I pulled the phone away from my ear and took a deep breath. I understood squatters. I couldn’t imagine what they were going through to be put in a position where they had to sleep in a half-built home. The homeless population was growing in New York City, and I knew that this would happen eventually, but right now? They couldn’t stay in the house. It had to be ready in two weeks. So many things could go wrong. They could get hurt from the equipment lying around, which meant a lawsuit, and I wasn’t trying to do that to Godrick.
I did want to bring up to him about building a small apartment complex for the homeless. They could stay there free for a few months, enough to get a job and get on their feet. I wanted to give people a chance at life, and while I didn’t have the bank account to do that with, Godrick did.
“Are they there?” I asked.
“No, but I found a few empty food wrappers and a raggedy looking blanket. Maybe they are gone, but I wanted you to know.”
“You did the right thing.” I was glad it meant I didn’t have to get up and leave to go to the job site. My entire body hurt from lifting those fucking beams yesterday. “Call me if things change, okay? If they show up again, I’ll come down.”
“You got it, and Mr. Green?
I exhaled an annoyed breath, and Godrick snickered from the kitchen. He knew damn well what he was doing when he gave me my own crew. “Yeah, Jacob?”
“If we get done painting early, can we go home?”
“As long as the walls are painted. And I don’t want some half-ass job; if I get there in the morning and see it’s not up to my standards, I’ll have you redo it again, by yourself. You got me?”
“Yes, Mr. Green. Thank you.” I heard the smile in his voice. Jacob was young, barely out of high school and was really shy. He was scared shitless of authority.
“Stop calling me Mr. Green.” I hated it. It made me feel old. I was only twenty-seven.
“You got it, Mr. Gree—Uh, Mr. Logan. No problem.”
My fingers ached from how hard I was pinching the bridge of my nose. “Jacob, go paint the walls.”
“Yes, Mr. Green.” The kid inhaled a sharp breath before finally hanging up and stopping himself from saying anything else.
“Jacob Patterson?” Godrick walked into the living room wearing one of those baby harness things around his chest and then handed me a beer.
It was a sight I would never get used to. Godrick laid his hand on the back of his son’s head to support it as he sat down next to me. The man was so different as a father. At work, he seemed so untouchable and badass, but at home, once he walked through the door, the man in a suit melted away.
“Yeah, he is a nervous wreck whenever he talks to someone who is in a position higher than him.”
“He means well. He just needs some direction. It was why I hired him. Someone needed to give him a chance. He does great work. I could care less if he stutters when I talk to him.”
My eyes drifted to the door, and the gears in my head turned to try and figure out a solution with Maria. I took a swallow of beer, coating my dry throat as my stomach tossed and turned, wondering if the only solution meant I couldn’t be her friend anymore. Heck, maybe we were never friends.
And the truth of that was too hard to come to terms with, so I pushed it out of my mind. I’d rather have her in my life than not at all. I wasn’t meant to love her in any way but platonic, but I knew I was meant to be in love with someone.
I just wish whoever it was would come find me already. It felt like my entire body ached from needing someone to love.
Chapter Two
Abigail
I was one of those people that other people liked to avoid on the street. I had a sign that said, ‘Need 10 dollars for Shower and Food’. Luckily, after the accident, I still remembered how to read some words and when it came to writing, I was a bit slower at it, and some words took longer than others, but that was what happened when you got bashed in the head.
Everything was new. The world was new.
And the past year had been the hardest year of my life. The only thing I took from it was the world was a lot crueler than it was kind. People didn’t want to help people like me. They believed that I should help myself, and they weren’t wrong, but I knew nothing about my twenty years of life. I had no memories. The only thing I had to go on was this last year and what people told me.
I didn’t even know my name when I woke up from surgery. It was Abigail. Whoever named me that needed their head examined. I only knew my last name because I saw it on the chart.
Adams.
People’s names were their identity. Their names defined them. The names matched the face of the person it titled.
I was only familiar with my face this past year.