I stare at him for another moment not saying anything.
“Oh for chrissake Kent she didn’t know, not really.”
“She should’ve come to me,” I snap.
“And said what? Hi I think my dad is selling drugs again. Please don’t arrest him,” Noah mocks throwing a derisive look at me. “Like she could have said any such a thing. Like you would have listened to her. You would look at her just like you’re looking at me now. You’ve always had such a fucking God complex Kent,” he snarls at me. “I don’t know why you think you’re so fucking special. You’re no different than the rest of us. So get your head out of your ass and listen to what the fuck I’m telling you!” he argues, his voice raising higher. I see that flash in his eyes. The warning of danger that every drug lord needs to keep the respect of the people under his command.
“How were you able to move the drugs?” I ask ignoring his insults and rage knowing that it will only infuriates him more.
He sits quietly for a moment and I can all but see the steam spewing from his ears.
“Granola,” he says. “My father hypothetically had quite a large shipment of heroin he needed to be moved in a way that wouldn’t raise suspicion. So I stored it in boxes of granola and had it sent to Annie’s convenience store where Lucy works.”
“Did Annie know anything about this?” I ask.
“No,” he shakes his head. “Annie did not know that there were drugs in the granola. All she knew was it I had a long-time friend who she’s had a soft spot for I was in a tight spot, and somehow ended up with twenty pounds of granola.”
“Twenty pounds? Are you fucking telling me there are another twenty pounds of heroin in this town right under my nose?” I roar.
“Allegedly,” Noah smirks. He’s obviously proud of himself, which does nothing to convince me that he’s truly reformed.
“Continue,” I grit out.
“Allegedly twenty pounds of heroin was stored in granola and sent to Annie’s convenience store. I told her that a buddy of mine had ordered them in bulk by accident and was looking to re-distribute them. For every sale of the item she would get twenty-five-percent on top of the shelf price. So there was a large shipment that needed to be sold. Annie told Lucy to store the granola in the back because there was too much of it out on the storefront shelves.”
“You were just going to sell heroin from the shelves in a convenience store?” I ask a little dumbfounded at the boldness of it all.
“Hypothetically it wasn’t the worst idea in the world, simply because he would never see it coming,” he says. “Also it was in this ridiculous flavor. But no one likes apple cinnamon and pumpkin spice in the summer.
I nod my head remembering how Lucy had talked about it being a strange option.
“But don’t worry, it wasn’t going to be all available for long. We stored it with the immediate intention of hypothetically, the new buyers slipping in and buying the granola in bulk off Annie’s hands. Annie has no idea that there is heroin, and suddenly she makes even more profit so she’s happy. Lucy is called in for time and a half work because there’s a lot of boxes and gets paid overtime. Everyone is happy, my dad’s off my back, and I no longer worry about the safety of my children.”
“Wow,” I say shaking my head in shock.
“Kenton, listen to me. If a man came to you, a man that you knew was insane, and he told you that if you did not do exactly what he said, or he would hurt Charlie. What would you do? Don’t tell me you’d go to the police because you are the police and you have absolutely no ability to help.
Even though this is all hypothetical, I definitely have enough information. And if I truly wanted to, I could track it all down and hang him. But I believe under all the bullshit is a man who truly cares about his daughter. The daughter that I happen to be in love with.
“Okay, so let me get this straight. In summary, you weren’t involved in drugs, you actually were becoming clean from the industry, your dad showed up, demanded money or help, it’s easier to help him and you believe that he will leave your family alone and not murder your children. So everything went to plan, the drop happened, and the granola was sold to an anonymous buyer. So why is Lucy still in danger?” I ask wondering how all the pieces finally fit together.
“My father wants more money, and I won’t give it to him. I want my children safe, but I also don’t want to be under his thumb forever. Lucy helped me see that my solution will not work in the long run, and walking away isn’t an option, call it pride. I thought that I would be able to get ahead of it all but I wasn’t able to and now he wants more money. I’m done with drugs, so I’ve hidden my children somewhere safe, and I’m coming to you, asking for help to catch the real bad guy. The one who will not hesitate to murder the young woman we both love.”
That hits home for me. I watch him over my cup of coffee. He’s a smug bastard, but I honestly believe he is telling the truth. Making my decision I nod my head for him to continue.
“In exchange for all this information, and my help in catching a major drug lord who flew in from Vegas, you’ll agree not to press charges against my daughter. This is not the life you want for her, and if you send us to prison, you will lose the best thing that ever happened to you. My daughter.
I stand there for a moment contemplating his words.
“Okay I agree. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I believe you and I both want Lucy safe, no matter what the cost.”
“Good,” he says rising from the chair. “Let’s go arrest the son of a bitch that calls himself my father.
Grinning at him now, I shake my head. “You know Lucy‘s a lot like you?”
“Yeah, I know she is. It can make things a little difficult in relationships,” he says with a quick shrug, “but be patient with her,” he says.
The next thing I know, I feel like I’m getting hit by a truck.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I shout from the ground, looking up at him. My jaw is aching, and my vision is a little blurry around the edges. “You son of a bitch,” I snarl up at him, “You just hit the chief of police of Oak Valley, Wyoming.”
I shake my head back-and-forth trying to force my vision to clear.
“You’re not the chief of police right now,” he says, towering over me, his face hard. “Right now, you’re the bastard that’s sleeping with my baby girl.”
“Well, that’s something I can at least understand. I would punch you in the face too if you were sleeping with my Charlie. You realize your baby girl is a grown woman now, right?” I say as I look up at him from the ground clenching my jaw that will most likely bruise in the morning.
“Baby girl or grown woman, she will always be my baby girl,” he says shaking his head seriously. “Kent how much older are you then my kid?” he snaps. “You're what like twenty years her senior. You can’t find someone else your own age?” he whines knowing that he has no real say in this as Lucy is an adult and I do genuinely love her.
“No woman alive or dead has ever been like your daughter,” I say honestly, looking up at him. Rising up from the floor, I face him and square my shoulders.
“Believe me when I tell you, I never expected this to happen between us, and I want you to know she is the most incredible woman in the world, and if I break her heart, you’re gonna have to kick my ass after I do it because I know exactly what kind of person I have in my life.
“Well that’s one hell of a speech,” he says looking me up and down. “At least I know if she gets pregnant like her mother you’ll be able to provide for her,” he says shaking his head and walking away.
Well that’s one way of looking at it’s I guess. I bend over and pick my jacket up off the ground and follow him out into the parking lot.
Chapter Fourteen
LUCY
I’m rocking back-and-forth on the sofa at Abbie’s fiancé’s home, I can’t help it. I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. Why is it taking so long for dad to contact us? It shouldn’t t
ake this long.
Rising from the floor and walking to the window I look out at a beautiful landscape. It’s dark, but I can still appreciate the way the moonlight shines down on the grass below. I have the sudden urge to run though. Run from what? Run to where? I can’t decide, all I know is that I can’t wait any longer, and the more I try, the more suffocating it is for me
Suddenly my phone rings, jerking my attention away from my compulsive desire to run from my anxiety. It’s my father.
“Hello?” I answer, my voice shaking.
“Hey, Lucy, just wanted you to know that everything‘s okay. I handled the issue. You don’t have to worry about anything anymore.” The words hang in the air for a moment.
“What exactly does that mean?” I ask, suspicious of what my father means by handling things. His way of handling things isn’t always considered a legal way, his buddy Jake comes to mind.
“Well after I sent you away, I went to go talk to your boy toy, and we had a long talk about everything. I asked him to grant me leniency in this area because I gave him the information for your grandfather who may or may not have smuggled twenty pounds of heroin through Annie’s convenience store using the granola.”
“Oh my God, Dad. No! You’re joking, right?” I ask closing my eyes.
Why can’t I have a normal family? Why does everything have to be so complicated? Normal people don’t have to worry about their dad calling them for drug drop-offs or anything about crazy grandparents.
“I know I put you through a lot,'' he says, “so I just wanted to thank you for helping me out, I love you Lucy.”
“I love you too, Dad.” Pacing back and forth in the living room, resting my palm against my forehead, I feel an intense sense of relief.
“You can come home now. It's safe.”
“Thanks, Dad, I guess I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you this weekend for dinner with Abbie. Talk to you later, bye.” He finishes and hangs up the phone.
Was everything really resolved? Was there even the slightest chance that I would be able to go back to my normal life? How can I go back to my boyfriend and try to fix this? There were so many lies, so much deception at the beginning of this new relationship, it makes me wonder if we put too much pressure on us too soon. I didn’t mean to, of course. I just love him. Why does it have to matter when I fell in love with him, or when he fell in love with me? Can’t we simply enjoy all the feelings we have without having to second guess and wonder if they are right?
The day is so long. It’s crazy to think that we started the morning snuggled in my bed, telling each other how much we love each other. Now it feels as if a lifetime has passed between us. It all feels so surreal. Life moves so quickly it’s hard to keep up at times, and the way it fluctuates on a day such as today, it’s almost too much to comprehend.
I need to talk to him. I should at least try, right?
Kissing Abbie goodbye on the cheek and waving to my future brother-in-law, I climb into my car and drive home. I’m emotionally exhausted, I don’t really know what to expect when I get back. Just because I’m not going to prison doesn’t mean Kenton can ever forgive me for everything that I have put him through. I know I should trust him, but I am afraid of his reaction. Especially because he doesn’t like my dad. Everything just happened wrong I think, shaking my head as I continue onto the interstate. I need to find him. To make him understand I love him so much I don’t know that I could bear to lose him over this.
Arriving home, I park my car in my little driveway and sit and look at the dark and empty house. I don’t want go in there. I don’t want to sit in the room where he made love to me and know that he isn’t there now, and he may not come back. I will just have to go to him. I doubt he’s home. He doesn’t want to sit at home alone either.
Looking around the car, I imagine where he may be right now. He needs space, trees, and earth to unwind. It’s something I can appreciate about him and something we have in common. I run to relieve stress, Kenton fishes. So, I will run to where he loves to fish.
Walking inside. I go to the room we shared last, and stare at the bed where we lay together. It seems less welcoming now, and I know that if he turns me away, I will never be able to sleep in that bed again. Swallowing hard, I turn away. I need to get a move on, I might as well jog to the lake, it will help me clear my head properly.
What if he doesn’t want to talk to me? The very thought brings tears to my tired eyes. We need to be able to reconcile our differences. We really are better together and I have to make him see this. I know he can be hard-headed, but if I have to sit on him to make him listen, then that’s what I will do, I decide, walking to the closet and pulling out my running shorts and my favorite hot pink tank. It’s my cutest running gear I have, and if I’m going to get his full attention, and make him see reason, then I will need every weapon I have.
Crossing to the bathroom, I grab a hair tie and throw my hair up in a long ponytail that cascades down my back.
“Everything will be okay,” I tell myself. I have to believe this because the alternative is death of the heart. I can’t go on living in a world where Kenton doesn’t want me. I don’t know what that could mean for me, I don’t want to be so dramatic as to say it would kill me. Though we all know the phrase, “die of a broken heart,” so who knows, it could be possible.
Walking out the door, I lock the deadbolt and stretch my long legs and begin to run. I run hard and fast, crossing the street and heading into the woods. The branches snap under my feet as I jog deeper into the darkness, closer to the place where I know he will be.
My breath comes out in short even bursts as my well-trained lungs easily maintain a steady pace. Running is easy, talking is hard. I never know how to express myself well, and now, more than ever, I need the words.
A few more feet pass and I can see the low light of a lantern in the distance, and my eyes confirm what my heart already knows. How did I know? I can’t say for sure, it’s just something I feel in my gut. Slowing to a jog, then to a complete stop, I see him just through the brush.
Look at him, I think, he looks so sad, so handsome there in the dark.
He’s all alone, sitting, like the first time I came to him. Except this time, he doesn’t have his fishing gear, he merely sits and looks out at the lake, watching as the moon reflects in the water that ripples under the light summer breeze. It would be a lovely painting, though a sad one, as I feel the echoes of loneliness push into me, almost shunning me from the man I love.
“Kenton,” I call, my voice ringing hollow in the air.
He doesn’t move, he just sits still, as if I don’t exist.
“Kenton, please,'' I plead, stepping forward through the brush and standing next to him towering on my long legs as he continues to stare at the water.
“Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t tell you,” I sigh, swallowing hard and wondering how some people are able to find the right words. “If I could go back and do things differently I would, but I can’t,” folding my arms over my chest, hoping to comfort my broken heart.
“Funny,” he whispers, “your father said the exact same thing earlier.” His eyes stay trained on the water, not bothering to spare me a glance. The blatant disregard is like a knife to the chest, and I think I would actually prefer the blade to the emotional slap.
“Yes, well, my father and I have a lot in common,” I whisper, shrugging my shoulders, unsure if the comparison between us was meant to be an insult, or merely a statement of an observation.
“Yeah, I got that impression,” he grumbled, glancing over at me as I sit down beside him. “You look pretty, Lucy,'' he admits, his eyes scanning over my face in a way that would normally make my heart beat faster, but this time my heart does no such thing. It merely sits still, cold in my chest as I prepare for the worst.
“Kenton, before you decide to end things with me, I wanted to talk to you. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you that my father called me,” I say, glancing
at him, making sure he is listening. “When I was called into work to distribute what apparently was twenty pounds of heroin,” I say with a roll of my eyes, “I really had no idea. I thought it was disgusting granola trail mix crap. You know that gross stuff that you buy all the time when you go in.” Turning back to look at him, I feel a little more comfortable now that he is looking at me. “If I knew what it was, I don’t think I would have gone into work and helped.”
He doesn’t say anything. He just sits and looks at me. To think I found his silence and thoughtfulness sexy at one point. At this moment it is irritating and nerve wracking.
For the love of, God, say something with meaning, I think.
“I want you to know that I really wanted to tell you about my father and the drop. The night you left, I was out with Charlie as you know, and after I dropped Charlie off at home, my father called me, and I well…” I trail off raising my hands to my head, covering myself for a moment, resisting the urge to yank out my hair in frustration. “I can’t lie to you and tell you that I had no idea that they were drugs or drug money, but I think we both know that some part of me knew it was going on. I just chose to ignore it because I was scared, and I didn’t want to know the truth. I didn’t want to face the possibility of losing my father again.” I rush, the words catching in my throat as the emotions begin to flow, bringing tears to my eyes.
I wish he would say something, validate my feelings, or give me a sign that he understands why I did these things.
“Kenton,” I say, wanting to touch him, but not willing to reach out and be rejected. “Do you understand why I did what I did, even if it isn’t something you would do, or something you would approve of?” I ask, my eyes pleading.
He sits quietly, watching me, and nods his head in acknowledgement.
The Officer Page 14
