Free Breaking Through the Waves by E. L. Todd, Kris Kendall Page B

sighed. “I don’t deserve you.”
    Henry didn’t comment o n their affectionate words. They walked across the campus until they reached the parking lot. Both men walked her directly to her car. When they saw her Jeep in the parking lot, they all stopped.
    Sydney dropped her bag when she looked at her car. Mustard was smeared everywhere, spelling out “whore” and “nasty cunt.” She wiped the mustard away but it was too late. It already stained the paint. She moved to the seats and saw that more of the yellow liquid was sprayed all over her seats. Everything was demolished—ruined. She kept her tears in the back of her throat. “This was my dad’s.”
    Coen covered his face and sighed. “Fuck.”
    Henry placed his hand on her shoulder but said nothing.
    She stared at the car, one of the few things she had left of her father, and felt a tear roll down her cheek.

7
     
    The Jeep wouldn’t start, so Coen popped the engine with Henry and looked inside. Sydney sat against the tire and clutched her stomach, depressed that her car was completely destroyed. It was vandalized and now it didn’t even work. Even if it did start, she couldn’t drive around town with such obscene words painted on the surface. She wished she could call the police and report the damages but it was pointless. She had no proof that Audrey was the culprit and her insurance payment would increase because of the incident. It wasn’t worth it. She would have to strip it for parts and save some money to buy a car.
    “I think they squirted mustard in the oil container,” Coen said as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.
    “Let me see,” Henry said. He peered inside. “Probably.”
    “We need to get this back to the shack so no one sees it. I’ll tow it with my truck. Help me with the cables.”
    “Yeah,” Henry said as he followed him.
    They hooked up the cables then helped Sydney into the passenger seat. She was too depressed to care about anything. On the ride home, Coen said nothing. His arm was hooked around her shoulder but she didn’t feel it. She tried to think of other things to distract her mind from reality. How much would a new car cost? She knew Henry and Coen would give her rides whenever she needed them, but she hated asking for help.
    When they pulled in the driveway, she left the car and walked into the house. She showered to get the mustard and syrup off her body then climbed into bed, too upset to stand outside and watch them discuss what to do with her useless vehicle.
    Coen came in a moment later. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”
    “It’s not your fault,” she said quietly.
    “Yes, it is. You don’t deserve this. Maybe we should—”
    “Don’t even think it, Coen.”
    He sighed. “I’ll fix your car. My dad taught me a lot about mechanics when I was younger.”
    “Don’t bother. I wouldn’t be able to drive it anyway.”
    “We’ll figure it out.”
    “No. I don’t want to drive it.”
    He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you when you wake up.”
    “Where are you going?”
    “To work on your car.”
    “It’s pointless.”
    “Close your eyes and relax.”

She did as he asked and tried to think of different things. She felt the bed move as he stood up and left her bedroom. When she thought about letting her father down a second time, it made her want to cry. Instead, she thought about the seahorses she found in the ocean. One was yellow with spots of green and the other was brown with flecks of white. They looked so different but they were so beautiful—especially together. Her mind fell into the abyss as she thought about the magnificent creatures.
    The sound of talking drifted through her window and woke her up. When she looked at the clock, she was surprised how late it was. She had been out for a long time. She got dressed then went outside.
    The sides of her Jeep were missing and the engine was popped up. Coen had his sleeves rolled up and his arms were