The Navigator (Mountains Series Book 5)

by Phoebe Alexander

  She still worried about him. He insisted he was fine, but the night before he’d yelled out the name “Clark” in his sleep. It was the first thing he’d said that was clear. Everything else had been mumbling. She wasn’t sure why he would dream about the man he’d been an understudy for, but the mind was capable of all kinds of crazy shit. Who knew that better than she did?

  They’d not talked about what they would do when the show was over. He’d practically been living there since they returned from Alabama and was out getting groceries for them while she soaked in the tub. He was definitely handling the rigors of nightly performances better than she was, but then again, he was ten years younger. I had a lot more energy in my thirties too, she reflected. Probably yet another reason we shouldn’t be together.

  Parts of her wanted this crazy fling to be over so she could move on with her life and find someone more age appropriate. She was feeling ready to try something with more commitment. She kept thinking about her conversations with Garrett about open relationships and polyamory, but she didn’t feel those things were really her. As much as she’d fought against tradition, there was something appealing about it: being bound to one man, joining together in a loving partnership till death do us part.

  Garrett wouldn’t ever want that, she reasoned. Hell, he doesn’t even think he’s capable of loving one woman, let alone multiple.

  So, why hadn’t she been able to just let him go? Cut her losses?

  Well, the show, for starters. It would be hard to sever ties with him when they had to perform opposite each other every night. So, when the show is over, she decided, we’ll have “the talk.” She had had “the talk” with a couple of other men she had dated, the one where she gave them the line, “It’s not you, it’s me.” But everyone knows that means it’s definitely you, she thought with an amused laugh.

  Still, she couldn’t quite imagine pulling the trigger. Something about Garrett was—

  Well, she knew she had feelings for him. She wasn’t even going to deny it at this point. What was it she always told her clients? “You can’t help who you fall in love with.” But she was a big girl. She could pull up her big girl panties and get over him like the trouper she was. Didn’t she raise a daughter on her own with absolutely no support? Didn’t she put herself through grad school while raising said daughter? Yes, she sure did.

  She was lost in those swirling thoughts when she heard the door open. She hadn’t locked it, knowing Garrett would be returning shortly. She thought she heard him rumbling around in the kitchen, probably putting away the groceries he bought.

  “Anjuli?” a voice called down her hallway.

  She froze. It didn’t sound like Garrett’s voice.

  “Hey, where are ya?”

  The voice was familiar. She heard footsteps down the hallway, then the bathroom door slowly creaked open.

  “There you are!”

  She grabbed a towel, flying out of the bathtub with the speed and agility of an Olympic gymnast. “Scott! What the fuck are you doing here?!” She was panting, water dripping down her body onto the tiled floor.

  He had the hugest, silliest grin on his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Your door was unlocked.”

  “Because I thought Garrett was coming right back,” she breathed out, clutching the towel more tightly to her soaking wet body.

  His eyes trailed up and down her figure, then he caught something in his peripheral vision and whipped his head toward the counter. She watched his eyes bulge out as he recognized what it was. His head slowly turned toward her. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Her body began pumping adrenaline through her veins, which surged through her limbs so fast, it nearly took her breath away. Heat bloomed on her cheeks and chest as she shrugged. “It’s none of your business, Scott.”

  “Are you serious about this guy, Juli?” Scott shook his head with disappointment. “You know, I checked into his background. Has he shared his dirty secrets with you yet?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Can you just get out? I don’t want to talk about him, okay?”

  “Maybe you need to get to know the guy before you get too attached, huh?” Scott warned her. “He’s got some pretty nasty stuff in his background. Did you know he was dismissed from grad school for assaulting a female student?”

  She shook her head. “That’s not what happened.” Why was he suddenly creeping her out? Her body was in fight or flight mode, and she was close to subjecting him to a maneuver she’d learned in self-defense class. The problem was she was dripping wet, wearing only a towel, and she felt wobbly on her feet on the wet floor.

  “Did he tell you he shot his mother and stepdad when he was a kid?” he fired out.

  It was like a bomb bursting over her. “What?! No—” She felt a sob rip through her. She didn’t want to believe his words, but she knew there was something wrong—that something had happened—

  He gave her a sympathetic smile and made a step toward her. “Come here, sweetheart. Come here.” He pulled her wet, dripping form to him, wrapping his arms around her as she broke down against his shoulder.

  “I tried to tell you not to get too close to him, sweetheart. He’s like a client. You can’t be doing that shit,” he whispered into her ears as he cradled her close to his body, then pressed a kiss against her cheek. Then he took her face into his palms and brushed his lips against hers, softly at first, then deeper as her body began to wilt against his.

  “Anjuli?” she heard his voice break through her own sobs. Footsteps down the hall, just like before. “What the fuck is going on?”

  Scott whipped around before Anjuli had a chance to react to Garrett standing in the doorway, bags of groceries in his arms. “Haven’t you done enough? Get the fuck out,” Scott seethed at him.

  “Let go of me!” Anjuli screamed at Scott, whipping her hand across his face. The towel dropped, exposing her wet, naked body to both men. She was flustered, her body ravaged by the adrenaline coursing through her. Scott began to reach for her again, but she brought her knee up into his crotch, looking relieved as he stumbled backward, holding his groin and wailing in pain.

  “What is going on?” Garrett demanded, dropping the bags of groceries on the floor in the hallway. He reached down and grabbed ahold of Scott, throwing him to the floor behind him as he stepped toward Anjuli.

  He started for her, but she screamed, “Don’t touch me!” as she scrambled for the towel that had dropped to the floor.

  “Get out! Both of you! Get the fuck out of my house!”

  He backed away from her with his arms raised, stunned to see the rage in her eyes. He didn’t even know she was capable of such cold, hard, rejection. He helped Scott, who was still writhing in pain, off the floor and grabbed him by the collar. “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m her co-worker, and I’m trying to save Anjuli from a lowlife scum like you,” he snarled at Garrett, his chest still heaving from the blow to his groin.

  “What the fuck do you mean by that?” Garrett demanded, tightening his grip on the man’s shirt. He did look familiar, now that he looked closer. He’d met him at Anjuli’s get-together that first fateful night they’d spent together.

  “You know exactly what I mean,” Scott spat in his face. “I know all about your past. Assault...murder...you should be in fucking jail!”

  Upon hearing that, Garrett’s hold on the man released, dropping him again to the floor. He glanced over to Anjuli, who was sobbing and clutching the towel around her as her wet hair clung to her skin. She shook her head, clearly devastated. “Please, just go,” she whimpered. “And take him with you...”

  Garrett started to speak again, but the look on her face stopped the words from spilling out. He grabbed Scott again by the collar, pulling him to his feet. Then he shoved him down the hallway and out the door, leaving the bags of groceries in a disarray on the floor outside Anjuli’s bathroom. He shoved Scott against the wall outside her front door, then stalked off down the hallw
ay and out to his car.

  He beat his fists against his steering wheel. The way his body responded when he saw Anjuli in Scott’s arms...it was hard to explain what it meant, what had caused it. He was filled with what felt like a primal instinct to kick the man’s ass. He didn’t know where it had come from, but it scared him. That impulse to destroy another human being, to rip into them and tear them apart limb by limb frightened the hell out of him. He had felt it before, so long before. He shook his head, trying to get the ghosts’ grip on him to loosen.

  And somehow Scott knew. He knew his past. And now Anjuli did too.

  Fuck this shit. I’m going to Washington. I can’t stay here anymore. There are as many painful memories here as anywhere.

  BWI was bustling even on a Sunday night. Garrett had gone home long enough to stuff some clothes in a bag. Chase and his boyfriend were cuddled on the sofa watching Netflix; Garrett offered them a brief hello, but they barely moved. It was dark in there, so Garrett wasn’t sure if they were otherwise occupied. He gathered his things and was out the door within ten minutes, then he raced toward the airport.

  He texted Jackson to say he was going to pay his father a visit, and he’d be there for at least a few days if he wanted to come out too. Jackson texted back to say he’d see what he could do.

  The show started again on Thursday night. He guessed he would decide by Wednesday if he was coming back, and if not, well, it wasn’t as though Nigel hadn’t thrown him under the bus in the past. What goes around, comes around, he thought to himself.

  He was able to get a flight that night, surprisingly. Only one short layover in Minneapolis, and he’d be home by morning with the time change. He didn’t know exactly what he planned to get out of his visit, but it didn’t matter at this point. He wanted to be anywhere as long as it wasn’t Maryland.

  What would his dad say when he showed up on his doorstep? He’d warn Lilly he was coming. And he’d already told Jackson. They would just have a great big ole Stone family reunion. Isn’t that what he’d always dreamed about when he was a kid? When Clark’s voice in his head was so loud, so demeaning, so disgusting, he’d dream about running away and finding his real dad.

  Now he finally was.

  Twenty-Four

  It was midnight, and Anjuli had finally convinced herself to go to bed. She was in that state of exhaustion so intense that one fights it with a vengeance. The entire day was flashing at her like strikes of lightning, little flashes of images and snippets of conversation, all set to the soundtrack of Chicago. “Cell Block Tango” overlapped with “Assault...murder...you should be in fucking jail”—Scott’s words to Garrett before she screamed at both of them to leave.

  It was too much to process, and she was still trying to compartmentalize the trip she and Garrett had taken to Alabama. At first she thought that trip had brought them together in a way she didn’t think they could ever be, but then she realized she was foolish to think a thirty-two-year-old man running from his past could ever want to settle down with an older, established woman on the cusp of grandmotherhood.

  And as for her physical issues, well, they were just that: issues. Nothing a trip to the doctor wouldn’t fix. Well, knowing the U.S. health care system as she did, it wouldn’t be a single trip. It would be a trip, some bloodwork, a few referrals, a couple more tests, a procedure, some waiting, and then maybe she’d have some relief.

  She’d called to check on Mishti right after her apartment emptied out. She noticed Garrett’s voice was echoing off the walls. She could hear his laugh, his stunning tenor voice singing “All I care about is love...” Obviously just a role, one of many he’d played in his lifetime, some of which he wouldn’t even tell her about.

  Had he really killed his mother and stepfather?

  She had to drown out that voice and those questions, so it was a welcome relief when Mishti’s soft soprano voice came down the line. “We set a date, Mom,” she announced.

  “Oh, yeah, when is that?” She mustered up some happiness, dusted it off, and injected it into her tone.

  “April twelfth,” Mishti said. “I’ll only be seven and a half months along, so I think that will be okay, do you?”

  “I’m sure you’ll make a beautiful bride, honey,” Anjuli remarked, trying to swat at the stinging tears in her eyes. Her eyes were already so swollen and sore. More crying wasn’t going to help that situation.

  “I just have a question for you,” her daughter said, her pitch rising a bit with excitement. She didn’t wait for her mother to respond before blurting out, “Will you be my maid of honor?”

  Now she had no choice about the tears. They welled up so thick, all Anjuli could do is look out through those watery lenses and agree to be her daughter’s maid of honor.

  “Thank you, Mom!” she gushed. “I have a couple of other girlfriends, but I really do consider you to be my very best friend. Jensen is going to have his dad, his brother, and his best friend stand up with him. So I think it’ll be perfect.”

  “Have you found a place yet?” Anjuli questioned. “Or made a budget? I can help you with whatever you need.” She had thought she’d be spending money on grad school for her daughter, not a wedding...but plans change. If anyone knew that, it was her. Besides, focusing on the wedding and the arrival of her grandchild would surely distract her from losing Garrett.

  And now Scott. What the fuck was she going to do about Scott, anyway? How was she supposed to work with him anymore?

  Back to Mishti. My beautiful Mishti.

  “I’m not sure about that, but Jensen and I are scoping out some places.” She got quiet for a second, then said, “I have my first doctor’s appointment next week, Mom. I’m so scared!”

  “It’ll be fine,” she reassured her daughter. “Is Jensen going with you?”

  “He said he wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

  Her daughter’s happy voice filled her mind, drowning out the things she didn’t want to think about as she settled in her bed. She wondered if her phone would buzz with a text from Garrett, but it didn’t. She fell asleep waiting for it, in fact.

  When she told him to get out, she was completely overwhelmed by the unwanted visit and advance by Scott, not to mention the frustration over the fact her soothing bath had become anything but. I should have called him last night and asked him to come back, she realized.

  What difference does it make? the other side of her brain argued. You just said yourself you’re breaking up with him after the show. It’s only a week away.

  Maybe they could do the show professionally, and the feelings would just fade away. They could dissolve themselves into their roles, become Roxie and Billy, and that would be that. They could shake hands at the end and walk off into the sunset. Only not together. Apart. Going our separate ways.

  She sent him a text in the morning anyway. Her bed felt so cold and lonely without him taking up three-quarters of it, she didn’t feel like she had any choice but to at least reach out and apologize for her reaction the night before. He was getting her groceries. He was trying to be nice.

  One week ago today, we were on a plane to Birmingham, she realized. It seemed like so long ago now, four performances and a weird visit from her co-worker later. Not to mention what Scott had said about Garrett’s past. She wanted to pull up google and search his name. See if she could dig anything up. She didn’t have Scott’s sleuthing skills, but if some kid in Washington state had killed his parents, she bet she could find something on it.

  But she didn’t do that. She didn’t want to know. And I’m breaking up with him anyway, she reminded herself.

  Still, he didn’t text back. She went to work, saw clients, tried not to glance at her phone. Failed miserably.

  Scott was not there, and she was grateful. She wasn’t ready to face him. She wasn’t sure if she ever would be.

  It got to be 6 PM, and still no word from Garrett. Mishti had texted her a photo of a wedding dress. What do you think of this? she asked. It had an empire
waist, presumably to accommodate a baby bump.

  She fought off a slight bout of jealousy that her daughter was getting married, something she had never gotten to experience. It was human to be a little envious that her daughter’s boyfriend wanted to be a father and wanted to marry her when her daughter’s father had wanted nothing of the sort...right? She chastised herself for even letting her mind wander in that direction. And then she texted Garrett again. Nothing.

  She texted Nigel a little after eight to ask if he’d heard from Garrett. She had this wild and disturbing thought about them being in bed together. Nope, came the reply. He better not be on a bender.

  By 10 PM, she still hadn’t heard from him and sleep didn’t seem to want to visit, so she left her apartment, braved the chilly November wind and walked the two blocks to the liquor store. Sure enough, Chase was working. She popped in, heard the bells chime over the door, and was met by his warm smile. “Well, look who the wind blew in! How have you been?” he greeted her.

  “Hi, there,” she beamed at him. There was no way not to smile at someone as good-looking as Chase. “How are things with your boyfriend? Did you enjoy the show the other night?”

  “You and Garrett were both AMAZING!” he gushed. “Seriously impressed with both of you. I assume Garrett has been hiding out at your house? I haven’t seen him in like a week.” He chuckled.

  “Oh, I thought he went home last night.” Her eyebrows arched as her heart began to pound. Maybe her suspicions of him being with someone else weren’t too far off.

  Chase looked to the side for a moment and squinted as if in deep thought. “You know what? He did come home for a few minutes last night. I was curled up on the couch with Trent. I assumed he went to bed because I don’t remember him coming back out, but then he wasn’t there this morning so—”