Author's Preface
By 2:00 PM that same afternoon, the factory felt heavy. The air pressure had dropped, and the humidity had spiked, pressing down on the roof like a physical weight.
Kyle sat on his forklift in the shadowy corner of the Shipping Dock, hidden behind a wall of shrink-wrapped pallets. He killed the engine, letting silence fill the corner .
He pulled a bag of gummy worms out of his pocket and chewed angrily. He was thinking about what he had seen earlier. The red tag on Misty's machine. The way she had run to the locker room crying.
He hated Jax. He hated the way Jax walked. He hated his stupid, rugged stubble. He hated that Jax treated Misty like a convenience store—stopping by for a snack whenever he felt like it, then leaving her to clean up the mess .
"You're pathetic," Kyle whispered to himself.
He was about to start the engine again when he heard voices.
The heavy fire door to the outside smoking area drifted open. Smoke curled in, smelling of menthol and rain.
"Did you see her face?"
It was a rough, gravelly voice. Pam.
"I didn't see it," a smoother, colder voice replied. Deb. "But I heard about it. Jax said she looked like a drowned rat." .
Kyle froze. He shrank down in his seat. He listened.
"He was mad, though," Pam grunted. "Came into the office all puffed up. Trying to defend her.".
"He has to defend her," Deb laughed. It was a low, throaty sound. "He feels guilty. He knows he's the reason she's a target. Men get sentimental about their mistakes." .
"You think he's gonna cut her loose?"
"He already has," Deb said. "He just hasn't told her yet. He's spending his nights at the Super 8 with me, Pam. Not her. He's done with the appetizer. He's moved on to the steak.".
Kyle stopped chewing. His blood ran cold.
The Super 8.
"Room 212," Deb continued, her voice dropping to a brag. "King size bed. Terrible pillows. But we didn't do much sleeping." .
Pam cackled. "You're gonna kill him, Deb."
"He likes it," Deb said. "He likes the fight. Misty... she just lays there and waits to be petted. Jax is a wolf, Pam. Wolves don't mate with sheep. They eat them.".
The door hissed shut.
Kyle sat there in the semi-darkness, his heart hammering. It wasn't just rumors anymore. Jax was sleeping with Deb. He was playing both of them.
Kyle started his forklift. He wasn't just a material handler anymore. He was a messenger. And he had a bomb to deliver .
He drove to Line 4.
Misty was there. She had come back from the locker room, her eyes puffy, trying to look busy wiping down her silent, red-tagged machine .
"Hey," Kyle said, parking the lift.
Misty flinched. "Kyle. I can't talk. I'm on probation.".
"Forget probation," Kyle said, hopping off the lift. "I need to tell you something. I heard them. Deb and Pam." .
Misty stiffened. "What did they say? Did they say something about the parts bin?"
"They laughed about it," Kyle said. "But that's not... Misty, they talked about Jax.".
"I don't care."
"Yes, you do." Kyle reached out and touched her arm. "He's playing you, Misty. He's making you look stupid." .
"He's going through a lot," Misty defended automatically. "He's separated. He's confused.".
"He's not confused," Kyle spat. "He's at the Super 8. Room 212.".
Misty froze. "What?"
"That's where he's staying. And he's not alone. Deb is there with him.".
Misty shook her head. "No. That's a lie. Deb hates him."
"It's an act," Kyle urged. "I heard her, Misty. She bragged about it. She said... she said he's done with the 'appetizer' and moved on to the 'steak.'".
Misty felt the blood drain from her face. The world tilted on its axis.
The appetizer.
She remembered asking Jax about his room, and how he had panicked. It all clicked. Jax wasn't ducking her because he was sad about his wife. He was ducking her because he was busy with her .
"He wouldn't," Misty whispered, tears welling up. "He told me... in the Parts Room... he told me I was beautiful." .
"He lied," Kyle said, his voice breaking. "He's using you for an ego boost, Misty. And he's sleeping with her." .
Misty stood there, trembling. The sadness that had been weighing her down for twenty-four hours began to shift. It hardened. It turned hot .
"Room 212?" she asked, her voice deadly quiet.
"Yeah," Kyle nodded. "Are you... are you okay?"
Misty wiped her face with her sleeve. She didn't look sad anymore. She looked dangerous.
"I'm fine, Kyle," she said. She grabbed her gloves and threw them onto the metal table with a slap .
"Where are you going?" Kyle asked, panicked.
"I'm not going to do anything crazy," Misty said, walking past him. "I'm just going to ask a question.".
***
Barb and Tammy were on their afternoon break, sharing a bag of pretzels.
"It's quiet today," Tammy noted.
"Too quiet," Barb agreed. "Like the birds stop singing before a storm.".
"Did you see Misty?" Tammy asked. "She was talking to Kyle. She looked... intense."
"Intense?" Barb laughed. "She looked like she was about to commit a felony.".
"Where's Jax?"
"Hiding," Barb said. "He thinks if he keeps moving, the target on his back is harder to hit."
"Is it?"
"Not when the shooter is standing right behind you," Barb said. She pointed toward the hallway where Misty had just disappeared. "Misty is heading for the Compressor Room. And she isn't bringing brownies this time." .
Barb checked her watch.
"I bet you five dollars Jax doesn't make it to his truck without bleeding.".