My Hired Boyfriend (Completed)

49. Photograph (Coda's POV)

You can fit me

Inside the necklace you got when you were 16

Next to your heartbeat

Where I should be

Keep it deep within your soul.

"Wait for me to come home."

Three years later (Coda's POV)

            I run my hands down my jeans, a long smear of black running down the length of my leg.

            It's hotter than hell in this room and the smell of gasoline and rusted metal is so strong, it even makes me want to run for the hills and throw up this mornings breakfast.

            Running the back of my hand across my brow, I squint against the beating sun to examine the men around me.

            While some are under cars, others are manning the hood area of the rusted cars.

            Taking a head count of the cars around me, I am pleased to note that the men are working hard on repairing them all. What started out as a few rusted, run down cars here and there turned into a reasonable size garage full of cars that we would repair and resell for decent money.

            When Hazel's father first asked me to take over the family business for him, I didn't take him seriously-I couldn't.

            Why would he ask a deadbeat nobody fresh-out-of-jail like me to take over his business?

            He wasn't joking though.

            I guess I should've know the Reeds didn't have a sense of humor because the next thing I know, he's handing me the keys to a new garage and I'm looking at a dozen boys who call me boss.

            Hell if I knew this was the kind of job I'd get fresh out of jail, I would've gone a lot more willingly.

            I'm kidding. Don't tell Hazel. She'll have my balls for making a joke like that.

            Jokes aside, it's been a year since I've taken over the business.

            Since then, I have hired all new workers, gotten new cars to repair and have shaped up the business. It was easier to start all over with a new garage in a new location. Even though Hazel's dad never mentioned it, I'm glad he sold the old garage and bought a new one. The old one had too many bad memories that even a bottle of bleach couldn't clean away.

            Even though its nearly been two years since I've gotten out of that hell hole of a jail, my past still lingers. Sometimes I'll dream about Ridge's death again and see  Hazel bleeding out on that dirty floor all over again-

            Those nights are bad-I'm not going to lie.

            It's bad for both of us some days.

            Sometimes I'll catch Hazel eyeing that big scar on her stomach in the mirror, her lips downturned in a frown. No matter how kisses I place on her skin, that sad look in her eyes remains. I guess we both bear the physical marks of that night.

            Once in a while, she'll still panic at the sound of a gun going off in a movie we watch and the only thing that'll help her is holding her tight enough to remind her that we're okay. Those days have gotten fewer though.