Imprisoned: An Everyday Heroes World Novel

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Imprisoned: An Everyday Heroes World Novel Page 7

by Bella Emy


  Adelyn covers her mouth with her free hand as her eyes light up.

  Her beautiful dark brown eyes. God, they’re sparkling and she’s fucking beautiful.

  Rick takes a deep breath, and as he begins speaking, I can no longer make out a single sound of it. He pops open the box and in it sits a diamond engagement ring that shimmers back in her eyes. His mouth is moving and I’m sure there’s sound coming out of it, but I can’t hear a thing. All I hear is her voice when he stops speaking and she says the words, “Yes, I will!”

  And now, I know why. Now it makes sense why I have been struggling with the realization of their relationship, and why it’s been so hard for me to grasp the thought of them getting married.

  Because as I look at Adelyn with her beautiful smile and bright eyes, I realize that I’ve been in love with her this whole entire time, and now she’s slipping away from me for good.

  Chapter Eleven

  Leaving the gym always makes me feel refreshed. I got up at five this morning and was at the gym by five forty-five. Now it’s just about seven and I’m ready to head home, shower, and then get to work by eight.

  As I reach my car, I stop dead in my tracks as I see a man leaning against it. He’s got his head facing down toward the ground. Before I can spaz out, he slowly tilts it up, plastering a smug grin on his face.

  “Well, look at what the devil brought in,” Maverick says. I’ve been back to California for six months and this is the second or third time I’m seeing the clown. He’s always out somewhere or doing something.

  Well, it’s not like I’ve made much of an effort. I haven’t stopped by the house—he still lives at home—and I haven’t stopped by the store, either. Ever since that argument with Pops, I’ve been keeping my distance.

  But I have been taking Mom out to lunch once a week on my days off to spend time with her. It’s not fair to her to stay away because my father is an asshole.

  And the store, they’re still on the verge of losing it, but any money I can spare, I’ve been giving to her, even if she’s been hesitant to take it. The first time, she almost didn’t, but somehow, I convinced her to do so.

  I shift weight from one foot to the other and take in his appearance. He’s wearing workout clothes, too, so he either just got here or is just leaving. Either way, I don’t have time to chitchat. Okay, maybe there is time to spare, but I’m not in the mood before coffee. “Mav… mind moving so I can get into my car and go home so I can get ready for work?”

  He lets out an arrogant laugh and moves off of my car. “Sorry, bro. I just got here not too long ago and saw your car parked over here. I was about to come in, but I noticed you coming out of the building, so I waited.” He takes two steps forward so I can open the door.

  I throw my bag onto the back seat. “You shouldn’t have… really.” I slam the door and then lean against my car.

  “Aww, come on, Mad.”

  A red car passes by us, looking for a spot to park, and he’s completely engrossed with the driver: a hot, blonde woman in her early twenties, probably here to take selfies instead of actually working out. He’s still the same old Maverick.

  “How’s work? How’s things going at the store?” I ask to avert his attention back to me. But it doesn’t work.

  “Maverick!”

  “Huh?” he asks, finally turning his head in my direction, but in an instant, he looks back at the girl in the car who’s now adjusting her lipstick.

  Like I said, she’s here to take selfies, not work out.

  “I was asking about the store and your job… how are things?”

  He looks back at me and takes a step back. “Oh, yeah, yeah. Things are good at both places.” His gaze turns back to the red car, with the owner of it now hopping out. “Damn,” he whispers as he continues gawking at her. In a baby pink tight T-shirt and tight black yoga pants, she’s the epitome of the type of woman Maverick goes for. Blonde, nice body, and sexy.

  I’ve always been more attracted to brunettes, but my brother definitely has a thing for blondes with large chests. Like this girl.

  “Really? Cause Mom told me things are getting rougher at the store?”

  He shrugs. “We’re hanging in there, I guess. I’m still helping out after work.”

  I nod. “I know. That’s really noble of you.”

  “Shut up, ass,” he chuckles.

  I shake my head. “Nah, I’m serious, bro. That’s great you’re doing that… it’s like you’ve grown up.”

  He laughs again. “Just a little. I still like to act a fool most days.”

  I chuckle. “Yeah, I know.”

  “You think you’re going to stop by the house sometime soon and talk to Pops?”

  I shake my head again. “Nope. No reason to. He still thinks I’m no good, and I can’t control my temper. That’s not true anymore. What happened back then is the past. It’s not coming back up again.”

  He considers my words for a few minutes before saying, “I believe you, Mad. Mase and Mom, too. It’s Pops you’ve got to convince. He hasn’t been feeling well lately.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Maverick shrugs. “He’s developed a stupid cough that won’t go away. Mom wants him to get checked out.”

  He probably caught the flu that’s going around. The old man does like to work up a sweat and then go outside in cold weather wearing nothing more than a T-shirt on. Mom always yelled at him about that.

  “I see. I wouldn’t be surprised if he caught a cold or something.”

  Maverick chuckles. “Yeah, probably. But seriously, though. You should come and talk to him.”

  I smirk. “Yeah, not interested. But I’ll catch up with you later… I have to run home and get ready for work.”

  He nods. “Okay, bro. I’ll see you around… I’m going to get this work out now and then head off to work as well.”

  We say our goodbyes, and as I hop into my car and get ready to take off, I see Mav racing to catch up with the blonde girl, and they strike up a conversation.

  I chuckle to myself. “Figures.”

  I swing open the front door of my apartment building to head off for work, but am quickly taken aback by the smiling middle-aged woman with a handbag hanging on her left forearm and her arms folded across her chest. “Mom?”

  “Hi, sweetie.” She continues smiling at me.

  I flip my wrist to get a look at my watch and notice it’s seven forty. “Was I supposed to pick you up for breakfast?” We had met up for lunch two days ago. I don’t recall telling her we’d have brunch on Friday.

  She giggles. “No, silly. I was on my way to the store, but decided to stop by and see how you’re doing instead.”

  I furrow my brows. This isn’t like my mother. I just saw her two days prior. She knows how I’m doing. Something is on her mind. “Do you want to come in? I have some time before work.” I’m only a few minutes from the station, I can get there in no time.

  She holds out her right hand, waving it from left to right. “No, no. It’s fine, sweetie. I just wanted to—”

  I reach out my hand to grab her arm and cut her off. “Mom, what is it? What’s going on?”

  I see her eyes instantly filling up with tears.

  “Mom? Come on, come in… let’s go sit down.” I gently pull her inside, but it doesn’t take much for her to follow my lead.

  I lock the door behind her and she makes her way into my apartment and plops down on the couch. She looks up at me from her seat with tears now streaming down her cheeks.

  I walk over to her and grab the ottoman from one side, pulling it over so that it’s settled right in front of her and take a seat on it. I place a hand on her shoulder and tilt my head to the side. “Mom, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Is everything all right? You’re scaring me.”

  She lets out a nervous chuckle and says, “Yes… no, not really.”

  “What is it, Mom? The store?”

  She shakes her head. “It’s your father.”

 
Maverick’s words from earlier this morning come crashing back to the front of my mind. She’s worried about him. She probably thinks it’s more than what it really is.

  “Mom, I’m sure Pops is o—”

  “He’s got cancer!” she blurts out before sobbing into a handkerchief I didn’t even see her pull out of her purse.

  I pull myself back and scrunch up my eyebrows. Cancer? Maverick never said anything about cancer. “Are you sure? I mean, how?”

  She shakes her head a few times from left to right. She takes in a deep breath and composes herself before speaking. “We just found out about it last night. I begged him to go to the doctor’s since he started coughing a couple of weeks ago. At first, we didn’t think much of it. But then it just wouldn’t go away.”

  “What? I mean, how is that even possible? Cancer?”

  She nods and looks down at the handkerchief in her hands. She’s fumbling with it, folding it and unfolding it. A nervous habit, I realize. “It’s just one of those things. Didn’t see it coming and didn’t know it was there.” She scoffs. “Lung cancer. Can you believe it? Out of all things…”

  Lung cancer? How could it be lung cancer? They had to have made a mistake. “Lung cancer? But Pops’ not even a smoker.” It totally baffles my mind.

  “It doesn’t matter. Cancer doesn’t discriminate.”

  I move back in my seat on the ottoman and let out a deep breath. Why hadn’t Mav said anything about this to me this morning?

  “I don’t know what we’re going to do. Now that your father is sick, and the store already in jeopardy, I don’t even know what to do. I couldn’t even bear to tell your brothers yet.”

  Ah, so Mase and Mav don’t know yet. No wonder Mav hadn’t said a word to me when I saw him. I can’t deny the fact that this surprises me. Why did she come to me first? Why not tell Maverick or Mason? Maybe it’s because I’m the oldest. Still, I would have thought with me being away for all those years, she would have been closer to one of them instead. “So they don’t know?”

  She shakes her head. “No. I couldn’t say anything yet. Granted, I didn’t see Maverick before he took off this morning. When we got back last night, he was out. And Mason, I was planning on stopping by there after leaving here.”

  “Mom, I—”

  She pats me on the arm. “It’s okay, Maddox. It’s fine. I can see the worry in your eyes, but I’ll be okay.”

  She’s lying. My mother won’t be okay, at least not right now. This is going to hit her hard. She’s been with my father since she was sixteen.

  I search her eyes, and I want to tell her it’s okay not to be okay, but she doesn’t let me speak.

  “Maddox, I just wanted to tell you all this because you deserve to know. If you could just put things between you and your father aside for a few hours and stop by the house to see him, I know it would—”

  “I can’t do that, Mom.” I stand up, cutting off her statement.

  She follows me with her eyes. “Why?”

  I flip around. I can’t face her. “Because he thinks I’m no good. And there’s nothing I can do that’s good enough for him, ever. He still thinks I’m that young kid with his head barely hanging on.”

  I feel my mother now standing a few feet away from me. In a hushed tone, she says, “He loves you, Maddox.”

  I spin back around to face her. “How? How can you say he loves me when he can’t bear to be in the same room as me?”

  “He does,” she pushes.

  I look to the ground. I can’t look her in the eyes. “He used to love me. I used to make him proud. Not anymore.”

  She takes a loud, audible breath. “He’ll always be proud of you, Maddox, even if you don’t see it or he doesn’t show it.”

  Looking up at her once more, I watch her as she makes her way toward my door. She grabs the doorknob, and as she pulls it open, she looks back at me. “Maddox, I don’t think he’s going to make it much longer. If you can find it in your heart to forgive him and come over to see him, I would really appreciate it. I know it would mean so much to him, too.”

  I swallow thickly as her words start sinking in.

  My father is not going to make it. He’s dying. When the hell did this happen? Can I push the feelings of resentment I harbor for him aside and move on from the bitterness?

  Chapter Twelve

  Somehow, I make it into work before Lieutenant Brooks realizes I’m late. I don’t know how because usually, I always manage to run into him, but today, I got lucky. Either he’s behind closed doors or he hasn’t made it in yet.

  “Good morning, Officer Martinelli,” Emily welcomes me from behind her desk. She’s busy typing on the computer—probably answering an email or something—but she never fails to greet me with a smile every single morning.

  “Morning, Emily. How are you doing today?” I ask to be polite, but I really need to make this quick before Brooks catches up with me.

  She stops typing and averts her full attention to me. Still smiling, she responds. “I’m good, thanks. And yourself? Brooks was looking for you this morning when he first got in.”

  And there it is. Fuck. I should have known. I take a glance around the precinct to make sure Brooks is nowhere in sight.

  Still, I play stupid. “Oh, yeah. What’d he say?”

  She shrugs. “He was just asking if you made it in yet. I told him I think I saw you head toward the back,” she winks.

  Did I mention Emily is an angel?

  “You’re a doll, Em. You know that?”

  She giggles. “Yeah, I figured something was up when it was after eight forty-five, and you still hadn’t made it in. You’re usually here by eight, eight thirty the latest.”

  Dare I tell her why I was late?

  I decide against it. I don’t really share much of my personal life with co-workers, and there’s no need for me to stress her with any of it.

  “Wow, what time did you get in?” I shift my weight to my left leg.

  Emily tucks a loose strand of her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear and says, “I’m usually here by seven thirty every morning.”

  I nod. “I see. Do you know if there is any coffee ready in the kitchen?” With what Mom dropped on me this morning, I didn’t have a chance to grab a cup of coffee. Thankfully, they had just purchased a new machine about a week ago, and since then, the coffee’s been on point. No more hot, dirty water. Thank God.

  She picks up the cup sitting on her desk and holds it up in front of me. “Just refilled the water tank about ten minutes ago.”

  I smile. Emily always makes sure the Keurig is ready to go in the morning. If Lieutenant Brooks or Captain Webber were to come in and the machine wasn’t ready to go, they would not be happy. God forbid you to take away their coffee.

  I can’t say I blame them, though. I need my coffee in the morning as badly as the next guy, but I don’t care about making it. I can refill the tank myself. I just prefer to bring my own from home and sip on it while I’m on my way in. Not like I live far from here, but still. Sometimes, I still stop at the deli and grab a cup when I’m running late.

  “You’re the best. I need to grab a cup.”

  She furrows her brows. “I guess you didn’t have time this morning? I mean, duh me… you got here late, so of course you didn’t… anyway, listen to me rambling. Yes, it’s ready to go for you to brew your favorite blend. They just restocked the flavors last night before I left. I think they got more French Vanilla and Mocha this time.”

  I look around, making sure Brooks is still nowhere to be found, and decide that it’s best for me to get going. “Okay, sounds good. I’d better head to my desk before Brooks realizes I haven’t gotten in till now.”

  “Coffee first,” she says in a sing-song voice.

  I chuckle. “Yes, coffee always first. I’ll see you later, Em.”

  She giggles. “See you, Officer Martinelli.”

  It never fails. She will never call me by my first name. I guess she’s just very respec
tful like that.

  I push away from her desk and begin my stroll toward the kitchen. I walk in to find it empty. Perfect. I place one of the twelve ounce paper cups underneath the sprout and select a breakfast blend pod. I pop it into the Keurig and select the eight-ounce coffee option. I don’t like watered down coffee.

  I turn my gaze to the table off to the right and see a box of fresh doughnuts wide open. Guess Emily stopped by to pick some up before heading in. She’s on top of things like that. I think that’s the reason Brooks and Webber like her so much.

  As the sound of coffee pours into my cup, a familiar voice makes me turn around.

  “Martinelli, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.” Brooks is carrying a cup in his right hand and his cell phone in his left. As he speaks, he scrolls through it.

  “Good morning, Lieutenant.” I take a sip from my cup and lean against the counter, making it seem like I’m relaxed and I’ve been in all morning. Hopefully, he hasn’t passed by my desk and noticed that I still haven’t logged into my computer.

  He steps forward. “Ooh, doughnuts.” He takes in the sight of treats on the table, but then looks back at me and speaks once more. “So, I wanted to ask you about the Sinclair case. Think you can stop by there sometime this morning and check out the scene?”

  I think for a second. Thomas Sinclair, recently divorced husband and father, let go from his position at Windown Industries, a production company, after serving them for over fifteen years. Problem is, money went missing from their accounts just days after they let him go.

  “Sure, I can do that,” I respond.

  He nods and turns on his heels. “Good. Now get to your desk and log into the system. And don’t make it a habit of being late again.” He walks over to the table and grabs a glazed doughnut.

  “Yes, sir,” I respond, but he’s already out of the kitchen. Guess he noticed I wasn’t in after all.

  I push away from the counter and begin the trek to my desk. Placing my cup on the desk, I pull out the chair with my free hand and then take a seat. I’ll need to go through a few emails before I get out and make my way to Sinclair’s in the patrol car. It should be an easy day. By the time I finish up at Sinclair’s, it should almost be lunchtime.

 

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