly what happened. 

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Uh-oh... how far do you think they get 'carried away?' I'm excited to post the next one and I hope you enjoyed this one - and are liking the story so far! I'm really curious what you think overall because this wasn't a book I spent much time trying to develop of anything (it's more of a break than anything). Not that it isn't important, it's just a change is all. Anyway, is it dragging or boring at all? Too simple or do you think it's good so far? I am curious truly so please be honest it wont hurt my feelings haha 

Regardless, thank you very much for reading! And I hope everyone is doing well out there during this time!