Too Afraid

Jared scowls and squints his eyes against the sunlight, turning his head away from it, and away from Grace again, still refusing to look at her. 

"Apparently you haven't understood a word I've said to you," he growls. "You've got a great outlook on life and people, but it takes more than outlook to make a good person out of something as rotten as me." It hadn't been until the other day when he'd suddenly felt something more than friendship that his fear had begun to grow. It hadn't been until he'd realized he cared for Grace that he had become afraid of hurting her. 

"You keep saying you haven't given up and all that, but I have." Even so, in the very depths of his heart, a small flame of hope still flickered. He was simply too afraid of failing and hurting someone he cared about. "You can't change a leopard's spots. So there's really no point in sticking around and living on empty belief." 

This time as Clay headed across the Elite main floor, he wasn't full of cuts and bruises. But one look at his face would give away that something wasn't right. With tightened jaw, he ignores anybody looking at him, and aims straight for the hallway and the infirmary. Reaching his destination, he enters without knocking.

Standing at the counter working, Rick looks up, startled at the sudden intrusion. His eyebrows rise at seeing his nephew. "Clay... You're not due to get those stitches out for another few days."

"Aw, hang the stitches," Clay growls. "That's the least of my worries."

"What's wrong?"

"My life, that's what." Pacing in an agitated circle, Clay doesn't even realize Misty is at her desk. "What's the point of anything anymore? I do something right and all I get for it is punishment! And there's nothing anybody can do, so I'm just screwed without anybody caring about it!"

By now, Rick had abandoned his work and was quite confused. "Just calm down and tell me what happened."

"After I went home from here, I had two days of peace and quiet." He gestures with two fingers. "Just two! Then I go home from work to find my whole place ransacked. Everything was torn to bits like a tornado went through with a chainsaw. Cops couldn't find any evidence - no leads, no nothing! Even though I knew it was the same guys who bushwhacked me, they said they couldn't do anything 'cause I had no proof." He throws his hands up in the air. "Didn't have renter's insurance, so I'm out everything. Oh, and I took too long trying to clean up and got to work an hour late to find I'd been fired." He nods angrily. "Yeah, they've been wanting to get rid of me just 'cause I stand up for myself and don't take no crap from goons that like to take off with potato chips and candy bars. They'd rather take the loss in inventory than get those guys mad at 'em. So they said I'd been late three times this past month and that was cause enough to get fired. I had a legit reason each time and it hadn't bothered 'em before this, of course."

Rick sighs deeply and shakes his head. "I'm sorry. Sometimes things-"

"They stole my bows." Clay grits his teeth and moves to the counter to slam his fist down, accompanied by a curse. "The only possessions I really cared about, and they had to take them."

Rick's shoulders drop in disappointment. He knew how much Clay's bows meant to him. Archery was really the only activity he took interest in, and he was so very good at it. The bows had been very expensive and Rick knew his nephew had to have scrimped and saved to purchase them in the first place. "Maybe the police can-"

"Aw they're long gone by now." Clay had regained a little bit of control. "I'm sure they got sold and who knows where they're at by now. No... those bows are gone." He shrugs. "I'm angrier about that than I am losing my job." He scoffs. "Yeah, here I am, jobless again, I'm gonna lose my apartment 'cause I can't pay for it, and I've hardly got a set of clothes left worth wearing."

"I want to help you, Clay. May I?"

Leaning on the counter, Clay's eyes roam the bottles and vials. "That's the only reason I came," he admits. "You know how much I hate asking for help but... I didn't have anybody else to turn to." He glances over his shoulder at Rick before shaking his head. "I called Dad first, ya know."

"And?"

"He said that I got myself into this mess, I should be a man and get myself out."

Rick rolls his eyes. He could strangle his brother. "Did you drive yourself up here?"

"Yeah. At least I still got my car - for what it's worth. It's on its way out too."

"Your stuff still at your apartment?"

Clay shakes his head. "All that's... in my car. There wasn't much left that wasn't smashed or shredded. My table survived but that wasn't worth much to begin with."

"Okay. Well, I got a few hours left to work here, then after that you can come home with me and we'll figure something out, okay?"

Clay really did hate asking for help like this, but he didn't have much choice at this point, unless he wanted to go sleep in his car somewhere."Yeah... alright."

"Good. Now why don't you just sit down over there and take a breather. I've still got a lot to catch up on before I can leave today."

Clay just nods and aims for an empty chair to flop into. Only then does he spy Misty, to whom he throws a sidelong glance. "You know, we really gotta stop meeting this way - me in trouble, that is. It's not very good for my image."

"Yeah, well..." Clint shrugs. "Nothing much to do now but move on, I guess, and hope Dad gets his head out of his butt. I know you'd like Chad if you met him, but if he shows up here again, I'd hate to see what would happen." 

He tosses a wrench into a nearby toolbox. "He's from Nevada I guess, but travels a lot as a marine biologist. He and a couple others showed up a while back to vacation - apparently one of them was good friends with Katie. Anyway, Chad and Rosalyn hit it off big time and kept in touch. Rosalyn said he's on a break right now and that's why he came this time. He was staying here, but after a fiasco with Dad, he went to stay at a hotel in town instead. Which..." He gestures with his hands. "...full circle, means I took Rosalyn in to see him, Dad found out and... the rest you know."

Turning around, he leans back on the tool bench and folds his arms across his chest. Studying his uncle for a few moments, he manages a small smile. "But that's too much of a downer for a guy who's just returned from the dead."

He goes to shut the hood on the truck. "You gonna enjoy life a while, or jump right back into work, or...?"