Relentless

by Mike McCrary

  Hattie’s eyes bore through Davis. It’s that look, the one that’s come up in the last few days, the one he never wanted or wants to see again. Now it’s commonplace.

  Davis hears Justin’s words rattle in his head. The words he said that violent night in the lake house driveway. He said he told Davis when they first met what he was going to do.

  “I don’t know that I can flip a switch and go back,” Hattie says.

  Davis’s mind fumbles for the words Justin said that night at the hotel bar.

  Trust is the main thing. You spend a lifetime building it and can lose it in the blink of an eye.

  “How do I believe what you say to me now?” Hattie asks, tears forming.

  If you remove the trust between people, there’s nothing to hold on to. Don’t you agree?

  “How am I supposed to trust anything you say?”

  A cold rush rises up through Davis. He stares lifelessly at his wife. Justin told him what he was going to do—make Davis destroy the trust between him and his family. Something that can’t be repaired or restored by money.

  “Your brother and sister are here. They’ll help you get home once the doctors say it’s okay.” She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m taking the girls to my parents for a while.”

  Davis nods. “For how long?” he barely gets out.

  “Not sure. I need… I need some time.”

  “Can I see them?”

  “This has been hard on them, Davis. Real hard. They cry during the day, they have nightmares.”

  Realizing he’s the reason for the pain he’s caused his wife and his children, an enormous weight of sadness hits him, crushing down on him like a piano dropped from above.

  “You’ve been out for a couple of days. They didn’t like seeing you like this,” Hattie says. “They said their goodbyes last night. They drew you some cards. They’re over there.”

  Davis glances toward a roller table by the bed. Next to the water pitcher are two folded pieces of paper with crayon drawings sprawled across them. Bright, wonderful colors were used with great care to create words like Daddy, Get Better and Love.

  “Hattie,” Davis says, his voice cracking, “I understand, but you can’t. This is what he wanted to happen. You’re giving him exactly what he wanted.”

  “Who?”

  “Justin.”

  “Davis, that—"

  “He wanted this to happen. This was his whole plan.”

  “His plan was about money. Period.”

  “Yes, of course it was about money. But destroying us is what he was doing for fun. To amuse himself. It was like entertainment to him. You can’t let him win.”

  Hattie looks at him. Eyes hard. Completely stripped of feelings. “I can’t believe you.”

  “It’s true. Please don’t do—”

  “I didn’t do a damn thing. You did.”

  Davis slips back into the pillow, mouth open, nothing to say.

  “I gotta go,” Hattie says. As she reaches the door, she stops. “I talked to the company, the money manager. They’re not happy with the bad press, but they’re still honoring the purchase agreement. Not sure they could get out of it even if they wanted to.”

  “Hattie—”

  “Congratulations, we’re rich.”

  She leaves the room.

  40

  The weeks after the hospital weren’t easy.

  The long hours of rehab.

  The endless regimen of medications.

  The nights void of sleep.

  The therapist has helped Davis in a lot of ways. It took a few visits for him to buy into the process, to get comfortable with the idea of talking with her about everything. Not something that has ever come naturally for him, but he’s made some respectable progress recently. Unwinding the work of Justin and friends was first. It was difficult, hard work, but they’ve managed to untangle some other less obvious issues that have plagued Davis for a long time as well. Things he didn’t even know he was hanging on to.

  His brother and sister have been good to him. A level of kindness and understanding he never imagined possible from them. They don’t ask a lot of questions, letting him tell them things when he wants to talk. As his strength has returned, they have been coming around less and less.

  The emptiness of the house is starting to weigh on him now. The open space seems endless.

  As the number of pain meds he’s been taking becomes fewer, his feelings are becoming more unavoidable. Less numb than before. He hears his girls playing in the house when they aren’t there. He smells the smells of meals they’ve shared. He thinks of when he and Hattie bought this house. Choosing the things they needed, deciding where those things would go. Weighing what they could afford and the lively discussion about the things they could not.

  He shakes his head, thinking of arguments over nothing, letting the water rinse away the soap from his healing body. As he steps out from the shower, he carefully pats dry the healing wound on his shoulder with a towel. The cuts and scrapes have all but healed, but the mark from a gunshot to the shoulder is going to be there forever.

  A parting gift from Justin. A constant reminder.

  Davis stands in the closet staring at the choices that hang in front of him. He selects a shirt—she never liked that one—chooses another, then another. He remembers Hattie said he looked good in that one.

  He’d ask the girls what they thought, if they were here.

  He had a meeting with an attorney and an accountant about a week ago. A long meeting to go over everything. He’s had a few calls with them before, but the meeting in person was the big one. It was the first time Davis felt strong enough to talk about it. All of it. They went over the sale of the company, the finer deal points, and all the final paperwork dealing with Todd’s death.

  Todd’s death.

  When the attorney said those words, Davis wanted to run from the room. Instead, Davis sat stone-faced during most of the meeting, listening to all the work that had been done without his knowledge or his input. A mixed bag of emotions if ever there was one. Sadness, anger, regret all packed up nice and neat. He held it all back, held on to it all while he was there, but when he got home after that meeting he let it all go.

  It happened the second he shut the door and set down his keys and papers from the lawyers. If he was being honest, it happened when he noticed the dog wasn’t even there. The dog that greeted him usually before anyone else. The girls wanted him with them. In the silence of the house, his feelings came roaring out, could not be stopped this time, flooding out in tears, beating on walls, followed by time sitting quietly in the dark thinking. Everything he needed to let go of ever since LA, and even before, was released and set free from inside of him.

  Davis gets into the car, backs out of the driveway. The Pixies play on his way to the restaurant in downtown Portland. A place Hattie always talked about going to. A trendy sushi place he’d always said he’d take her to, but never did.

  He arrives at the restaurant a few minutes early, wanting to be there before she gets there. He thought of buying flowers, but thought it would be too much. He toys with the idea of having a whiskey at the bar to loosen up, but thinks better of it. Even allows himself to snicker at the thought. Must be getting better, he thinks.

  Checking his phone for the third time, he breathes in deep. She’s late. He taps the edge of the phone on the table.

  Did she reconsider? Can’t blame her. Who wouldn’t?

  The waiter checks on him again, asking if he’s sure he wouldn’t like a drink from the bar. He says he’s fine.

  The minutes crawl.

  He thinks about texting her, maybe calling her, but stops himself.

  A woman and man enter and sit at the table next to Davis. They’re young. The guy’s nervous. So is she. They exchange awkward comments about how nice the place is. He gives a joke that falls flat. She laughs like it was the funniest thing ever. He tries not to let his eyes bug out when he sees the prices.r />
  Davis smiles, remembering his first date with Hattie.

  He checks his phone again.

  She’s not coming. It’s too soon.

  Maybe we’ll try again, he tells himself.

  Davis tries to get the waiter’s attention, already thinking of an excuse to give him.

  Hattie turns the corner. Sight of her starts a flutter in his stomach. He smiles to himself; he’s as nervous as the kid next to him.

  Hattie turns, sees him seated in the back.

  They lock eyes.

  Davis bites his lower lip.

  Hattie cracks a smile.

  Enjoy the book? You can make a big difference…

  Hope you enjoyed Relentless and thank you so much for reading. Reviews are a big help to smaller authors and can make all the difference in the world. As much as I wish I could, I don’t have the financial firepower of large New York publishers.

  (One day perhaps.)

  What’s stronger than their money are readers like you. If you enjoyed this book please take a minute and leave an honest review. Doesn’t cost a thing. Doesn’t have to be long. Just a few words and pick some stars.

  Thank you again.

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  Also by Mike McCrary

  The Steady Teddy Series

  Steady Trouble

  Steady Madness

  Remo Cobb Series

  Remo Went Rogue (Book 1)

  Remo Went Down (Book 2)

  Remo Went Wild (Book 3)

  Remo Went Off (Book 4)

  Stand Alone Books

  Genuinely Dangerous

  Getting Ugly

  Acknowledgments

  I say the same thing with each book and I will continue saying it until it stops being true. You can’t do a damn thing alone, so I’d like to thank the people who gave help and hope during this fun and self-loathing little writing life of mine.

  The list of those people is insanely long and keeps growing by the day. The idea of leaving someone out and listening to them bitch later is a little more than I can take on right now, but I’ll point out a couple.

  I would like to pass along a special thank you to Sean Platt. If not for Sean this book would not have happened. Period. From idea to developement, Sean was huge. So, thanks Sean as well as the amazing people of Sterling & Stone.

  Thanks to the fine folks that hang out with me at Bcon. You’ve saved me from giving up on more than one occation. Thanks to the editors and keepers of the faith, Elizabeth A. White and J. David Osborne. Johnny Shaw, Jammie Mason, Mathew Fitzsimmons, and Scott Montgomery for listening to me whine and bitch during this book and others. Let’s just go on to say I am very thankful to all of you who’ve been a part of this writer thing. I am truly grateful to those people who have helped me out and talked me off the ledge more times than I can count. This is me being honest, no bullshit here. Hopefully you know who you are.

  Also, if you’re reading this right now you deserve a big-ass thank you from me as well. Even if we’ve never met, you’ve been cool and kind enough to grab a copy of my book and give it a read and that, my dear friendly readers, deserves the biggest ACKNOWLEDGEMENT of them all.

  Thanks, good people.

  About the Author

  Mike has been a waiter, securities trader, dishwasher, investment manager, and an unpaid Hollywood intern. He’s quit corporate America, come back, been fired, been promoted, been fired, and currently, from his home in Texas, he writes stories about questionable people making questionable decisions.

  Keep up with Mike at…

  www.mikemccrary.com

  mccrarynews@mikemccrary.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  RELENTLESS copyright ©2018 by Mike McCrary

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission from Mike McCrary.

  Published by Bad Words Inc. www.mikemccrary.com