Needed You

Chapter Eight

I sit on a small stool watching Jacques as he works on my car. He's paused his other jobs - I think because he genuinely thought I was in the middle of a mental breakdown and wanted to get me out of his hair as quick as possible.

He's already gotten me ice, which I hold to my eye, and a coffee, as if I need to add caffeine jitters to my overwhelming anxiety.

"Where are the others?" Jacques throws me a questioning look. "The other guys. Kade said Austin forgot to lock up the other day, so I assume he works here too."

"They're on the dinner run. They'll be back soon."

"Awesome." I mutter, pressing the ice a little firmer to my face. Of all the things I really wanted to happen today, it was to see my two least favourite people while I sit sopping wet with a black eye, tear streaked face, and foul mood.

"I rang. Told them to bring you something back."

"I don't need charity."

"You don't need a lot of things today, do you?" He wipes his hands with a rag, lifting his brow.

"I don't need your attitude, either."

There's a faint smile before he goes on. "You've got a clogged fuel filter. Won't cost much to replace."

"No? And what's your labour charge?"

He pulls a chair opposite me, straddling it backwards with his arms folded over the backrest. "Don't worry about it. Just pay for the part and we're good."

I narrow my eyes with scepticism. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I'm not Austin. Not Kade, either. I do have what some people call empathy."

I drop my icepack and level him with a glare. "That, or you're hoping seeming like a gent might get you a ticket into my pants."

He shrugs, unfazed by the insinuation. "You're already aware I'm interested. Certainly wouldn't turn you down. But I think today you just need a friend. I told you, I'd look after you if you needed me to."

"Sorry if I don't buy the authenticity of that." He smiles.

"Listen, you're around a lot now. I've come to have a little soft spot for you."

I snort. "You're so full of shit."

"So are you." My entire body freezes. "What happened to your eye, Felicity?"

The back of my throat burns with a current of emotion. "I told you. I just fell. It was an accident."

"Do you remember, how I told you I know pain? I can see it on you, and I'm not talking about that little cut and bruise."

I exhale an unsteady breath. "I just... I really need to not talk about it right now."

His lips roll thin. "I get that. We don't need to talk." My nostrils flare as tears fill my eyes. "But you need to feel it, sweetheart, or it's going to eat you up."

My head hangs, chest aching. "I'm just so tired."

His sigh is deep and troubled. The chair scrapes as he moves, and I feel his hand on my shoulder. "Come here."

I do. I rise and fall straight into his arms. He holds me to his chest with a comfort and security I've never felt before. With a warmth and tenderness. When his hand strokes down my hair, a touch so much softer than my fathers which left my scalp stinging, the dam breaks.

I cry into his chest, sobbing so much that it hurts. It hurts everywhere, worsens the pain of my eye and my ribs, squeezes my heart and burns my lungs. Jacques says nothing, perhaps the kindest thing he could do. He doesn't tell me its okay, or that it'll get better. He doesn't know that, he doesn't lie to me. I think because he understands this sort of pain too. He just lets me cry until I start to calm down.