Fixing Fate: A Pleasant Valley Novel

by Anna Brooks

  Smith comes down just as the doorbell rings. He signs the receipt, collects the food, and then brings it in to me. “Still no word yet?” I ask.

  “Nah. He’ll be fine.”

  “What’s the deal with you guys, anyway? I sensed some... tension, this morning.”

  “Really?” He grabs a piece of pizza. “No tension. How’s your book coming along?”

  Another change of subject. I’ll give it to him. No way would I force someone to talk when they don’t want to. I’ve been in the same position before, and it sucks. “Umm, yeah. So. About that. I can’t keep—”

  The front door flies open so hard it hits the wall. Smith jumps up and swears. “Erik, Jesus, man.” He jogs over to him, and I follow. I shut the door and silence the alarm while Smith helps Erik stand by wrapping one of his arms around his shoulders. “How did you get here?”

  “Got a ride... two of ’em.” He laughs then burps.

  “You need to stop this, bud.”

  “Hey, there’s the pretty girl who makes delicious muffins.” His lids are so heavy I’m surprised he can even see me.

  “Up to bed, asshole.” Smith practically drags him up the stairs.

  I don’t know if I should go with, so I just head back to the living room and wait. Several loud thuds come from upstairs, and I mute the TV and listen. I can’t hear anything clearly, but Smith’s voice is angry, and Erik doesn’t even say anything. Or if he does, I can’t hear it.

  When heavy feet stomp down the stairs, I turn the volume back on and try to pretend I wasn’t just eavesdropping. Smith doesn’t sit next to me but stops at the end of the couch. “You good if I go to sleep?”

  “Of course. Is everything okay?”

  Worry I’ve never seen on him before shows how stressed he is right now. He has creases between his brows and a clenched jaw. “Yup. Just tired.”

  “Yeah, okay. I can come up now, too.”

  “No.”

  I sink further into the couch, and he rubs the back of his neck. “I just mean you don’t need to. You can watch TV or whatever. Don’t go to bed early because of me.”

  “Oh... okay.”

  “’Kay. Night.” He turns on his heel and walks away without even giving me a kiss good night.

  Chapter 17

  Smith

  I feel her crawl into bed a couple of hours later and I pull her close, amazed at how just holding her releases so much tension. Erik is going off the damn rails because it’s the anniversary of their death tomorrow. I’m fully aware of it, but rather than dwell on it, I pretend the day doesn’t exist. Not that either option is a healthy way to handle it.

  She falls asleep before I do. After tossing and turning for a little while, I finally get pulled under, only to wake up a few short hours later. I crawl out of bed and pull the covers up to her chin then head to the bathroom. Normally, on this day I would busy myself with other things. If it’s not work, it’s a woman. Anything to keep my mind off it.

  When I get back out in the bedroom, she’s sitting up. “Everything okay?”

  I could just stare at her all day. I’ll never know what the hell I did to get so lucky to have such a beautiful person—inside and out—care about me like she does. “No. I mean yes. Everything’s fine.” I walk over to her and kiss the top of her head. “I just couldn’t sleep. Go back to bed.”

  “I think you should go to the house without me,” she blurts.

  “What? Why?”

  She pulls me down, so I’m sitting on the edge of the bed. “I love spending time with you, but Smith… I can’t get any work done with so many distractions. The past few weeks have been tough. I’m getting behind.”

  “I’m not leaving you alone.”

  “Come on; there haven’t been any sightings in almost a month.”

  I shake my head. “That’s because they haven’t had a chance to get to you, Mellie. Just because they’re quiet doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten.”

  “I don’t want to live in fear again.” Her voice drops, and she plays with the ends of her hair.

  “You don’t have to. It’s my job to make sure of it. Which is why you’re coming with in a couple of hours after you get up.”

  “Smith... no. I’m not.”

  My stubborn girl is pushing my buttons this morning, and I’m already on edge, so I take a deep breath. “Baby, I’m not arguing with you about this.”

  “Erik’s here, right? So I won’t be alone. You have an alarm and guns. Please.” She tugs on my arm. “I’m so far behind on work and… God, I’ve been alone for so long. I can’t continue being around all those people, those men, all day.”

  The fuck? I know my guys wouldn’t ever put their hands on her. “Did someone say something to you?”

  “No, no,” she adamantly disagrees. “But my anxiety is starting to come back, and I just need some space. Being around them and trying to pretend I’m comfortable is driving me crazy.”

  How did I not notice that? Man, I’ve spent so much time making sure she’s safe with me that I didn’t once consider how she felt being around my guys. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

  “Because I like being with you. The guys are nice to me. And I wanted to try and be normal for once in my adult life.”

  “You are normal. Don’t for one second think that you’re not just because you like time to yourself.” Should I let her? I mean, it’s not like I’d ever force her to do something she didn’t want to do, but I’m only doing what’s best for her and her safety right now. I want to finish this flip, so she can put it on the market and be done with it. “Let me talk to Erik, okay?”

  “Okay. Thank you.” She yawns, and I get up while she lies back down and almost immediately falls back to sleep.

  Once I quietly slip out of the room, I open Erik’s door and find his bed empty. Downstairs, I discover a hungover man drinking tomato juice, obviously regretting his choices last night.

  “How ya feelin’?” I joke as I pat his back, walking to the fridge.

  “Like ass.” He clears his throat. “Sorry about last night. I just remembered what today was and got pissed off when I walked around the house and didn’t see one fucking picture of them, so I left.”

  “I have pictures. I just don’t put them out.”

  “Why? They were your family, Smith.”

  “I know that, but I don’t need pictures to remember them. Every fuckin’ minute of the day, I see things that remind me of them. Every damn time I look in the mirror, I see her staring back at me. I don’t want any more reminders.”

  He shakes his head and sets his glass down a little harder than necessary. “Seven years, man. Seven fucking years.”

  “I know.” I slide a bottle of aspirin across the island at him. “So I’ve got a favor.” Since I’m not going to talk about what this day really is about, I change the subject and give him the rundown on what’s been going on with Mellie, up to the last detail I’ve heard about Richard. Unfortunately, that included giving him some personal details I’m afraid will upset her. But for Erik to know the severity of the situation, I made a judgment call.

  “So he’s out there somewhere. And so is that other fucking piece of shit? What the fuck?” An explosive side of Erik I haven’t seen in a long time emerges, and I’m not sure if it’s good or bad for his health.

  “Richard is still out of town on business. Or whatever the hell he’s doing. All the intel Gerald gathered about him points to a very unstable man. He doesn’t have any violence on his record, and his work history is legit, so he’s thinking he’s more creepy and harmless than violent. I, on the other hand, disagree with Gerald. I think Richard is a time bomb.”

  I got the information about the woman he lives with. She is not his wife, but a woman he rescued from the streets. He gave her a house and feeds her in exchange for her playing the role of housewife. An odd arrangement but no signs say he’s an actual physical threat to her. The more concerning factor is that Norman is nowhere to be found. S
till.

  “What do you need from me? And fuck, man. Why didn’t you tell me right away?”

  All I need to do is raise a brow, and he nods in acknowledgment. “Right. I’m a drunk.”

  “You been to a meeting lately?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe you should go. I can go with if you want.”

  “Thanks, but it’s something I need to do on my own.” He stands, and in a very unusual gesture, he pulls me in for a hug and pats my back. I reciprocate because I love this stupid dude, and I wish I could have my best friend back. “Do what you need to. I’ve got her.”

  “Thanks.”

  He grabs a water out of the fridge and walks away.

  “Remember where I keep my weapons?”

  “Yup. Won’t need them, though.” He cracks his neck.

  “Later. I’ll call ya.”

  Satisfied he’ll take care of anyone stupid enough to try, I set the alarm and lock the door behind me then take off to the house.

  Mellie

  I gasp when I wake up after having a bad dream. I can’t remember what it was, but that feeling of dread is crawling up my spine. Like a million little spiders I can’t get off.

  My phone reads 9:50, and I have two missed texts. One from my brother saying he’ll be here in a few days. I’ll be so happy to see him again; I’ve missed him so much. The other message is from Smith telling me Erik is here, and I am under strict orders to stay inside the house. I reply with a heart, and he immediately answers back and says the house is lonely without me.

  After getting ready in the bathroom, I go down to eat and grab my laptop before I start my work. I have to finish one manuscript and then edit a piece an author just sprang on me last minute.

  Mouse is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. “Hey, little girl.” I pick her up, and she nuzzles her head against me. “You hungry?”

  “I already fed her.”

  She hisses and jumps out of my arms then scurries out of the room. “What the hell?”

  Erik laughs. “Sorry, I think I scared her.” He starts to say something else, but the doorbell cuts him off. “Stay here.” A determined scowl replaces his laughter. When he gets to the door, I hear the beep of the alarm then an exchange, followed by the door shutting and the alarm getting turned on again.

  “Someone’s turned into a big sap.” He laughs.

  I finally let out the breath I was holding when he rounds the corner with a vase filled with roses.

  “Aww.” I rip the card out when he passes me.

  Miss you.

  My cheeks hurt from the smile on my face. When I finally look away from the card, Erik is shaking his head and suppressing a laugh. “My man’s turned into a pussy.”

  “Has not. It’s sweet.”

  “Whatever. I’m gonna go watch ESPN.”

  I put my nose in the beautiful bouquet and love the fresh-cut smell. I send Smith a text with a heart and a flower. He doesn’t reply right away, so I continue getting some food. After I eat, I grab my laptop off the table in the corner where it’s charging. “I’m going upstairs for a while.”

  Erik leans forward and gives a little salute. “I’ll be here.”

  * * *

  I’m amazed at the amount of work I finished today. The setting sun alerts me to the fact I haven’t moved in hours. My back and neck are killing me, so I wrap up the chapter I’m on and go downstairs to eat. Erik already has the leftover pizza box out.

  “Good timing,” he murmurs, between a mouthful of food.

  “I guess so. I’m starving.”

  “I can imagine. You’ve been up there all day. Working hard?”

  I take a bite of pizza and point at my mouth, indicating I can’t answer him.

  “Sorry,” he says. “I hate when someone asks me a question right when I take a bite of food. Like at the restaurants when the waitress asks you how things are while you’re chewing.”

  I swallow and laugh, nearly choking. “Yes. It’s so annoying.”

  He hands me a bottle of water, and I chug half of it right away.

  “I meant to say, that’s what happens when I get in my editing mode. I kind of go into another world, and before I know it, hours and hours have passed.”

  “That’s how I get when I’m training... or was training.”

  “Training for what?”

  “Fighting.”

  “Oh.” I sit on the stool and grab another slice. “What kind of fighting?”

  “MMA.”

  “But you don’t fight anymore?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  He looks away from me and clenches his jaw.

  “I’m sorry. That was rude. You don’t have to tell me.”

  “No,”—he shakes his head—“it’s okay.” He takes a big breath and nods to himself. “I just… I couldn’t go on without her... without them. I wish I could have been like Smith, but I just couldn’t.”

  When he raises his head and his gaze connects with me, I sit up a little straighter. “I’m sorry, Erik. I really am, and I don’t mean to seem insensitive, but who are you talking about?”

  “He didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “Fuck. Shit. Fuck.” He runs his fingers through his hair.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “He’s gonna be so mad.”

  “Erik, what?”

  He pulls out his phone and scrolls through something for a minute and then hands it to me. I take it and almost drop it the second I read the headline.

  Family dies in freak accident.

  In an unfortunate turn of events during last night’s storm, a family was killed in their home. An estimated almost one hundred-year-old rotted oak tree collapsed during a wind gust and split the home in half. The family was said to have died instantly. Names are not being released yet, as the next of kin is being notified. We will keep you updated with further details as they become available.

  “Oh, my God.” I cover my mouth and drop his phone. “Oh, my God.”

  Erik leans against the counter, a single tear rolling down his cheek. “She was the only one…”

  “This was his family? Why didn’t…? He never told me.” Things start to click—conversations he avoided, subject changes he not-so-subtly worked into our talks.

  “She was everything; she was all I had.”

  I witness a grown man crumple. He literally falls to the floor, and his entire body shakes with every wheezing breath he takes. I crouch down next to him and can’t help the tears that roll out of my eyes too. It makes me remember my own parents’ demise and how Jay had to lift me off the floor when he told me what happened.

  With a hand on his back, I try to offer him encouraging words, but I know it doesn’t mean shit. After several long minutes, he stands and grabs a bottle from the cupboard. I should probably tell him to stop, but he’s obviously still grieving.

  “Today’s the anniversary. Seven years.” He takes a swig of vodka straight from the bottle.

  “Jesus,” I mumble. “He didn’t tell me.” I’m so mad at him right now, too. I understand not wanting to talk about stuff, but it would have been nice to at least fucking know that his entire family was killed in a tragic accident. It explains so much about the man he is, and I instantly understand him more.

  “He won’t. He likes to pretend they didn’t exist.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  He carries his bottle to the living room, and we sit on opposite ends of the couch. The silence that stretches is more than uncomfortable, so I welcome the distraction when he flicks on the TV. A stupid sitcom plays, and neither of us laughs. I’m not paying attention to him, but all of the sudden, he throws the bottle across the room.

  The glass shatters, and he stands up and punches the wall until a hole forms, and his knuckles are bloody. “She was pregnant.”

  I hold a hand to my rapidly beating heart. “What?”

  “Sophia
. She was pregnant. She told her family she was dating someone but never told them who. I kept dragging her along, keeping her a dirty little secret, but then she got pregnant. That night… God, that fucking night!” He screams. “She was supposed to be with me!”

  “Erik…”

  “We got in a fight. She wanted to tell everyone, but I wanted to wait. She begged me, but I was a stubborn fuck who wasn’t ready to be a dad or to be tied down, even to her. For years she tried to convince me we were meant to be together, but I always strung her along. I yelled at her that night, kicked her out of my apartment. If it wasn’t for me she wouldn’t be dead.”

  The fastest I can, I’m trying to process everything. “Does Smith know?”

  “Fuck, no. He never would have approved of me being with her, much less her having my kid.”

  I doubt that. “You need to tell him. Erik, if he knew, maybe he’d—”

  “It won’t change anything. It won’t bring them back. It won’t bring her back. It would just cause him more pain knowing he could be an uncle right now. And I could have prevented his sister’s death.”

  He crumples again, and I rush over to him. I wrap my arms around him and try to rock his big body back and forth. I can’t imagine what he’s going through, how difficult it must be not only to lose your family but your unborn child, too. He cries into my shoulder, and I rub his back.

  He’s wrapped his arms around me, and as he calms down, his arms loosen. “Thank you,” he whispers.

  “Of course.”

  He stands up and wipes his eyes then holds his hands out to me. When he pulls me up, he does it with a lot of strength, and I find myself plastered against him. In a show of support, I hug him one more time.

  “Everything will be okay,” I whisper. “You need to tell—”

  “What the fuck?” Smith’s thunderous voice gets louder as his footsteps get closer. “Get the hell off her.”