Trust

by Casey Diam

  I mused as he pulled out of the parking lot. “You know, for all these years, I didn’t want to believe I could be the daughter of Carrie and Peter Wells. But, since you, since yesterday, it’s all I can think about. I want it to be true now. So, now, you could say I’m hoping that I was actually kidnapped. How shitty is that?”

  “I know, but we’re going to get through this,” Caleb responded, even though he couldn’t wait to get away from me last night.

  We’d talked for a bit more at the apartment about anything that could help us connect the dots. But, after failing in that department, we’d settled for, we looked nothing alike. That was stupid to think, but it was the only thing that could comfort our minds. At least, for a little while. He could be the child of either Leanne or David, my alleged kidnappers. But, in that case, he would be related to David’s side of the family since my mom had had absolutely no musical talent. But then, that would cancel out his adopted father’s story about his mother having an affair unless it was with another musician with dark hair and eyes. Then, something else I hadn’t thought about came to mind.

  “What if you weren’t adopted?” I said.

  Caleb had on a pair of rectangular designer sunglasses, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but I liked it because it helped. His eyes had this way of searing into me, and since yesterday, it’d been hard to deal with, especially knowing it was wrong to feel anything at all for him besides what should be okay for families to feel. At least, until we had the facts that said otherwise.

  “What if you were kidnapped?” I continued, “I mean, you know, if Alex Connor is heartless enough to take out an entire family, who’s to say he didn’t kidnap you?”

  Caleb nodded. “That’s good, but why would he kidnap me?”

  He came to a stop about two blocks from the gym, and I groaned. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it more at work.” I cranked the door open, and at the same time, an impatient driver honked at us from behind. “Ugh. Seriously, I want to stand here a second more just to piss off whoever is honking.”

  He grinned. “Since karma already has it out for us, I don’t think you should push it.”

  “Yeah”—I rolled my eyes—”you’re right. Later.”

  “Okay, be careful.”

  “I will.” I smiled, and for the first time since the revelation, I knew we could actually get through this, no matter what—at least, I hoped.

  Graham called me into his office as soon as I stepped foot into the gym.

  “Ham... burger. I’m going to have it for lunch today.” I beamed because there was always time to throw in a ham joke. It was stupid, but it always worked up Graham, and I knew he loved it even though he pretended not to. “I heard about the new warm-up drill.”

  Graham’s head tilted, and his lips pressed together. “Well, Roxie and the team have you to thank for that.”

  “Ouch. I’ll be sure to stay out of the Dungeon during sparring and grappling sessions for a while then.”

  “That would be advised.” He laced his fingers together and set them on a stack of papers before him. “Anyway, there’s a new member who has requested you for a few personal training sessions.”

  “That’s great.” I smiled, already looking forward to my next paycheck.

  “Well, the problem is—or it might not be a problem, but he’s in shape, as in excellent shape from what I could tell. That makes me wonder why he would request you. I even suggested a more suitable trainer for his sessions, but he declined. Anyway, I don’t trust this guy. Let me know if he harasses you in any way.” Graham handed me a clipboard. “First session is in fifteen minutes.”

  My chest constricted, but I nodded before rushing to the locker room and into one of the bathroom stalls. Blood rushed to my head, and I leaned against the stall. Why am I freaking out? It could be anyone. But it also could be not just anyone. It could be one of them. In here, at my job. I needed this job. These people were my... work family. My breathing grew shallow, and I tried to control the trembling.

  It’s okay. I inhaled. It isn’t anyone. He’s probably just a normal guy, and even if he isn’t, I’m surrounded by a bunch of people. He won’t harm me here. I can do this. Everything’s okay.

  I looked down to the clipboard when my breathing calmed.

  Brad Clark.

  As I waited by the receptionist desk for the client, a familiar face walked up. The same guy I’d bumped into last week or something.

  “I’m here for my personal training session.”

  My throat clogged at the sound of the even more familiar voice. “Yes! Hi. I’m Paige, your trainer.”

  “I know. I requested you.” The warm grin stretching across his lips was a contrast to the cold tingling up my spine.

  “Interesting. Well, let’s get to it then, shall we? Follow me.” I walked into an available office to start the consultation. “Before our sessions officially begin, I just need to get some information. Can you step on the scale, please?”

  My eyes drifted to the spiderweb tattoo around his elbow. Stepping next to the scale, I slid the bar across the top until equilibrium was met at one hundred ninety-eight pounds. I could feel his gaze down on me, and I tensed, moving away to sit at the desk.

  I need this job. I love this job. I love this place. The Dungeon—my safe house is here. My favorite people to work out with are here. Why is he here? I can’t quit. I don’t want to. Dammit.

  “Okay, Mr. Clark, you may have a seat. This should take only a few minutes.”

  “Call me Brad, please.” Amusement lit his face, but the muscles in his jaw twitched.

  “Right. So, what are you looking to accomplish during our sessions?”

  “Endurance.” He scratched his nose with his index finger and sighed. “I don’t have a lot of patience. I always want to get right to the point, you know? I think it’s time I learn how to enjoy the ride.”

  Nice innuendos, douche bag.

  Good thing I was skilled at distracting people from the truth, Caleb being the exception. All because I couldn’t hold it together around him, but everyone else, they were a piece of cake.

  “Well, I think I might have a few tricks up my sleeve, Brad. You think you can go for an hour?”

  He chuckled and nodded. “I guess we’ll find out.”

  After a weird but okay training session with Brad, I worked for a few more hours at the reception desk. And, before leaving the locker room, I placed the red tube of my past I’d been storing in my work locker into my backpack. It was 6:00 p.m., and the last few hours, I hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that I needed to find out more about the people who, for years, I hadn’t wanted to believe could be my parents.

  So, finding a private corner outside of the gym, I called the local police station, hoping someone could help me.

  “Boston PD. How may I help you?” a female answered.

  “Hi, um... I need information about two people who were killed not long after I was born. They were supposedly my parents, and I wasn’t open to learning about what had happened to them before, but I was wondering if I could come in and talk to someone who could help me. I just want to know what happened,” I explained.

  “What is your name?”

  Fidgeting with the hem of my hoodie, I shook my head as the strange name fell from my lips. “Madelyn Wells.”

  “And what were the names of your parents?”

  “Carrie and Peter Wells.” I responded.

  “One moment.” About five minutes later, she came back on the line. “There is someone here who can assist you now if you want to come by.”

  ❧

  “Can I see some form of ID?” asked the older man standing behind the tempered glass-framed desk at the police department.

  I slipped my ID through the small opening at the bottom of the glass while he made a phone call.

  “Miss Wells is here.” He returned my ID. “You’ll need to go through the scanner. The officers over there will assist you.”

  I looked
over to my right at the security checkpoint that resembled the ones at airport terminals and froze, my body temperature increasing as I thought about my weapon.

  “Place your bag in a bin and remove anything you have in your pockets.”

  I moved forward one step at a time when relief suddenly hit. I’d left my weapon at the apartment this morning. I carried it around so much, I usually didn’t think twice about it wherever I went. But, with the doctor’s appointment and me getting off work before darkness would set in today, I hadn’t carried it. I removed the knife from my pocket and placed it on top of my bag.

  “Please step forward.”

  Why am I so nervous?

  I needed to do this. I had to find out.

  A female officer with natural red hair pulled back into a tight bun, dressed in a black uniform, and roughly in her thirties approached me. “Hello, Madelyn. I’m Sergeant Bailey. Grab your stuff and follow me.”

  I slung my backpack over one shoulder as I followed, looking around the open office setting. Out of the ten desks in the area, only three were occupied with officers flipping through files and typing away on their computers.

  “Deputy Superintendent Rodriguez is really the one you want to talk to.”

  As Sergeant Bailey continued to talk, I reflected on why the name sounded familiar. Rodriguez?

  “It was her case almost twenty years ago. But, since it’s a weekday and I didn’t have anything going on, I figured I might be able to help. The case was closed eighteen years ago, and there wasn’t much inside the record because there wasn’t much to the case. So, if you have any other questions, we can direct you to D.S. Rodriguez. How does that sound?”

  D.S Rodriguez...

  Chelsey. Drunk. Party. Sex with Caleb in his car, accident—no, not accident—the flashlight. Then, Officer Rodrig—wait, Rodriguez. Shit.

  As she reached what I assumed was her desk, she turned to me for an answer—

  “Oh! Deputy Superintendent Rodriguez,” Sergeant Bailey said, looking over my shoulder.

  My torso rotated enough for me to see the approaching woman. I twisted back around and stared at the back wall, feeling trapped as I swallowed because in the room was the same woman who’d walked up to Caleb’s window that night on the highway. Bailey’s words circulated through my thoughts.

  “It was her case almost twenty years ago... the case was closed eighteen years ago, and there wasn’t much inside the record because there wasn’t much to the case.”

  I needed to get out of here. Fuck.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Caleb

  Monday evening was...terrible.

  This was where fascinated customers sat closer to the stage, watching the two girls covered in a red hue, teasing their bodies around the stage floor in G-strings. The purple velvet lounge chairs at the back of the strip club were more private, and I was starting to understand little by little why Brad wanted to sit back here.

  “So, this is what you do?” I remarked, my eyes still trained on the stage. It was less awkward than looking next to me at the girl in a bra and a pleated miniskirt, giving my brother a lap dance.

  “You say it like it isn’t normal,” Brad said. “Honey, have the bartender fix us another drink.”

  “Okay,” Honey said, standing from between Brad’s thighs.

  “Not gonna lie; Honey is probably the classiest stage name I’ve ever heard,” I remarked, watching the girl sashay her way through the tables to the bar.

  Brad grinned. “Oh, yeah, lots of sauces here tonight. Which one are you craving? Mustard? Honey Mustard?”

  “No fucking way.” I chuckled, and surprisingly, it was genuine, but my being here wasn’t. I inhaled as my heartbeat slowed. The dryness in my throat spread into my mouth, and I made a chewing motion before I swallowed. “Is there something in these drinks?”

  “Nah, you’re just a lightweight.”

  “I guess.” I swirled the small amount of liquid left in the tumbler before tossing it back. Then I set the empty glass onto the table. Damn, it is hot in here. Leaning my head back against the cushion, I tugged my tie loose, remembering the reason I was here. “Or is this how you take the edge off?”

  “Nah, this is me having a good time, but I’m guessing that’s why you’re here.”

  The plan was to get inside Brad’s head, but I hadn’t taken into account the level of tolerance he had for both drugs and alcohol.

  “Yep. You got me. I needed to try something else,” I told him.

  “But this is the first time you’ve ever gone somewhere with me without being forced.” He was watching the stage, as I was. “What do you want?”

  “Nothing.” After a moment, I said, “I always wondered what it would be like to meet my biological family, but I don’t think that’s ever going to happen. So, since I’m stuck with you, I might as well try to make the best of it, right?”

  The air stilled around us as the dancers climbed the poles onstage, tightening their thighs around them and then simultaneously dropping their torsos back, leaving them to go into little spins upside down.

  It felt like a whole minute had passed before Brad spoke. “If our parents didn’t accept us before when they gave us away as babies, how do you think they would feel about us now?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek because I was guessing the same story had been told to Brad about his family not wanting him either.

  A waitress followed behind Honey, holding a small tray with a set of tumblers. She set the fresh drinks on the table and picked up the two empty glasses. Her eyes found mine. “Would you like some company, sir?”

  Shaking my head, I picked up my drink. “No, thanks.”

  My eyes trailed up her legs to the edge of her petite dress.

  Distraction, a voice whispered. A voice I hadn’t heard in a while.

  I swallowed. “I’m good.”

  Honey resumed her position over Brad’s lap while I swallowed the entire contents of my drink. As I set the empty glass on the table, my whole body started to tingle. I relaxed back into the silky cushions as Honey set her knees on either side of Brad’s hips to the left of me. Her pelvis moved around, and Brad’s hand moved between her legs. Everything paused around me as I focused on what was happening next to me. I wasn’t a regular at strip clubs, but I knew there had to be some hands-off policy. But I was proven wrong when Brad went farther and shifted Honey’s underwear to the side, massaging her naked flesh.

  “What are you doing?” She tried to jump away, but he wrapped an arm around her back, gripping her to him.

  “Shh, you like it,” he said, continuing to rub her.

  I looked to the girl’s face for any signs of discomfort with Brad’s forceful behavior, but her eyes fluttered closed as she continued to grind herself on his fingers.

  “That’s it,” he encouraged.

  My cock swelled, and I cupped the rock-hard package imprisoned in my underwear as I watched his fingers move over her clit. With my heartbeat banging against the walls of my chest, my hand formed a semi-circle around my cock and squeezed. Thoughts of Paige coursed through my mind, and my cock throbbed. Cursing under my breath, I removed my hand from my crotch. Something wasn’t right.

  “What did you give me?” I asked just loud enough for my question to be heard.

  “Fuck, did you chug that?”

  “You said nothing was in there. What the fuck was it?”

  “I lied. What did you expect? Everyone might think we are family, but we aren’t, and you know it. We’re business colleagues. Nothing more, nothing less. You’ve always been a hindrance, and Dad knows it. It’s only a matter of time, Caleb. The truth’s going to come out sooner or later. I’m only helping you to the finish line.”

  What was he talking about?

  After a moment of listening to Honey’s heavy breathing in his hold, I knew he was done talking. As everything began to move around me, I rose from the seat in slow motion, holding on to the table to steady myself. When I made my way o
ut of the club, dusk was starting to set in. With my heart still pounding, I flagged down the first cab I could make out in my blurring vision and quickly told him my address before the substance flowing through my system took over. I managed to find my way into the apartment and dropped onto the couch.

  My phone rang, and I clumsily swiped my fingers across the screen. When I held the phone to my ear, it took me a minute of saying, “Hello?” into the receiver to realize I hadn’t answered the call.

  It rang again, and I peered at the screen until I was sure I’d successfully answered it this time.

  Holding it to my ear, I answered, “Yeah?”

  “KP caught me,” Calvin said.

  “What?”

  A female’s voice screeched in the background. “KP? Really!” And then she was louder. “Mind explaining to me why I’m being followed, Caleb?”

  Clarity came for a second. Paige.

  Short of breath, I whispered, “Sorry.”

  “Are you okay, dude?” Calvin asked.

  “Yeah. Just come to the apartment.”

  I didn’t know how long it took Paige to get to the apartment, but Calvin was with her. The both of them stared down at me, looking as confused as I felt.

  “What’s wrong with him?” she asked.

  “Drugs. Do you want me to stay?” he asked.

  My eyes followed their heads as they looped upward and then melded into one.

  “I don’t know how long it’ll take. I guess we could try giving him lots of water.”

  The room started to spin around me—or was it the couch? Not wanting to fall off, I held on. As the couch tilted with me, I shifted to the higher side, and when that side started to slope downward, I moved over to the other side again. I grabbed on, but the couch spun faster in circles, tilting until it was vertical with the endless darkness below. I was slipping. I couldn’t fall into it.

  ❧

  When my eyes opened hours later, I was lying on my stomach in bed. The bedside lamp was on. I shifted and turned. Paige was lying next to me on her stomach, and she was propped up on her elbows as she read a textbook. Her ponytail swung to one side of her shoulder as she looked at me. I admired her for a few seconds in her usual tights and an oversized shirt. As I regained my senses, I remembered I had been wearing a suit, not the white T-shirt I wore beneath my dress shirts or—I lifted the sheets—boxer shorts. I hadn’t been in my boxer shorts before.