by Piper Page
* * *
What the fuck?
* * *
“Sunny, tell me what happened.” I held her arm so she had to face me, even as she tried to shake it away. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know you, Cole! I don’t know you at all! I want to go home.” Her teeth were clenched when she hissed at me.
My chest felt like someone had kicked me in it and crushed my rib cage. There was a brick on my heart and someone was suffocating me. I let her go and sat down hard on the edge of the bed. I pushed my hands through my hair and hung my head with a heavy sigh, struggling to understand.
* * *
You know why.
* * *
I didn’t know who, or why they’d done it, or how, but someone had gotten to Sunny. All this time, I’d been fearful of what lay in the shadows back in Houston, only to be taken down in a completely different country. Was this karma? Was fate telling me I didn’t deserve this woman? “I’ll buy you a ticket in the morning. Just…please, stay the night, it’s getting late,” I surrendered.
“I’d rather stay in the airport and wait if there’s no flight tonight.”
“Damn it, Sunny, don’t be unreasonable.” My palms slapped to my thighs, and I looked at her with frustration.
“Don’t you yell at me! I am not being unreasonable, I am in a foreign country with a criminal! I’m not going to risk my safety by staying another moment on this boat with the likes of you.”
* * *
A criminal? Who did she talk to?
* * *
“Sunny, let me explain.” I stood up and moved close to her, trying to hold her. I only wanted her in my arms again. “Please?”
She stepped away. Was she afraid of me?
* * *
No baby, please, I would never hurt you. I want to protect you!
* * *
I couldn’t let her go back on her own. How was I going to keep her out of Filippo’s clutches if she was on her own? “I’ll fly back with you. I’ll arrange for the private jet.”
“No, Cole. I can’t be with you. I can’t trust you. I don’t know who you are or what kind of ‘business’ you’re involved in. I can’t be involved with a drug dealer.” Her voice was raised, and I was afraid the crew would hear her.
“I am not a drug dealer,” I said in a meaningfully low tone, trying to subtly get her to keep hers down too.
Sunny turned and glared at me. Her eyes made me cringe, not unlike when I was a little boy and my mother would catch me in a lie. I wasn’t a dealer. I mean I didn’t actually handle cocaine. I wasn’t doling it out on the streets in little plastic baggies. Her mind wasn’t seeing the big picture, the business end of it. Of course, there was the dangerous side of things, too. That was what I would have a hard time explaining—telling her that even if I let her walk away from me, she wouldn’t be safe, that she was actually in much more danger without me than with me, that this little secret was not one I was prepared to share yet. But it was the truth, and it was out.
She stood at the foot of the bed with a bag slung over her shoulder and her suitcase packed and zipped tight at her feet. “I’ll get a shuttle to the shore and a car to the airport. Please have a ticket ready for me. I will pay you back when I get back to Galveston.”
“You don’t have to pay me back, just let me explain some things to you.”
“Cole I don’t want to hear anything from you. You lied, you used me, you lied,” she repeated, obviously upset.
“Don’t go, Sunny, don’t leave me!”
A sob caught in her throat. “Goodbye, Cole.”
“Sunny, wait.”
The cabin door slammed behind her. I sat down on the bed. She needed time. I could respect that. She had a lot to think about. I was keeping things from her, I couldn’t deny that, but it was all for her own good. I knew what I had to do. I dialed the airline and arranged a ticket for her, and then I dialed a second number and made arrangements to have a team at the airport, at her house, and at the hospital at all times. I wasn’t going to lose her. Not to Lenny Filippo and certainly not because of some loose-lipped dick who gave her information that she misconstrued. Most personally, though, I didn’t want to lose her because of my stupidity about being honest and upfront. She deserved that.
* * *
Fuck.
* * *
I swiped a glass off the bedside stand and into the wall. I’d give her a few days. I couldn’t leave the island yet. I had loose ends to tie up here, and apparently, a leak to plug up as well. I’d contact her once I got back to Houston. Outside, I could hear the faint echo of a motor as the shuttle approached. There were a few minutes of silence and then the same motor dissipated as the boat made its way back inland. My Sunny was gone, and I couldn’t remember another time, not since my mother passed, that I had felt so utterly alone.
19
Sunny
Chimes from the doorbell announced the arrival of my father. I invited him over for lunch and to talk. Four days had passed since I’d gotten back to Galveston and he said he was going to have a SWAT team break down my door if I didn’t get up and do something. He was right. Wallowing in my own self-pity and sorrow was getting me nowhere. It was actually pretty draining. Sleeping and crying had been my priorities in the past few days.
I opened the door and hugged my father. “Hi, Daddy.’
“Hi, darling.” He stood back and gave me the once-over. “So nice of you to dress for lunch.”
I looked down and scowled at my gray sweatpants and mismatched socks. I ran my fingers through my unruly and uncombed hair, twisting it up into some semblance of a messy bun before securing it with a rubber hair tie from my wrist. My father made himself at home, taking a beer from my fridge and popping the top of the bottle with ease before sitting down on the couch. “So, what’s this all about, pumpkin?”
I gave him my ‘little girl’ look, pretending not to understand. “Nothing. I just thought we could have lunch together. You haven’t been over in a while, and well, I miss you.”
He took a big gulp off the long-necked bottle. “Sunny Banks, you can stand there and feed me fibs and French fries all afternoon if you want, but if something is bothering you, say it.”
I plastered a smile on my face. “I didn’t make French fries. I made subs.” My socks hit the floor as I slid off the arm of the sofa and walked into the kitchen to retrieve plates, chips, and our sandwiches, along with a second beer for my dad.
He patted the cushion next to him. “Do you remember your rabbit Elmer?”
I nodded.
“Remember how you tried to tell me you’d decided to let him go back to his family in the woods?”
I nodded again.
“Do you also remember how you didn’t eat for three days because you were so guilty about not telling the truth?”
I set my uneaten sub down on my plate and pushed around the few chips I had with the tip of my finger. “I do, and then when I finally told you that I had forgotten to close the door on his cage and he ran away, you took me out for a huge hot fudge sundae.”
My father took a big bite of his roast beef sandwich and mumbled through a full mouth, “How many days do you want to go this time before we go get that ice cream?”
I leaned my head against my father’s strong shoulder. “I can never keep anything from you, can I?”
“I’m your dad—kinda like the great and powerful OZ, but with parental powers and no hot air balloon.”
* * *
Oh Daddy, you always make me smile. Never change.
* * *
I sighed. I knew what I needed to do. My battle was with my inner feelings, the memories of being with Cole warring against what I knew was right. In my head, I was trying to justify what I was about to do. I mean, it was my duty as an upstanding Galvestonian, who was the daughter of a well-respected and equally upstanding Galveston police officer. It was fate that put Cole and I together, and maybe the reason was so that he would be discovered. Fate want
ed me to know so that I could do my due diligence to keep Galveston safe. I had no choice. I had to tell the one person I knew could do something about it. The one person I had always trusted. I needed to tell my father about Cole. Not everything, not the fact that I had given him my virginity or that I had shared wonderful, beautiful, meaningful moments with him, but that he was a criminal, using our town and Houston to make illegal drug deals and investments.
“What’s it going to be, pumpkin?”
I swallowed and pulled my shoulders back. Today, I would redeem myself and become the Sunny that was good and wholesome and an asset to her community. “Daddy, I need to tell you something.”
“Darling, I knew that already.”
“I know, but you’re not going to like it.”
He set his sandwich down and leaned back, giving me his full attention. He still made me nervous, like I was a preteen and not an adult.
* * *
Just tell him, spit it out. It’s like taking off a Band-Aid, Sunny. One quick rip and it’s over.
* * *
I took a deep breath. “Dad, if you know something, and it’s something that can not only affect you and the people you love, but people in general, like people here in Galveston—well, really it could be people in Houston and for that matter people in Vegas and now probably people in the Caribbean—you’d have to report it to the authorities, right? For everyone’s safety? I mean, even if it meant someone you knew would be in a lot of trouble, lose a lot, most likely go to prison, you’d still have to, wouldn’t you?” I took another deep breath and waited for my father to answer.
He crossed his arms and readjusted his position on the sectional. “So, you are telling me that you know of a person who has the intention and the capability of jeopardizing not only our place on the earth but numerous places and millions of people?”
I nodded.
“If that’s the case, then I think we need to contact NSA, ISA, CIA, and FBI, to hell with local.”
My heart was racing. “What? No, it’s not that. He’s not a terrorist!” I was stunned. Was he joking? What was I doing?
“He’s not a terrorist. Well, thank God for that, I was finding it hard to know that my daughter would have connections with terrorists. But if he’s affecting a lot of people’s safety, Sunny, pumpkin, you have to let me know what’s going on here.”
“Someone is dealing drugs here in Galveston and Houston, and it’s spreading.”
I watched as my father visibly relaxed and rolled his eyes. “Sunny, seriously? Holy Hannah, you had me worked up for that? Drugs around here are nothing new. The station picks up dealers all the time. They are aware, and we try our best.” He patted my knee. “I’m happy my daughter is a concerned citizen, but trust me, you don’t need to worry.”
He wasn’t understanding.
* * *
Tell him who it is.
* * *
I took a breath. “Daddy, I know all that. He’s not just the everyday street dealer. He’s bigger, much bigger.” This got my father’s attention.
“Do you have a name and a location?”
“He’s here and in Houston. It’s Cole von Larsen.”
I watched as my father’s head snapped up and his back went straight. His eyes were focused on me, yet his mouth was silent for several minutes.
“Dad?”
I watched his body purposely relax, and he tried to sit back and get comfortable again, taking another pull of beer off the bottle that he had forgotten about during our mixed-up yet revealing conversation. He laid his hand on mine. “Pumpkin, don’t put your pretty little head in dark places that don’t concern the likes of you. You’re my Sunny Sunshine. You don’t need to let these matters upset or concern you. That’s what me and my men are here for.”
I nodded. “I know, Dad, that’s why I thought you should know.”
His brows knitted together in concern with a new thought. “But how would you know anything about Cole von Larsen?”
* * *
Time to come clean, Sunny.
* * *
“Because I went on a date with him.”
* * *
Okay, maybe not totally, one-hundred percent clean.
* * *
My father didn’t need all the sordid details. I would give him the basic info he needed to make his investigation. My personal experience with Cole did not play into that plan. He kept hold of my hand, but I could see the tension in the line of his clenched jaw. “Your mother did mention something a few weeks ago, about seeing you in the paper with a man at the hospital benefit in Houston. I assumed it was someone from work. I guess I should have paid more attention to what she was telling me. You know your mother.” He shrugged. “Sunny, listen to me, you need to stay away from that man. Okay?”
I bit my bottom lip and scratched at a nonexistent spot on the fabric of the cushion with my nail.
* * *
That’s my plan.
* * *
“Sunny, promise me. You’re my baby girl. I don’t want you to show up in a gutter somewhere.”
I looked up at him with tears in the corners of my eyes. As mad as I was with Cole, and even though I knew I wouldn’t be seeing him again, it hurt to think that people thought of him as that cruel and dangerous. He was sweet to me.
“I know it sounds cold, but people who mix with the likes of Cole von Larsen…it doesn’t go well for innocent bystander. Do you understand that, Sunny? Do you get what I’m telling you? This is very serious business.”
I wiped away a stray tear. I knew my father thought I was upset with the information I was giving up, upset by the sense of relief. If he knew the real reason, that I was dealing with feelings left over from my time with Cole, I doubted he would be this calm with me. “I do, I understand. What will happen now? To Cole, I mean?”
He squeezed my hand and leaned over to hug me. I felt safe in his arms. “Don’t you worry about that. It’s out of your hands now, pumpkin. People reap what they sow.”
I nodded against his shoulder, but my stomach was all twisted knots of bile. I was not in the mood for hot fudge sundaes. All I wanted was to curl up in bed and sleep. I wanted to forget about every moment of the last several weeks. I needed to put Cole out of my head for good.
“Thank you for lunch, sweetheart.” My dad stood by my door and hugged me. My physical and emotional states were utterly depleted. I wanted a nap in the worst way. The door latched behind him, and I watched out the side of the front window as he backed out of my driveway. My neighbors had company again. Since I’d come back from Aruba, there was either a red Audi or black SUV parked at the curb, every day.
“At least someone is building a relationship,” I whispered into the blinds as I closed them.
My body fell into the bedding like dead weight. I could feel the tears that were always at the surface of my eyelids start to trail down the sides of my face. I did the right thing by telling my father, didn’t I? Cole was a detriment to society. He was conducting illegal activities, and it was wrong. Why did I feel so awful about it? My stomach churned with guilt.
I drifted in and out of sleep. I heard my phone vibrate several times on my bedside table. I knew it wasn’t Cole, I’d blocked his number. When he started sending flowers the first full day I was back in Galveston, I refused them and had them returned to sender. He got the hint and stopped sending them after the second day. Nothing else appeared on my doorstep, and with his number blocked, he must have taken the hint fast and decided to leave me be. I guess I wasn’t as wonderful or wanted as he had expressed.
By morning, I looked worse than I did when I went to bed the previous afternoon. Today, I would get back to normal, I decided. I would go back to my normal morning routine, back to my normal work schedule, and back to my normal comfort zone. My body stretched in the mussed-up covers, and my stomach gurgled as I felt myself wretch. I barely made it to the bathroom before I heaved the reaming contents of my stomach into the toilet bowl. Huffing and
blowing the nausea away, I managed to brush my teeth and shower before the next wave hit me and left me curled up on the floor.
* * *
Perfect, nothing like a bout of a twenty-four-hour bug to start back into the routine.
* * *
I should call my dad and see if he was sick yesterday, or at least warn him that I had contaminated him with my germs.
“Hello?”
“Hey Daddy.”
“Hi Sunny, what’s up?”
“I wanted to see if you were feeling alright.”
“Fit as a fiddle, pumpkin.”
“Good. Thanks for having lunch with me yesterday.”
“Anything for my baby girl. I’m a little short on time, have to get to the station now. Can we talk later?”
“Sure thing. Love you.”
“You too.”
He wasn’t sick at all, he sounded as healthy as he always did. Maybe it was the meat on my sub—it did smell odd to me when I opened the wrapper. I probably had food poisoning. That thought brought me back to the bathroom, and I expelled all the water I had taken in.
With my hair tied back and my face pale but clean. I climbed into my car—at least the dry heaves had stopped and my stomach was beginning to settle enough for me to munch on a few saltine crackers. Maybe I was stressed.
* * *
Of course you’re stressed. You just broke up with a multi-billionaire who’s also a drug lord. Yes, you’re stressed.
