by Alexa Wilder
“No?” Sam asked, his hand on my arm again in a tight grip as he walked me out of the building. “You can be pissed at me all you want, honey, but stay close. I don’t like being here when we don’t know what’s going on.”
I didn’t answer, but relented, allowing him to tuck me into his side as we walked. He was right. It had been a risk to go back to the apartment, though I was glad we had. At least we knew a little more than we did before. Whoever those men were, they’d been looking for something, not just for me and Nolan. And we had a name and a location to start our search for Nolan. Feliks at Balls and Sticks.
I let Sam lead me to the truck and help me in, both annoyed and grateful for his protection. Once the doors were shut, and he’d started the drive to work, I said,
“I’m going to this place to find Feliks.”
“No way,” Sam said immediately.
“I’m not asking, Sam. I’m telling you what I’m going to do.”
“And I’m telling you no fucking way.”
Supremely aggravated by his bossy attitude, I said, “You’re not my father, Sam. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“Well maybe if your father had bothered to say ‘no’ once in a while, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“Maybe we wouldn’t,” I said quietly. “But he didn’t. He was a terrible dad, and he left raising Nolan to me. And I completely messed it up. I know that. But I’m going to fix it, Sam. I have to.” Sam swore and pulled the truck into a parking lot as I whispered again, “I have to.”
He threw the truck into park and turned to me, taking my face in his hands. “I shouldn’t have said that, love, it was a shitty thing to throw at you. Your dad is an asshole, but that isn’t your fault. And Nolan being a fuck up isn’t your fault either.”
“I raised him,” I said quietly.
“And who raised you, Clo?” Sam asked in a gentle voice. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. We both knew the answer was that no one really had.
“You raised yourself,” Sam went on, “And you’re the most amazing woman I know. So you did something right. Whatever is going on with Nolan isn’t on you. We’ll find him because he’s your brother and you love him. But don’t blame yourself for this. He’s twenty-two years old. He makes his own decisions. You’re only three years older than him. Hardly old enough to baby-sit him, much less be responsible for him.”
Sam waited for me to respond, but I didn’t know what to say. He was right. When he put it like that it was absurd for me to feel more like Nolan’s mother than his sister. I’d been barely more than a child when my Mom had left and our Dad stopped caring about us. Still, logic couldn’t shake my sense of responsibility. Nolan would always be my little brother. To make Sam feel better, I said,
“I know.”
“Okay,” Sam said, dropping his hands from my face to place a kiss on my forehead.
“I’m still going to the pool hall,” I said.
“Fine,” Sam said, the gentleness burned out of his voice by his renewed anger. “But you’re not going without me.”
“Fine,” I said. I hadn’t planned on it, but I wasn’t telling Sam that. For a laid back guy he’d been having some serious mood swings lately. I didn’t tell Sam that either. Somehow I didn’t think he’d take it well.
I was lost in thought as we pulled back onto the main road, trying to take in Sam’s sweetness in sticking up for me against my own guilt and wondering what Axel would find out about Feliks. Out of the blue, I thought about Nolan’s job. I’d called Monday morning and asked to talk to him, only to find that he’d been fired a few weeks before.
I’d been too worried about him to process that he’d lost his job. I could yell at him about that when I found him. But before the destruction in the apartment had distracted me, I’d meant to call one of his friends. He didn’t hang out with a lot of the guys there, but he had been friends with a programmer named Tim. It was possible Tim knew something. Frantic to find out, I started digging around in my purse.
“What?” Sam asked, his eyes flicking off the road to watch me digging for my phone.
“I just thought of a friend of Nolan’s I can call. From his job.”
“Did you call them to let them know he was missing?” Sam asked. I hadn’t mentioned the situation with Nolan’s job yet. I hadn’t wanted to hear what Sam would say.
“Not exactly,” I admitted, dreading Sam’s commentary when he found out Nolan had been fired. Again. “I called hoping he’d shown up, and they told me they let him go a few weeks ago.”
“And he didn’t tell you?” Sam asked, his voice flat. I shook my head. Sam took my hand in his.
“I’m sorry, honey.”
That was it. No barbs about Nolan being irresponsible or needing to get it together. Just 'I’m sorry'. My heart squeezed in my chest. If I thought there was a chance I could get involved with Sam and have it work out, I’d be all over him. I couldn’t bring myself to trust that he was serious about me, but he was such a good guy.
Finding my phone, I reluctantly withdrew my hand from Sam’s and started looking for Tim’s number. I’d never called him, but a while ago Nolan had lost his phone and gave me Tim’s number in case I needed to call when they were going out. I never erased my texts, so it had to be in here somewhere.
We were almost at work when I found it. I dialed and listened to the phone ring, a knot in my stomach.
“Hello? Nolan?” Tim’s voice echoed through the speaker.
“No, it’s Chloe, Tim. I’m looking for Nolan. Have you seen him?”
“No. I’ve been calling him. We were supposed to hang out the other night, but he didn’t show. I thought maybe he lost his phone, and he was calling from yours.”
“No. I wish. So you have no idea where he is?” I asked, the knot in my stomach getting worse. I don’t know why I’d thought Tim would be able to help. At this point I was grasping at straws.
“To be honest, I’m kind of worried about him,” Tim said. “He said some things when we last talked that made me think he was into some weird stuff.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Stuff I don’t want to talk about on the phone,” he said. “Can you meet me after work?”
“Sure. Just tell me where,” I said, eager for any information he could give us.
“That coffee house down the street from where we work. Where Nolan used to work. You know-”
“I know where you mean, Tim. When? Five?”
“A little after. I’ll see you then.”
He hung up, and I did the same. As soon as I put the phone down, Sam said,
“So he knew something? We’re meeting him after work?”
I told him what Tim had said and tried not to worry about what it might mean. Sam pulled the truck into the parking lot in front of the office and came around to help me out.
Despite my concern over Nolan, it was time to get in gear. We had a day’s work to do, and between my sleeping late and stopping by my apartment, we were late. Really late. Sam held open the front door, a sheet of glass trimmed with polished wood and stone that opened into a high-ceilinged lobby with a slate floor and matching front desk. We both smiled and nodded at the receptionist who was speaking quietly into her headset.
The building had been designed by the same architect who created Sam’s house. It was a testament to the quality of construction and design that Desert Vistas produced. Both elegant and desert rustic, it was a piece of art as much as an office building. Every time I passed through the door, it reminded me of Sam. As we walked to the executive suite, I ran over the day in my mind.
“You have a conference call on the Givvins project in forty-five minutes,” I said, double checking the time on my phone. “The power point and the spreadsheets are in the file. I updated them with the latest numbers from John before I left last night.”
Sam walked into his office and I followed, dumping my purse on my chair as I went on, “The preliminary contracts for the golf resort are
on your desk. Jack marked anything he thought you should pay extra close attention to. Otherwise they’re what you agreed to.”
“What did you think?” Sam asked as he shrugged of his jacket. I tried not to be distracted by the way his button-down pulled across his broad shoulders. I didn’t know why, but I’d always loved the way he looked when he took off his jacket. I yanked my mind back onto the contract.
“It was fair. But they tried to wiggle on the due diligence for the land. It’s not what you agreed to.”
“How much did they take off?”
“Seventeen days,” I said. Sam whistled. We spent another few minutes going over business before I left the office and went to make us a pot of coffee. I usually drank the tea Sam hated in the afternoon, but today was a coffee day. A few minutes later I was sliding a steaming mug in front of Sam, along with a leftover muffin. I didn’t know how much he’d eaten for breakfast, but he’d missed lunch, and he’d be hungry.
As I moved around his desk to get back to my own, he reached out to grab my hand, pulling me to a halt. “Thanks,” he said, his eyes meeting mine with a heat that made me momentarily dizzy. “You look gorgeous in that suit. Don’t let any of the guys hit on you while I’m busy.”
He said it smiling, but gave my hand a squeeze before he let me go and I couldn’t tell if he was joking. We did work with a lot of men, it was usually that way in a male dominated field like construction, but none of them ever hit on me. I was Sam’s executive assistant. Not eye candy. And he’d never worried about the other men before.
Or maybe he had, and I just hadn’t noticed. Shaking my head, I went back to my desk, determined to catch up on work and forget about everything else, just for a little while.
9
Chloe
It was one of those afternoons when the office was practically deserted, everyone either holed up working on projects or out in the field, so I was actually able to make headway into my pile of things to do by the time it was five o’clock. Sam walked out of his office door, briefcase in hand, just as I was preparing to go get him.
The afternoon had been completely normal, with no hint of the earlier tension between us. I might have wondered if I’d imagined it, except for his hand on my lower back as he walked me out through the lobby. He usually opened doors and helped me into his truck, but he rarely touched me more than he needed to.
I looked out of the corner of my eye to see if the receptionist noticed, but she was already gone for the day. The coffee house was a short trip, one we made mostly in silence. Sam seemed distracted, and I was preoccupied with wondering what Tim would have to tell me about Nolan.
We arrived at the coffee shop fifteen minutes after five to find Tim already there, waiting in the back, his fingers drumming nervously on the table. He was a skinny guy, with the sloppy clothes and negligent grooming stereotypical of most programmers, complete with pale skin and a geeky t-shirt. This one read 'Any fool can use a computer. Many do.'
Tim worked, and Nolan used to work, for a start-up that offered partially automated customer service bots for companies to cut down on actual people providing service. Instead of outsourcing the work to other countries, they were allowing the positions to be filled by bots. Nolan had seemed to like the job, but maybe he hadn’t. It was turning out that I didn’t know as much about my brother as I thought I did.
Tim’s eyes widened when he saw me and he smiled in welcome. Then he noticed Sam behind me and scowled.
“Who is that?” he asked.
“My friend Sam,” I said, sitting down across from Tim, “He’s helping me look for Nolan. You really haven’t seen him?”
“I don’t know if I want to talk with him here,” Tim said, reminding me of a sullen child.
“Why not?” I asked. “He’s just a friend who’s helping me.”
Tim eyed Sam warily. “Fine,” he said. “I don’t know all that much.”
He shifted in his chair, rubbing his palms on his jeans, his eyes flicking between Sam and me, beads of perspiration on his forehead. I’d only met Tim a few times, but I didn’t remember him being this edgy. I was glad Sam was with me. Leaning in close so I could lower my voice, I said,
“Tim, please just tell me what you know about Nolan. I won’t get you into trouble, I promise. Neither will Sam.”
“Hey, I didn’t do anything wrong,” Tim said, shaking his head. “But Nolan got mixed up with some bad guys. He was playing cards a lot at night and he started playing in a room I heard belonged to Sergey Tsepov. Then he asked to borrow money from me.”
“Did you give it to him?” I asked. Tim shook his head, shuffling his feet under his chair and wiping his palms on his jeans again.
“I didn’t have it. And I know how it goes in this town. Never lend money to a guy who likes cards.”
“Where is the room he’s been playing?” I asked. Sam took my hand and tried to get my attention, but I ignored him, focused on Tim. If Nolan had been playing cards there a lot, maybe we’d get a better lead on where he was.
“315 Studen Street. You have to go in the back of the bar and talk to a guy named Dog to get in the game. I went with him once, but Dog freaked me out. He’s the only one of those guys who wasn’t Russian, and he looked like a biker.”
“Okay.” I stood when Sam grabbed my arm and practically dragged me to my feet. I tried to jerk my arm away, but he refused to let go, instead lacing his fingers with mine and pulling me in close. Before he could force me out of the coffee shop, I said to Tim, “Thanks, Tim. If you hear from Nolan, please, will you call me?”
He nodded, his eyes wide and kind of glazed as he watched Sam steer me through the chairs and tables and out the door. As soon as we were outside, I hissed, “What do you think you’re doing?”
Sam opened the door to the truck and lifted me inside, his face dark, his eyes foreboding. He shut the door and rounded the front to get in, pulling his phone out as he went. He was already talking when he got in.
“… Yeah. Says he’s been playing in one of Tsepov’s rooms. On Studen. Fuck. I know. Call me when you know more. Thanks.”
“Axel?” I asked, unnerved by how angry Sam seemed to be. He gave a short nod. “Are you going to tell me what has you so upset?”
“Has your friend in there always been a tweaker?” Sam asked. I had no idea what he was asking.
“I don’t know what that means.”
“He was high, honey. Based on the fidgeting, dilated pupils, paranoia and sweating, I’m guessing meth.”
“I don’t know,” I said, looking down at my lap. I didn’t know anything about drugs. My dad was a drinker, and I’d always shied away from alcohol and drugs, afraid that whatever weakness drove my Dad to drink was hiding inside me as well. A horrifying thought occurred to me. “Do you think Nolan was doing drugs?”
“Did he act like Tim was? Paranoid, moving all the time, going without sleep?”
“No. Sometimes he came home really late, but then he’d pass out and I’d have a hard time getting him up for work. I guess he was out playing cards.”
“Sounds like it. I doubt he was on drugs, but if he’s tied up with Tsepov, then you’re out of this, Chloe. All the way out.”
“Why? We finally have something to go on, you can’t tell me I’m out of it.”
“Axel is going to the card room tonight. He’ll talk to Dog. He knows him, he can find out more than you can.”
“Then I’ll go to the pool hall and talk to this Feliks guy.”
“Chloe, just stay home and let Axel handle it,” Sam said, clearly exasperated.
“No. I have to find Nolan. The sooner I find him, the sooner everything can go back to normal.”
“You’re being irrational.”
“I’m not. You’re trying to control my life,” I said. “If you’re just going to get in my way, then take me to a hotel and I’ll do this on my own.”
“No fucking way,” Sam said. He pulled the truck in front of a pizza place we both knew and turned th
e engine off.
“Why are we here?” I asked, confused.
“Dinner,” he answered, starting to get out. I put out a hand to stop him.
“Don’t get pizza. Take me to the store and I’ll get something I can cook.”
“You don’t have to cook Chloe.”
“I know I don’t. But I like to cook. It relaxes me. And you have an awesome kitchen.”
Sam sat back and shut the car door. I was annoyed with him, but I still wanted to get my hands on his kitchen. Anyway, Daniel would be there and he wasn’t annoying me. He shouldn’t get stuck with pizza because his son was an ass.
Crossing my arms over my chest as we drove to the grocery store, I said, “I’m going to the pool hall tonight. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” I had my car. At some point that morning, it had appeared in the driveway of Sam’s house. I’d noticed it when we left for work.
“You need to stay out of this, Chloe.”
“He’s my brother.”
“And Tsepov is Russian mob. I do not want you on this guy’s radar. It’s bad enough if your brother is mixed up with him.”
“If he’s so bad, how do you know him?” I asked. Sam didn’t exactly spend a lot of time hanging out with criminals. To my surprise, he looked out the side window, avoiding my eyes.
“He’s got an interest in concrete.”
“YOU'VE WORKED WITH HIM?!” I shouted. There I was, yelling for the second time in one day. But it wasn’t often I found out my boss and best friend was doing business with the mob.
“Not the way you’re thinking. Not once I knew who he was. Axel filled me in and I’ve kept an eye out where my business interests cross with Tsepov’s. He’s a smart man, but he’s dangerous. You need to stay away from him.”
“Fine, then Axel can go to the card room. But I’m still going to find this Feliks guy at the pool hall.”
Sam sighed again. “I’ll ask Axel. If the pool hall is Tsepov’s, we’re not going. If it’s clean, I’ll take you after dinner.”
“Fine,” I said, aware that to disagree would be unreasonable. I wanted to find Nolan. I did not want to get mixed up with the Russian mob.
