He was a greedy son of a bitch, he was spending his days moving players like chess pieces, and I didn’t appreciate being a pawn. He only cared about the issues of today, kicking problems down the road.
“Only this time, I’m behind bars.”
“You said so yourself. It hasn’t stopped you from conducting official business.”
“Listen to me Harrison, you’ve got people on your tail—”
“It’s all bullshit James.”
“Trust me, I know. Watch your back, I’ll be in touch.” He warned and the line went dead.
I had a hunch there was something, or someone creeping up behind me. I thought I was acting paranoid, acting just a little crazy, excessively suspicious without justification, but maybe I was right all along. It wasn’t just a coincidence; my enemies were plotting against me.
My past was catching up to me. I got caught up in something I thought I’d left behind. I’d become involved in a scandal, making promises I couldn’t fulfill, so focused on prestige and accomplishment I was unaware of the consequences of failing.
I was so distracted by my plan that I was oblivious to other things, my attention so preoccupied I was ignoring the dangerous threats surrounding me. People who held power, people who didn’t forget, people who’d want vengeance. I’d be more diligent moving toward.
My plan was hatching, my beautiful, crafty plan was coming to fruition. The opportunity so sweet and mischievous it would be a superior triumph. Yet so subtle so elusive, I’d be casting a spell undetected. In Austin the balance of control would return back into the hands of its creator.
It was still dark when I walked into the gym. Today was one of those days; pain throbbed around my skull in a blinding pulse overwhelming me. I swallowed two more Tylenol and made my way to the office only to hear the pounding beat spilling out loudly.
“You must have it bad, if you’re listening to pop music.” I said dryly. “Could you turn if off please?
I was becoming a little unglued as a vein popped out in my neck. Solemnly, with long strides I took my seat at my desk dropping my leather backpack on my desk and let out a long sigh.
Clayton rolled his eyes, pressing the off button. “There, better?”
“Much.”
“What’s wrong with you? Did Bryer leave today?”
“Don’t remind me.”
Sometimes it felt as though I was moving through life as if I had no choices, no control. Instead of living life to its full potential I’d spent valuable time and attention in other areas, solving problems, pursuing tasks created by others. Experiencing too much distraction, I was unable to think clearly, overwhelmed over problem after problem.
“Lay it on me.” He asked, as if he knew the brave turbulent front I was hiding behind.
“I don’t think so.”
“Fine. But let me ask you something.”
“Is that really necessary?
I felt the third degree coming. I didn’t feel up to being grilled or interrogated. I felt guarded, not willing to share the latest personal information so freely. I’d like to think that I’m pretty easy going, and gets along with most everyone. The downside of being that guy is when I wanted to be very focused, tight lipped it came across as an introvert.
“I’m serious, Nathan.”
He was nosy, not that he could help it, chatty Cathy talked too much and was interested in other people’s life to a point of being annoying.
“Fine.” I sighed and told him about my conversation at the attorney’s office.
“Wow, what a sleaze bag.”
“I’ll be sure to pass on that sentiment.” I smirked. “Enough about me.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the hesitation, he shifted slightly. That got his attention. There was only so much he could take, as we stared at each other waiting.
“Well?” I asked. “Sounds like you’re falling for her.”
“It’s not the fall that kills you, it’s the sudden stop at the end.”
Smart ass.
But that was part of his charm. For all his casualness, he’d only make a self-deprecating joke to ease the tension but I saw the conflict in his eyes. I learned long ago Clayton did what he wanted when he wanted. He often avoided talking about his feelings at all cost. I get it, we’re men.
“One question.” I asked.
“Save your breath.”
“Fine, then you’ll never get what you want. And someone new, who is capable of saying the words can have your happily ever after.”
“I don’t know what she wants, we spend a lot of time talking about nothing. We don’t mention feelings or the future or label what’s happening.”
“Sounds like a match made in heaven.”
“I just don’t know anymore.”
Because life was never simple, the foundation of his future rest in his own hands. And inside grew a seed of worry, powerless to have the one person he wanted to share more than a physical connection with. He wanted more; he just couldn’t articulate his feelings.
“Clayton, a real man doesn’t love a million women, he loves one woman a million ways.”
“Dr. Phil again?”
“Fine. Let’s grab dinner after work.”
Powerful outside lighting lit up the area as we stepped outside. Clayton fell in step next to me as we crossed a long stretch of pavement heading towards my car. A sliver of moon light bathed the lifeless sky.
When suddenly the sound of approaching footsteps echoed around me, someone came barreling out of nowhere and slammed into me with so much force the blow knocked me off balance, then he tore around and pushed past me. Every passing second was played out in slow motion.
“Watch it.” Clayton shouted then dashed over to help but it was too late.
By the time I realized what was happening, he had my backpack and took off in the opposite direction. My heart all but stopped as if my mind was playing tricks on me, so much, I didn’t even see it coming.
“Wait.” I yelled. “Hold on.”
“Holy shit, he stole your backpack. Did you get a good look at him?”
My eyes slid to his, thinking, trying to recall, but only coming up blank. Snatch, dash and distracted. The fucker was fast and smooth, he was far from an amateur, he was experienced and calculating.
My eyes darted from side to side and my brows furrowed in frustration. “He had on a black hoodie.”
“This was not their first time; he was too fast.”
“I didn’t even have time to fight back, shit.”
“What was in your backpack?”
“Files mostly, my keys, phone and wallet are in my pockets, but the lawyer’s paperwork, and some documents for M& M were among the files.”
Christ, like so many people I just became a statistic, a stranger jumped out and grabbed my pack right out of my hands. My adrenaline addled brain did everything wrong- I just stood there and let him take it. I didn’t consciously decide to go after him. I only watched him take it and dart across the parking and disappear behind a building.
So much for being alert to my surroundings, that was mistake number one. I guess I was lucky, for several reasons, he didn’t have a weapon, and no one got hurt. But the experience left me rattled, looking for answers.
“Should we call the cops?”
“No, I have a better idea.” Clutching my phone, I dialed Steel’s number. “We’ve got trouble.”
“What kind of trouble.”
“I just got mugged.”
“Go on.”
“Can you meet us at a bar called ‘On the Rocks’?” I asked. “I’ll fill you in there.”
“I’m on my way.”
Entering the dimly lit bar, I couldn’t help but wonder how many victims the man had confronted, as the image filled my head with contempt. We passed a long wooden bar. Couples sat on barstools; TV screens flicker mounted on the wall as a different sport played on each monitor. Weaving between tables Clayton chose a booth in the corner.
The waitress approached and smiled. “What’ll you have?”
“Two Coronas, please.”
She returned and I grabbed my beer and popped the top.
It was clear to me that we live within a city that continues to be harsh, while we weren’t often confronted by this stark reality the threat was very real. He wanted my stuff, he wasn’t trying to hurt me, or maybe I gave him no reason to try, that could have fueled the situation to another level.
Then in walked Steel and raised a hand in greeting, he faked a smile in recognition and slowly made his way to our table.
“Have a seat, man.” I said as his smile faded. “Can I get you anything?”
“No. Tell me what happened.” He frowned as anger clouded his features.
And the story of the night began to unfold. “I was robbed because a thug thought he could get an easy payday and saw me as an easy target, prey. I’m fine. It’s just that you never think it’ll happen to you, you know? Lucky they only got business files, that can be replaced.”
“Interesting, don’t you think?”
“Why do you say that?
“Crimes against a person are inexcusable, a criminal who purposely places anther human in a foreseeable position of harm is a bad person who should be tarred, feathered and thrown in prison. But trust me when I say, this wasn’t random, it all makes perfect sense. Someone was behind this mugging and I think that person was your father.”
“Wha-- What makes think that?”
“Wild guess.” His expression hardened. “No weapon, he didn’t hurt you, and he got what he was after, your paper work.”
“No sane person—"
“Exactly. Despite what you think he’s not some helpless piece of driftwood tossed by waves of circumstance onto rocky shores of reality. He’s a convicted felon, a murderer.”
“He’s spot on Nathan.”
They were right, the cold hard truth was his approval came with conditions. My so-called father, was constantly trying to control others, always trying to influence other people to get what he wanted. Breaking rules and hurting others because they didn’t do what he wanted. He was a spiteful, unpredictable man seeking revenge and never thinking of his manipulating actions or consequences.
“This isn’t about unfairly judging someone.” Steel said his forehead creased. “This is about putting the facts together because they’ve proved to be a criminal, it’s not a far leap committing a robbery. The question is, what did he want so badly, to resort to using his own son as a tool of coercion.”
“I agree, and I have an appointment tomorrow with M&M concerning the patents and now that file is gone.”
“It’s high time we put a stop to this, conditions are in play that enable his activity even behind bars.”
Even from a prison cell he dictated from his ivory tower absent of any moral fiber. I was clueless, knocking back stupid pills thinking he couldn’t touch me because he was incarcerated.
“Listen, I’ll be monitoring the situation.” Steel said, then stood and jerked his thumb towards the door. “I’ve got to go.” And with that he was gone.
Leaving me with regret. A silent rageful scream that paralyzed my thinking went off like a grenade in my head, reliving the attack wishing my instinct told me to fight back, attack, obliterated until there was nothing left.
The word indifference had been ringing in my ears after two hours of dead silence as Cash and I sat in first class. He had yet to utter one word, and the quiet was consuming me. The silent treatment usually meant the person who was dishing it out wanted attention, power, or control over the situation, often had narcissistic tendencies, argued often, or tried to be heard or defend his self-absorbed actions. Classic Cash.
He stared at me silently, as if debating whether to speak or continue to ignore me. I gazed out the window and exhaled in frustration. I didn’t know what game he was playing but there was always a game when it came to Cash.
“You’re wall of silence is deadly Cash. I’m still confused why the hell I’m here?”
“I don’t recall you being such a potty-mouth, Bryer. I told you, business.” He said, giving me that knowing look, but it still wasn’t a valid form of defense.
“That just shows you how well you know me, and that’s a bullshit answer and you know it.”
He stared at me for a moment then smiled. As if everything was acceptable with all things, including us.
“It’s all fine.”
“Uh huh.”
“Bryer, when a man says they’re fine, they actually mean it.”
I pretended not to notice his absurdity and looked the other way acting stone cold. Finally, we touched down after the controller gave the pilot clearance to land. We remained in our seats as the plane exited towards the taxiway. Within minutes we were at the terminal gate and crossed the airport towards the exit.
My face turned towards the sun as it warmed and drifted over my skin. Austin’s subtropical humid climate was warm for this time of year. I watched Cash as he lifted his chin and closed his eyes.
“Remember that?”
I did remember. But I could also read him like an open book and today wasn’t a day we were taking a trip down memory lane. And once the limo pulled up there was absolutely no turning back now.
Downtown Austin was located in the central business district on the north bank off the Colorado River. It’s where the high-rise of our legal firm still resided. As well as being the center of government and business for the region. Much had changed currently due to the building boom downtown, although much of the original design was still intact.
The limo was just pulling to a stop when we passed the Republic square, and I knew I was home. The double doors opened and we walked across the floor while weaving through corporate America their noses buried in their phones. The elevator doors opened and we stepped inside.
The familiar scent of coffee and waxed hardwood filled the air as memories flooded in quietly and I was catapulted back in time. I noticed every familiar detail, the only clue to my past, the only sign of my history, I wanted to forget.
I reminded myself I was being silly, however until the day everything that happened to this point was a prequel to what had brought me back. And as memories flooded my mind this was a chapter I had closed for a reason. I told myself I would never open that book again, yet here I was, slowly, calmly opening the first volume.
The door flew open and I came to a stop.
“Mrs. Ferguson?” I watched as recognition dawned on her face, she stood and spread her arms out wide. “You’re still here?
“Oh my gosh, look who it is, Bryer.”
And walked into her waiting arms. “It’s been forever.”
“Years, my dear.”
The passage of time was not a good reason to let such a connection go to waste. This woman meant so much to me and now I was feeling just a little guilty reconnecting when I needed something. But the exchange was anything but awkward.
“Thank you for helping us on such short notice, Mrs. Ferguson,” Cash said then stuffed his hands into his front pockets, sincerity brewing in his eyes. “Shall we work in the conference room?”
My eyes held his as a big cheesy grin spread across his face. Cash was a contradiction as I was seeing him in a whole new light.
“Cash still as handsome as ever.” She said then pressed her hands on his cheeks. “Yes, that’s where I have us set up, and call me Dottie.”
“It’s good to see you too.”
We inched leisurely down the hall towards the door located at the end of the corridor. We stepped into the meeting room I moved around, lost in memories. Looking out the window on the world. A few large clouds lingered in the pale, washed out blue sky. The roads were congested yet cars raced by for a couple of blocks until they disappeared from sight. The few scraggly trees struggled for light and space in a city where concrete and steel dominated the bleak landscape.
As I took my seat, I noticed sitting on the right of me, Mrs. F
erguson’s stamp and book ready to be notarized, and witnessed.
Cash with his dramatic flair pulled out a folder with a dozen files from his monogrammed croc attaché case, and set it between us, with all the details to work through.
“Bryer, you’re welcome to go over the paperwork, but you personally have read docs like these a thousand times.” Cash instructed sliding the first file in front of me.
“What’s Henry up to these days?”
I reviewed a release of property; I’d seen these forms too many times to count. I skimmed over the first pages, but there was a beat of hesitation from Dottie, and I sensed it.
“I lost my husband Henry several months back, cancer dear.” My heart sank, I wanted to reassure her time would help, but I knew those were empty words. I opened the file and saw the yellow arrow noting where to sign. “We almost made it to twenty-five years, dear.” And when she spoke her brave mask revealed the hurt lurking beneath the surface.
“I’m so sorry.”
Cash scratched the back of his head. “My deepest condolences, Dottie. We’ll be out of your way quickly.” And continued to feed paperwork sheet after sheet. I signed and Mrs. Ferguson notarized.
“I’m actually surprised to see your still working here?”
“It fills the void after losing my husband, Bryer, it gives me purpose.”
Her reasoning made sense; the same woman was still in there. But why did I get the feeling it wasn’t working. Grief with its infinite range of emotions, loss or change of any kind is a devastating end to what had been familiar. By keeping her job, it remained a part of her story.
“Or maybe you want to seem tougher than you really are.”
She lowered her head and covered her eyes with her palm, and when she dropped her hand her eyes were wet. I offered a reassuring smile, but I knew it would never be enough. I knew the tremendous sadness she was experiencing.
“I’m sorry.” She said, then cleared her throat. “Coffee anyone?”
“Not for me.”
“No thank you. We can do this another time, if...” Cash suggested.
“No, this is my job. I’m happy to help. Just ignore me.”
Forgotten Chance: Book Three (Forgotten Trilogy) Page 10
