Page 7 of His Retribution

Posey laughs, the sound musical and warm. "Think nothing of it, honey. You've still got the job." She helps me to my feet and steadies me. "How often does that happen?"

Without shame, I rub my tailbone where it's screaming at me. I must have gone down faster than anyone could react. "That rarely happened before a few weeks ago. Mostly I just get little headaches, ones that don't lay me out, but ever since I got here they've been getting worse and worse."

"And when did you get here?"

"Two weeks ago. Like I said, I broke down on my way through and my funds finally dried up." With a sigh I lean against the door. "I still have a couple thousand dollars worth of work to put into my truck and that's only if I can do all of it myself."

At this, Posey's brows lift. "You have experience as a mechanic too?"

I giggle then wince. "I'm sort of ajack of all trades. Been a lot of places, had a lot of jobs, acquired a lot of skills." I shrug. "You learn to adapt when you wander the way I do."

"I bet your parents are both thrilled and terrified." Posey smiles, but when I only drop my eyes it falls. "Oh honey, Gypsy, I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"No, no, it's ok." I shake my head. "It's not like you know me, we just met. I just, I don't have any family. I was orphaned as a baby, spent most of my life bouncing around and I got used to it. So I kept up the nomadic lifestyle and here I am."

God, why did I have to tell her all that?

She didn't ask. Didn't demand I share anything, let alone the catalyst for a conversation I most definitely do not want to have. Clearly my social awkwardness is showing.

"Gypsy, I didn't mean to..."

I wave her off and try to force a smile. "It is what it is. It makes things easier, really. No one to miss me while I'm gone; no one waiting for me to come back. I get to keep living my life the way I like it; unattached and free."

Posey frowns as her eyes fill with pity and disbelief.

I'm such an idiot. That sounded like bullshit even to me.

But the truth is no better.

Orphaned when I was a year old. Lived in foster homes until I ran away at fifteen. Moved from city to city, state to state for almost fifteen years. Never use my real name for fear of being found.

No bank account.

No insurance.

Nothing to identify me other than a drivers license, social security card, and birth certificate that are locked away and hidden in my truck.

No family or friends. No ties to anyone or anything.

No one to call when I'm so lonely, when my heart hurts so bad from mourning a loss I don't even remember, one I don't know ever actually existed, that all I can do is cry.

No one to uplift me, support me, care for me in any way. No one to sooth me, to make me believe the nightmares aren't real. No one to notify when the man with soulless eyes finally gets me.

It's just me and my fear, my paranoia, my nightmares and pain.

Well, and Samson, but my Great Dane can't exactly execute my last will and testament, so it is what it is.

I'm alone and I always will be.

Quickly, I wipe at the tears building on my lower lid, and send up a silent thank you for buying the waterproof liner. "Anyway. I appreciate you giving me a chance. I can start as soon as possible, if you still want me to. The sooner I get started the better."

Posey blinks then nods. "How about tomorrow night?"

My smile is genuine this time. "Yes. Yes, that is perfect. Are you sure you don't want me to start tonight? I can. I mean, I know I need some training but—"

"Tomorrow is fine, honey." Posey is finally smiling too. "What's your availability?"

"All the time."