Chapter 31

Candice
This is it. Jared and Laynie are getting released today. I feel like a parent waving goodbye to their children on their first day of school. I don't expect to ever see them again, so today is bitter sweat. I spent most of my shift yesterday checking on them. Ben was not happy that I spoke with Jared, or that I assigned myself over to him and Laynie, but I know he was pleased I didn't take anything too far. I couldn't do that to them. Especially in their current state.
Yesterday Jared woke up needing more pain medicine. I was able to talk with him a little and all he was worried about was Laynie. I am so happy for them, but at the same time jealousy roared its ugly head at me. I have never had a man care for me the way Jared does Laynie.
"Here are your discharge papers. Jared's are in there as well. It reiterates everything Dr. Toring has explained to you. Phone number is at the bottom so if you feel any discomfort please don't hesitate to call." I say to Laynie as I handed her the paperwork.
I can hear her thank me in a shy quiet voice but I'm too busy looking at Jared. I hate that I can't tell him who I am. I have never had any family and to find out I do and that they are so close, is killing me. Given his current state I know I can never tell him. He is too vulnerable right now but it's also too dangerous. I look to Laynie who is giving me confused stare and smile. She probably assumes I like Jared or something. Not even close girlie.
A couple hours later I walk into the nurse's station to grab my purse, so I can head home. I see Lyla approaching me and I prepare myself for a tongue lashing. I am sure she is more than a little upset that I didn't tell her about Jared being my patient. I cut her off before she can say anything and apologize.
"Well damn girl, I'm supposed to be able to yell at you for keeping secrets, but I can't do that when your being all apologetic and cute." She says crossing her arms and smirking at me. She can never stay mad at me.
"I know Lyla, I'm sorry. Everything happened so fast these last couple days and I wanted you to be able to enjoy your days off without burdening you with my drama." I say genuinely. It's not like I didn't want to tell her, but she is very busy taking care of her daughter. I couldn't necessarily call her and tell her all about my drama while she is trying to take care of her child.
"Girl please, Adrianna is two years old. My days off consist of brushing the Barbie's hair three hundred times and singing the ABC song." She says laughing.
She makes fun, but I know she loves being a mom. Adrianna's pictures are posted all over her desk. Lyla has not had it easy. Adrianna was an unexpected blessing when Lyla lived in Galveston, Texas. When the father told Lyla he wanted nothing to do with the baby, Lyla moved to New York to be with her sister and take care of her baby on her own. She has never dated since coming out here six months pregnant. When she isn't here, she is at home taking care of her daughter.
I laugh right along with her and say my good-bye's. I am off for eight straight days. I never take this many days off in a row, but we recently hired a few more girls and the schedule worked out that way. I don't doubt for one minute that Ben had something to do with that. He is constantly telling me to take a vacation.
I head out to the parking lot towards my car and get an eerie feeling someone is watching me. I turn around in a full circle but see nothing out of the ordinary. I shake it off and get in my car and drive home. Halfway through my drive home my car starts to shake uncontrollably, and I can see a small amount of smoke coming from the hood. I immediately pull over and start banging my head on the steering wheel. I don't get the car serviced as often as I should. My grandpa Frank would be rolling over in his grave if he knew I was driving a 97' mustang and not getting it continuously checked. I can't believe this is happening on the start of my mini vacation.
After a few minutes of feeling sorry for myself I grab my phone to call a tow truck and realize it is completely dead. Crap, I forgot to charge it at work today. I get out of the car and walk over to the hood. I see that it is still a little smoky, so I lift the hood with a towel I had in my back seat. I have no idea what I am looking for but maybe seeing a woman on the side of the road with her head in her hood will indicate a man to stop and offer some help. Wait, isn't that how most horror movies start?
Before I could bring the hood back down, I see a tow truck speed past me then pull over right in front of where me and my jalopy are. I didn't see the name of the tow truck company, but I go into my glovebox of my car and grab my stun gun just in case. You can never be too sure. When I see a familiar blonde-haired beauty, my hand carrying the stun gun relaxes. I pick up my purse and place the stun gun inside. What luck that he happened to see me, I know this is a busy road but what are the odds that a tow truck driven by a man I met a few days ago, would just drive past me while I am need of one.
"Thought that was you beautiful." He says.
He is even better looking in the sunlight. I walk over to him and let him know what happened with my car.
"Hi, thank you so much for pulling over, my car just failed on me, and my phone is dead. Thank God you were driving nearby. Uh…" I pause realizing I don't know what his name is. I know he is a member of the same biker gang as Austin, but I don't think any of them introduced themselves to me. Hell, even Austin only indicated who he was to me.
"Max, Max Stone. Nice to formally meet you ma'am." He says in a sexy deep tone.
Stone? Wait, he is Austin's brother? Wow, they look nothing alike. I guess If I squint my eyes, tilt my head, stand on one foot and hop up and down, I can see they might have the same nose, but that's pretty much where the similarities stop.
"Max, thank-you again. I'm Candice, Candice Holmes. I didn't know bikers have their own tow truck." I say lower my head at me shoving my foot in my mouth. That was a rude statement for the man that decided to pull over and save me. Besides, I learned last year that appearances are not at all what they seem. I have no room to judge him like society does when my very father looks like an upstanding citizen but is quite the opposite.
Max chuckles a little, despite my remark, then points at my car. When I nod my head, he heads over to the piece of crap and whistles. I get that reaction a lot. My car is an old classic and I have had many men, usually older, stop and admire the mustang. My grandfather had a thing for the classics and it's something me and him bonded over. When he passed a few years ago, I knew I wanted to get a car that reminded me of him, too bad it needs to be constantly looked after.
Max pops the hood and takes a look inside, I slowly walk over to him and notice what his little vest thing says. Nightmare Warriors. The image is a long road with a skeleton wearing armor riding down the road on a motorcycle. I didn't realize I was staring so close until he back into me and I stumble to the ground.
"Oh shit, you okay Candice?" He asks lifting me up like I weigh a feather.
"Yes, yeah, I'm fine, sorry I was looking at your vest." I say a little embarrassed I fell so easily.
He chuckles again as he shakes his head. "It's called a cut babe. Looks like you've blown a gasket. I could tow it over to the shop if you want." He says looking around, not the first time I noticed he has done that.
"Oh sure, yes please, can you just tell me how much you charge first?" I ask pulling my wallet out of my bag.
"No charge. Hop in my truck and we can get going." He says closing my hood and walking over to the little doohickey to anchor my busted-up car to his tow truck.
I stare up at him in awe. No charge? Why would he not want money? Isn't that his job? Unless, Oh God, what does he think he is going to get instead? I hold my bag a little closer, my right-hand going into my purse slowly to grip my stun gun. He may have a very trusting face, but I do not know this man.
When he turns around he sees my apprehension then looks down to my hands. He must see a bulge because his whole demeanor changes. I may not know Max Stone, but I can tell he has some kind of darkness buried within him because he is about to unleashed it. Max walks over to me quickly and grabs my throat with his hand. I drop my purse and grip his arm as hard as I can. He is choking me, and I feel myself getting light headed. My right ear is ringing, and I see little black spots around the edges of my vision.
Suddenly I am dropped to the floor and rushing to catch my breath. I scoot back far away from Max as fast as I can, still on my behind. I look to see if he is coming after me when I see him rub his eyes and shake his head back and forth. He looks around like he is just realizing where he is then looks down at the ground. Fuck. My purse is right in front of him. My cell phone, and stun gun are laid out of my purse on the ground. Max see's the stun gun then looks to me.
I can tell it isn't the same Max that just hurt me, but I keep scooting back as he nears. When I finally get my bearings about and get up to run, I hear him shout something that halts my step.
"I was in Afghanistan." I turn around and notice he is looking down with one hand gripping his neck. "I was diagnosed with PTSD. I am so sorry I hurt you. It's just, when I saw your purse and saw your stun gun, I lost it. I can call another brother out to tow your vehicle if you would like. Or you can call the police. Whatever you want Candice." He says sounding exasperated.
I slump my shoulders in sadness. My grandfather was in the Korean War and my grandmother says when he got back he was never the same. Of course, back then, they didn't realize he had PTSD, everyone just said the war changed him. I walk over slowly to Max who still has his head down and lift my bag. I feel sympathy for him but I'm not stupid. I still plan of keeping my purse close to me.
"When you said no charge I figured, you know." I say a little embarrassed, this whole thing started over me thinking he was making a move.
"I only said no charge because my brother was a complete ass to you the other day at the hospital. Of course, now I'm being a total dick too." He finishes.
I walk over to him a little closer and put my palm on his shoulder. When he looks up at me his gaze stops at my neck, then reaches my eyes. I have my mother's pale skin, so I bruise easily. I am sure I already have some signs of bruising.
"Can we start over? I would like it if you could take me to your shop, but I insist on paying. I am not a fan of handouts." I say genuinely.
He nods his head and walks over to the tow truck. When he opens the passenger door I head over myself and wait for him to go over to my car before I climb in. I have never been on the inside of a tow truck, but it isn't all that special. I do see a picture on his visor of what I'm assuming is his troop. I don't want to push him by asking though.
When we pull into his shop just ten minutes later I climb out and thank him. Max leads me over to the main office and explains to a colossal sized man that I need a gasket replaced. As they are talking I take a look around the lot. My house is mere miles from this shop and yet I have never seen it. Max comes out a few minutes later and explains to me that they will fix it up.
"You're good to go Red." The ladies' man seems to be back in tow.
"Thank-you again for stopping Max, I really appreciate it."
Max walks over to me but stops a couple feet away, he must not want to startle me. Something I appreciate dearly. I can see him staring directly at my neck and as much as he frightened me earlier, I don't want him to think I am angry with him. I know certain things trigger episodes for men who have served. I have seen it plenty of times at work.
"I'm alright Max, really." I say to him honestly.
He gives me a slight smile and nods his head once at me. He looks embarrassed so I let him walk away to is tow truck.
I wave a goodbye to him and get a small wave in return.
After Max leaves, I head inside and wait out my car repair. Today is already starting to be an exhausting day and it's only nine thirty in the morning.