in the first place, that I see Tim in Storm.
Jemma places her hand on mine. “It’s crazy, but you can’t think like this. Tim’s been gone a long time now. You should move on.”
“With his brother?”
“Perhaps, if it’s right.”
“I just got out of one dangerous relationship and you want me to jump into another?”
“It’s very different and you know it.”
“It’s still dangerous.”
“I guess the question is then, is he worth it? Are you? Only you know the answer to that one.”
*
I find myself driving back to his place. I don’t know why. I’m a mess.
You just want to talk. That’s all.
Just like my first trip out to Millertown, the clouds close in overhead and the radio squeaks out warnings about coming storm cells and adverse weather. I turn it up, happy for anything to drown out the conflict that’s started up between my temples.
I find him in the garage, under a car, just like the first time, a complete sense of déjà vu pervading the whole strange scenario. What is it with this place?
“Can you pass me that spanner?” comes his voice from below.
“The what?”
The long one with the hook thing at the end.
I pick up something that vaguely matches the description and pass it under the car.
“That’ll do.”
He hits something hard three times, curses and slides out on his back, cleaning his hands with a rag.
I can’t take the silence. “Is this how you make a living, cleaning these cars up?”
He stands. “It’s more of a hobby, really.”
“How do you survive then? What do you do for a job?”
“Don’t have a job.”
I’m getting frustrated by his short answers. “What do you mean? I know that money came from you. Where did you get it?”
He opens a tool chest on the table and I see it’s stuffed with cash.
I take a step back, a pit of dread opening up in my stomach. “So, you are a drug dealer.”
He laughs. “Afraid not, as glamourous as Breaking Bad makes it out to be. I’m just good with money, the stock market. Numbers make sense to me. He tosses the spanner onto the table. A hell of a lot more sense than people.”
He sees my questioning face. “You don’t believe me?”
I don’t know what to believe.
He walks to the corner of the workshop and uses the rag to clean two frames on the wall. I walk closer. They’re college degrees.
“They’re yours?”
“That’s my name, isn’t it?”
It’s right there clear as day. I look at him with an increasing sense of wonder.
“Cummings? That’s your last name. Oh, that’s perfect.” I can’t help but laugh.
He’s actually smiling as he stands beside me. “Yeah, the old man preferred Black. Sounds a lot harder.
“But how, I mean, college…”
“Monica,” he fills me in. “Like I said, she helped me get through school, then college, helped me get this house back from the bank.”
“It’s you, isn’t it, the anonymous donor?”
He nods.
“And your dad’s dirty money?”
“Invested it years ago. Apart from what you see here it’s all safely tucked away in accounts only I have access to.”
“How much?”
“A lot.”
“But why don’t you move away? You could live anywhere, do anything.”
“But I choose to live here, and help these people, my people. They need me.”
“Millertown?”
“Yes.”
His altruism is almost too much, too perfect. “You’re full of surprises.”
He nods. “I won’t deny it, but not many people know about this, you hear. I’m making a special consideration for you simply out of the fact you’re drop dead gorgeous and I don’t know any better. You’re really screwing me up, you know? I trust you.”
I step towards him, snaking an arm around his neck, pulling myself closer to his heat, unable to resist him. “You think I’m gorgeous?”
He answers with a kiss, our mouths meeting.
We don’t make it to the bedroom.
He places me down in the middle of the kitchen and for a moment we just stare at each other, breathing deeply in
Jemma places her hand on mine. “It’s crazy, but you can’t think like this. Tim’s been gone a long time now. You should move on.”
“With his brother?”
“Perhaps, if it’s right.”
“I just got out of one dangerous relationship and you want me to jump into another?”
“It’s very different and you know it.”
“It’s still dangerous.”
“I guess the question is then, is he worth it? Are you? Only you know the answer to that one.”
*
I find myself driving back to his place. I don’t know why. I’m a mess.
You just want to talk. That’s all.
Just like my first trip out to Millertown, the clouds close in overhead and the radio squeaks out warnings about coming storm cells and adverse weather. I turn it up, happy for anything to drown out the conflict that’s started up between my temples.
I find him in the garage, under a car, just like the first time, a complete sense of déjà vu pervading the whole strange scenario. What is it with this place?
“Can you pass me that spanner?” comes his voice from below.
“The what?”
The long one with the hook thing at the end.
I pick up something that vaguely matches the description and pass it under the car.
“That’ll do.”
He hits something hard three times, curses and slides out on his back, cleaning his hands with a rag.
I can’t take the silence. “Is this how you make a living, cleaning these cars up?”
He stands. “It’s more of a hobby, really.”
“How do you survive then? What do you do for a job?”
“Don’t have a job.”
I’m getting frustrated by his short answers. “What do you mean? I know that money came from you. Where did you get it?”
He opens a tool chest on the table and I see it’s stuffed with cash.
I take a step back, a pit of dread opening up in my stomach. “So, you are a drug dealer.”
He laughs. “Afraid not, as glamourous as Breaking Bad makes it out to be. I’m just good with money, the stock market. Numbers make sense to me. He tosses the spanner onto the table. A hell of a lot more sense than people.”
He sees my questioning face. “You don’t believe me?”
I don’t know what to believe.
He walks to the corner of the workshop and uses the rag to clean two frames on the wall. I walk closer. They’re college degrees.
“They’re yours?”
“That’s my name, isn’t it?”
It’s right there clear as day. I look at him with an increasing sense of wonder.
“Cummings? That’s your last name. Oh, that’s perfect.” I can’t help but laugh.
He’s actually smiling as he stands beside me. “Yeah, the old man preferred Black. Sounds a lot harder.
“But how, I mean, college…”
“Monica,” he fills me in. “Like I said, she helped me get through school, then college, helped me get this house back from the bank.”
“It’s you, isn’t it, the anonymous donor?”
He nods.
“And your dad’s dirty money?”
“Invested it years ago. Apart from what you see here it’s all safely tucked away in accounts only I have access to.”
“How much?”
“A lot.”
“But why don’t you move away? You could live anywhere, do anything.”
“But I choose to live here, and help these people, my people. They need me.”
“Millertown?”
“Yes.”
His altruism is almost too much, too perfect. “You’re full of surprises.”
He nods. “I won’t deny it, but not many people know about this, you hear. I’m making a special consideration for you simply out of the fact you’re drop dead gorgeous and I don’t know any better. You’re really screwing me up, you know? I trust you.”
I step towards him, snaking an arm around his neck, pulling myself closer to his heat, unable to resist him. “You think I’m gorgeous?”
He answers with a kiss, our mouths meeting.
We don’t make it to the bedroom.
He places me down in the middle of the kitchen and for a moment we just stare at each other, breathing deeply in
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