Decay (Phoebe Reede: The Untold #3.2 Declan Reede: The Untold Story #6)

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Decay (Phoebe Reede: The Untold #3.2 Declan Reede: The Untold Story #6) Page 4

by Michelle Irwin


  I’d seen the Facebook posts confirming their relationship, and had heard a little about him from Mum, but Phoebe hadn’t said too much more, so I wasn’t sure what Beau’s point was. “And what do you believe?”

  “I was under the impression they weren’t.”

  There was something he was hiding, and I was determined to get to the bottom of it. “Did Phoebe tell you that?”

  His expression fell and he turned away from me. “No. Not in them exact words.”

  I closed the distance between us. “What the fuck aren’t you telling me?”

  As he started to tell his story, the expression on his face—like he was about to shit his pants if I asked him for more details—made it clear that he’d slept with her. The last night they were together, they slept together and then he didn’t even fucking check on her when she didn’t contact him again? Didn’t even worry about lodging a missing persons report after she didn’t show up for over a week? How the fuck could he say he loved her and then treat her that way?

  “You took advantage of her?” It was the only thing that made sense. She’d gone to him in a desperate need to comfort him—because that was just her nature—and he used her in return.

  He tried to assure me that everything that had happened was mutual, but there was more to the story. There was no way I would’ve sat by complacently if Alyssa didn’t turn up somewhere she was supposed to be. He’d already said he thought Phoebe was playing games, but didn’t that just prove he didn’t know her? And if he didn’t know her, didn’t love her, he had no fucking right sleeping with my fucking daughter.

  “I—” A barrage of abuse leapt to my tongue about his behaviour, but it died on my lips. It wasn’t going to help anything. It wouldn’t help me find her. There was nothing more I could get from him. At least, not until I knew more and could force the truth from him. “I guess I’d better speak to this Xavier and the police.” I paused just long enough to ensure my next statement would stand out. That it would be the last thing he remembered of the conversation. “If I find out you’re lying to me though, about any of this, you’ll fucking pay.”

  I left the room behind me, leaving the cowboy standing in the middle of it with his mouth agape.

  “EXCUSE ME, MR Reede.”

  I was tempted to ignore the new voice calling my name, but the thought that anyone could have the clue that gave away Phoebe’s whereabouts made me stop. “Yes?”

  “May I speak with you for a moment?” The kid’s words sounded forced.

  It took me a second to place him. He was the one from the Facebook post with Phoebe. Xavier. Despite the situation, his eyes were clear of concern as he traced a hand through his dirty-blond hair.

  “It’s about your daughter.” His lips curled up at the edges.

  “Sure, but make it quick because I need to get to the police.”

  He stood up straighter. “Police?”

  I glanced around. There were too many curious eyes around to tell him what I knew and why I needed to talk to the police. “Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  He led me to a lunchroom. Around the edges were a series of benches and in the middle was a small table with four seats. I didn’t wait for an invitation before taking a seat at the table. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

  “I wanted to introduce myself. I think it’s important to get to know my girlfriend’s parents.”

  Surely that wasn’t the reason he’d stopped me from leaving to see the police? Just to introduce himself? It was hard to be polite when that was the case. “Is that all?”

  “I also wanted to let you know that Phoebe’s okay. She’s just taking some time away. She spoke to me and let me know she needed to get away from . . .” He trailed off and stared at his hands. “A situation around here.”

  “I’m aware of the situation here.” It was possible I might have been more aware of it than he was, based on what Beau had said.

  His gaze lifted to mine and something burned in his blue irises. “So you know Beau has been stalking her?”

  My heart stopped. “What?”

  “Yeah, I haven’t been able to say anything because Beau is like a hero around here.”

  “What exactly do you mean by stalking?”

  “He’s been turning up at her apartment unannounced and calling her all the time. He’s even approached me a couple of times to try to get me to leave her alone. I don’t know what his problem is.”

  My stomach churned as his statement settled over me. Were all of Beau’s assertions about what had gone on between him and Phoebe nothing more than the product of an overactive imagination? Had he been obsessed with her? I tried to push my worries out of my head and cut to the facts. “He tells a different version of events.”

  Xavier crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back. “He would. He’s a bad influence on her. Like on New Year’s Eve when he tried to force her to kiss him.”

  I needed to change the subject before I completely lost my cool and charged back into the fucker’s office to demand answers. “You said you spoke to Phoebe. When?”

  A grin flickered across his lips again. “Uh, a little over a week ago. She said she needed some time to think about things before we could be together.”

  “So you think she’s just gone away and hasn’t let anyone know where just for the heck of it? Do you even know her at all?”

  A shadow passed over his eyes. “Of course I do. We’re meant to be. Only . . .” He placed his crossed arms on the table and rested his forehead on top. A sob left him a second later.

  I jerked away, wondering where the sudden shift had come from.

  “She . . . she lets him hurt her.” He sobbed again. “She puts herself in harm’s way.”

  “How?” Even though all I wanted to do was grab his hair and lift his head to force him to look at me, I waited for him to continue.

  “Like just before she went away, she called me to cancel our date. She said she was going down to Georgia to help a friend. Beau.” He said the name with so much hatred it was clear something was going on between the two of them.

  “I’ve already spoken with him, and he’s confirmed she was down there with him.”

  “I don’t know why she kept trying to be friends with him,” Xavier muttered with a dark tone as he sat up again. “He hurt her. Over and over again. He told everyone here that she was . . .” He stared at his hands that he wrung together over and over. “That she wasn’t pure,” he whispered. “And that she was free with her affection. He tortured her every day.”

  I clenched my fists. Beau had almost had me convinced with his Mr Nice Guy routine, but he’d hurt my baby. I would make him pay.

  “He’s made her life hell on earth, and she couldn’t free herself of him, no matter what she tried. It wouldn’t surprise me if he . . .” Xavier trailed off before leaning forward. “Hurt her.”

  “What do you think happened?”

  “I want to believe she’s okay. That she’s just doing what she told me she was going to do when we were on the phone. That she’s just getting away for a while so we can be together.” When he glanced up at me, his eyes were free of tears, but the occasional sob still wracked his chest. “But if she’s not. . . If she’s hurt . . . If something bad happened to her, it’s his fault.”

  I nodded my agreement. After all, she’d come to the States chasing down the dream of having something with Beau. Anything that happened to her was his fault.

  And mine for supporting the fucked-up endeavour. The only reason I had let her leave was because I’d worried she’d take off on her own and elope or something. That she’d do something impulsive and crazy to be with the object of her desire. I’d thought it was better that she test the waters with our assistance. At least that way, she wouldn’t have cut ties in desperation.

  I dismissed Xavier with a thank you for the information and sat in thought until my phone rang, pulling me back to the present. Whe
n the display showed the call was from Alyssa, a chill rushed over me. It was the middle of the night for her.

  “Any news?” she asked.

  “Why are you up so late?” I frowned as concern over what might be going on at home rolled over me. “You need to be taking care of yourself.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Dec. I’m doing the best I can, all things considered. Nikki needed a drink, so I thought I’d call you while I was awake. Now, will you please tell me what you know?”

  “Not a lot. No one here seems to have any answers, just a load of bullshit. This Xavier kid says one thing. Beau says something different. Their stories don’t really gel.”

  “So you think one of them is lying to you?”

  “I don’t know what to think, Lys. I just want my little girl back.” My voice cracked and my mind went into overdrive. Every worry I’d had about Phoebe’s safety buffeted against my sanity. “We shouldn’t have helped her do this. I mean, what if she doesn’t have her medication?” Each word was tinged with a little more insanity than the last. “What if she’s alr—”

  “Dec, calm down.” Alyssa’s voice was filled with the same panic I held. She needed me to be calm for her as much as she needed it for me. “Just try to focus on what you need to do. Just talk to the police and her building manager like you planned. Maybe you’ll find something at her place that will help clarify things.”

  “Fuck, maybe. I wish you were here with me, Lys. You’d help me make sense of it all. I can’t do this alone. I—I can’t lose her.”

  “I know. But the last thing we need is for you to panic. It’s not going to help anything.”

  “Yeah, I know. How’s everyone there coping?” Before waiting for her response, I added, “Honestly.”

  “Honestly? I don’t know. Beth cried herself to sleep the last two nights. I want to help her, but other than saying Phoebe is strong and will come home when she can, what can I say? She wants to know if Phoebe hates us now. Angel rang to organise a way of getting Phoebe’s key back to her, and I couldn’t lie to her so she hung up in a panic. It’s a mess.” A small sob echoed down the line. “I just don’t know what to tell any of them.”

  “Do you still think we did the right thing by telling them she was missing?”

  A sigh slipped from her. “Who knows, but if we didn’t say anything and it came out later, how would they feel?”

  “No secrets. No bullshit.” It was the way we’d tried to live our lives. Secrets and hidden agendas had pulled us apart, or threatened to, too often when we were younger. “It’s better that way.”

  “Exactly. That doesn’t make it—”

  There was a crash behind me, pulling my attention away from the phone. I spun on the spot to see what it was.

  Beau was just a few steps away, charging further into the room. His sandy hair stuck up in all directions as though he’d been raking his hands through it and his eyes were wild. It was as if he’d realised I’d spoken with Xavier—as if he knew the lies he’d told were unravelling in front of him.

  “I’ve gotta go,” I said to Alyssa. I’d disconnected the call before she had a chance to respond. I dropped my phone down onto the table, and charged at the arsehole. “You’ve got some damn explaining to do!”

  He held his hands up in surrender. “Before ya say anythin’, I need to speak.”

  My top lip curled into an involuntary sneer at the lies he’d told. No doubt he was now worried he’d been caught out. “Why should I let you say anything?”

  “Because Phoebe would.”

  “How dare you speak her name after what you put her through!”

  As I launched myself at him, he twisted out of the way of my strikes. I couldn’t land a punch on the slippery fucker as he started to name each member of our family and the way he thought Phoebe’s disappearance might have affected them. Each name hit me like a physical blow, and a reminder of the way I’d failed them all.

  A rush of thoughts exploded through me. How did he know all their names so readily? Xavier had said Beau had been stalking Phoebe; was his knowledge proof of that? Had he done something to her, and now desired to hurt the rest of my family?

  “You’re a sick bastard!” I spat at him. “Why would you say those things?”

  He straightened his back and met my eye. I had to respect that at least. “Because you might not think I do, but I know your daughter, sir. I know that family is the most important thang to her. That she’d take any sufferin’ in the world if it could save y’all from feelin’ it. That no matter where she is, or what might be happenin’ to her, y’all will be at the very front of her thoughts.”

  His words pierced deep into my heart. The truth in them was almost blinding. I wondered if he’d intended them as weapons.

  “She always talks about y’all in every interview she—” He cut himself off and his eyes widened. He muttered something under his breath.

  Before I could figure out what his issue was, he was on the phone talking to someone named Jess. I had no idea what had caused the abrupt change until he mentioned an interview with Phoebe and asked for a copy of the footage.

  Of course!

  She’d been scheduled for the interview, I recalled seeing it on the calendar, but I hadn’t thought what might be on there. I hadn’t even considered it might contain an insight into her thoughts in the days before she called in the middle of the night.

  God, I’m a stupid fucking idiot!

  My heart started to race at the implication and I couldn’t risk Beau’s stumbling request for a copy ruining my chance to view that insight. Not when I had a sure-fire way to get access. Getting his attention, I held out my hand for the phone. He told his contact he was passing her on to someone else.

  Before she could get a word in, I spoke, “This is Declan Reede. I believe you interviewed my daughter for a feature recently?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Uh-huh, and when was that?”

  “Last Saturday at Richards Racing headquarters.”

  I nodded as I turned away from Beau. I couldn’t stand the eager-to-please expression on his all-American Boy Scout features. It almost made it easy to forget he was responsible for whatever happened to Phoebe. “I need to see the raw footage.”

  “That’s highly unusual. We generally—”

  I cut her off. “Well, I’m sure you’re aware of the clause in Phoebe’s contract that allows her or her management team access to any and all footage and photographs, and to revoke any permissions based on non-compliance.” It was a generic clause Alyssa had built into every contract featuring our family. We’d had enough negative history with the paparazzi and media we couldn’t control, that we wanted full control over the things we could.

  “Oh, really? I haven’t seen that clause, are you sure—”

  “I can assure you it’s in there. Now, it’s rather important that I get access to this footage, so when will you be able to send it?”

  “I’m sure you’ll understand that I’ll have to check the contracts.”

  “I understand, and when you find and confirm the clause, how soon can you get the footage to me? It is rather urgent.”

  “If you want all the raw footage, I can probably get it to you this afternoon. Will that be okay?”

  “Yes, and a delivery to Richards Racing will be fine. That’s where I’ll be based for the short term.”

  “I’ll get it done as soon as I can.”

  I thanked her before hanging up the phone.

  When I handed Beau his phone back, I was torn between needing to thank him and wanting to make him see the risk he’d taken in talking to the press when we still hadn’t put out any official statement about Phoebe.

  If the media got hold of the story before there was official word, it could easily spiral out of control and Phoebe could end up as the focus of a media shitstorm. “That could’ve been a foolish move,” I said. “You risked bringing a reporter into this before the police are even involved. But she confirmed that Pho
ebe was up here in North Carolina like you said. She’ll send the footage over.” I was going to leave it there, but I couldn’t. Ultimately, he had helped. “Thank you for getting her on the phone.”

  After accepting my thanks, he asked a question I could barely believe. He wanted to see the footage. As I listened to his pleas, I was torn. The way he spoke about her, it was easy to believe there was something more there. His voice was almost tender, cracking when he said he was in love with her.

  But was it all a lie? A sign of the obsession Xavier spoke about?

  I’d been suckered in before by lies and my own willingness to give people the benefit of the doubt. My own father had fucked me over that way. I squeezed my eyes shut as memories of our last conversation, and regret that I could never bridge the gap that had been scored between us, played over in my head. So many lies. So much hatred. I could only hope he’d found some happiness before the end. I was so lost in thought, I was barely listening to Beau anymore, and was caught off-balance during his plea to see Phoebe’s video because he needed to see her again.

  “. . . they just remind me of the trouble we’ve had since her friend Max tol’ me he was her boyfriend.”

  “What?” I covered the distance between us, the need to clarify what he’d said overriding everything else.

  Beau’s confused chocolate gaze met mine.

  “Who told you what?” I asked.

  “Her friend Max.” Beau’s Adam’s apple bobbed and his hands found his hair. “He told me they were together.”

  “Our Max?” The words confused me. The thirteen-year-old son of my best friends, Morgan and Eden, had told Beau he was involved with Phoebe? Every piece of information only led to more questions. More confusion. I’d always thought my relationship with Phoebe, and the one Alyssa shared with her, had left our daughter able to talk to us about anything. I’d always believed there were no secrets between us. No lies. Now, all I had was confusion and more questions than I’d received answers to. “I don’t understand. Why would he say that? When did you speak to him? What the fuck is going on?”

 

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