by Autumn Reed
“No, really, Brooke. It’s like there’s a fire burning in those eyes of yours that wasn’t there before. Hmm,” he tapped his chin with his finger, “you’re not getting back with your mysterious ex, are you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. I had never elaborated on the specifics of my “breakup,” but Noah was caring and didn’t want to see me hurt again.
I rolled my eyes and laughed. “No, we haven’t spoken in months.” More like eight weeks and two days, but who’s counting?
“New man in your life?” he asked, batting his lashes hopefully, flirtatiously, before I swatted at him with my towel. I honestly couldn’t imagine dating anyone. My heart was still too full of memories of Chase, Knox, Theo, Jackson, Liam—and, yes, even Ethan—to even contemplate it.
Over the past few weeks, Noah and I had spent a lot of time together at work; I was grateful for such an easy-going and fun co-worker. He was an incorrigible flirt, but once I made it clear I wasn’t interested in anything more than friendship, he backed off.
“I’ve been watching this crazy show on Netflix, Making a Murderer. Have you heard of it?” I asked, changing the subject as I refilled the stack of coffee cups. Noah was studying criminal justice, and I had been trying to figure out a way to ask him questions related to my dad and DuBois without raising his suspicion. The last thing I wanted to do was get anyone else involved in this mess.
“Um, yeah. We saw a clip in one of my classes last semester and I knew I had to watch it. Have you finished it yet?”
“Not yet, so no spoilers,” I said sternly, prompting Noah to mime zipping his lips shut. “I do have some questions about it, though, since you’re the criminal justice expert and all.”
“Shoot.”
“So, clearly it’s possible to appeal an old case if you’re the accused, but what if no one has been accused? What happens with a case that’s gone cold and was never brought to trial?”
“Well, there would have to be enough evidence to charge someone with the crime, and the crime has to be within the statute of limitations; otherwise, you’re out of luck.”
“So the statute of limitations . . . it’s like a cut-off for charging someone with a crime?”
“Exactly.”
“Is there a time limit for charging someone with murder?”
“For the most part, no.”
“What about drugs?”
“Drugs are trickier because there are a number of factors that come into play—state versus federal laws, whether the offense is considered a felony or not, etcetera.”
“That doesn’t really seem fair,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t sound bitter. “If you do the crime, shouldn’t you do the time?”
“I agree, but the law has to balance a number of competing interests in the pursuit of justice.”
“That’s a rather philosophical attitude,” I said skeptically, weighing Noah’s answers in my mind. While I would love to nail DuBois for every terrible thing he had done, apparently Dad needed to find recent evidence against him or somehow prove he’d committed murder to put him away for good.
Chapter 20: Knox
Monday, July 6th
Staring at the flat screen mounted above the bar, I watched the baseball game without really seeing it, all the while wishing Theo hadn’t talked me into coming out with him. When he’d arrived home from the campaign office, he insisted that it was time for me to stop being a “hermit” and tried to convince me to meet up with a few of his friends for drinks. That wasn’t going to happen, so we’d compromised and were now on our second round of beers at a low-key sports bar.
I shifted my gaze and found a couple of college-age girls ogling me. One of them bit her lip in what I assumed was intended to be a sexy, come-hither move. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes at her, I turned my attention to the beer bottle in my hands. Even before Haley, I wouldn’t have been interested in what she was offering. I wasn’t into playing games or hooking up with random girls.
Scrubbing my hand over my face, I realized that I’d managed to let my usual scruff grow into a beard without noticing. I must have looked as haggard as I felt. It’s a wonder those girls gave me a second glance in my current state. They probably think they can fix me or something.
Theo returned to our booth and placed a whiskey on the table in front of me. When I eyed it warily, he pointed to his water. “You need something stronger than beer tonight, and I’m good to drive, so no arguments.”
I mentally checked my calendar for tomorrow and, deciding there wasn’t anything pressing scheduled for the morning, I tossed back the glass, reveling in the burn of the whiskey down my throat. Of course, that just reminded me of my birthday, when Haley practically choked after tasting my drink. I had been well on my way to getting drunk that night and remembered feeling sheepish the next day when I realized how forward I had been with her, pulling her into my lap and inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo.
As my mouth twitched into a grin at the memory, I knew I wouldn’t change a thing about that night if I had to do it over. After spending so much time alone with her while Theo was in LA, I’d already started to think of her as mine, in spite of my best intentions to keep her at arm’s length.
“Where’d you just go?” Theo asked me curiously.
I gave him a knowing look. “Where do you think?” I had fought my feelings for Haley for so long, but something about her leaving pushed me over the edge. There didn’t seem to be any point in denying or hiding them anymore.
He smiled, but I detected a hint of sadness behind it. “This stupid plan of ours is taking too long. I am so tempted to fly up there and drag her home today.”
Nodding, I replied, “If I wasn’t certain that getting Douglas out of the way first was absolutely necessary, she would already be home.”
More than anything, I wanted her sleeping down the hall from me again. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. I’d rather have her sleeping in my bed every night. But, knowing she was nearby and safe would go a long way to easing the constant anxiety I’d been dealing with since she left.
“How are things going at the campaign office?” I asked.
Theo sighed. “Good, just not fast enough. I’m hoping to get my hands on everything we need by the end of the month, but that may be a little optimistic. It would help if Jim was out of his office more often. It’s difficult to sneak in there when he’s always on his phone or computer.”
Jim was Douglas’s campaign manager and spent most of his time at the San Jose campaign office. Theo had been slowly hacking into Jim’s records to gather evidence that Douglas was accepting improper contributions. Although he had found a few useful financial records, Theo was convinced that the number of improper contributions would double over the next few weeks based on conversations he’d overheard by bugging Jim’s phone. It might not be enough to completely tank Douglas’s political career, but it would at least distract him for the foreseeable future and keep Haley from being an ongoing target.
“You’d think that Douglas’s campaign manager would be more careful with his record-keeping, considering the illegal nature of his activities.”
Theo scoffed. “You know the type. Believes he’s above the law and getting caught. Makes my job that much more fun.”
“Hello,” a female voice purred. I looked up to find the two girls from the bar standing next to our table. Apparently they didn’t notice or accept my earlier brushoff. “Can we buy you boys a drink?” the lip-biter asked with a sultry smile.
Theo gave me his I’ve got this look and pleasantly responded, “That’s nice of you, but we’re good.”
She pouted, and this time I didn’t bother disguising my annoyance. “Then maybe we can join you?” she asked, pointedly eyeing the empty spaces in the booth. “In case you change your mind.”
Theo gave her a fake smile and said, “Sorry, but we’re having quality brother time this evening.”
The very persistent girl opened her mouth again, probably to argue, so I interrupted. �
�And we have a girlfriend.” Why did I say it like that? Like we have the same girlfriend?
The quiet friend dragged her away, and I slumped in relief. I would never understand the practice of trying to meet people in bars. Ridiculous.
“We have a girlfriend, do we?” Theo asked with his mischievous grin.
I groaned. Of course he wouldn’t let that go. “You know what I meant. I just wanted her to leave.”
Theo’s expression turned pensive. “Have you given the whole all-of-us-dating-Haley thing any more thought?” Before I could respond, he continued, his words tumbling out in a frenzied jumble. “Because, I have, and I don’t like it. Imagine what it will be like if she chooses Chase, which she definitely could, because they would be adorably sweet and perfect together. He lives with us, Knox. I don’t know if I can handle watching them all blissed-out happy every day. Will he move out? Will she? What if they get their own place? And don’t even get me started on what will happen if she chooses Liam. She’ll probably spend all of her time at his penthouse, and we’ll never see her again. I don’t want to get her back just to lose her. I can’t.”
When he finally stopped speaking, I downed the rest of my whiskey and sighed. “I know. But, what are we supposed to do? It’s an impossible situation.”
Theo opened his mouth like he was going to say something but then shut it again. The truth was, there was nothing left to say. We had to either compete for her heart or let her go, and both options were incomprehensible. Even if she chose me, could I live with the guilt of knowing I stole her away from my brother and best friends? And, if she chose Theo, Jax, Chase, or Liam, would I ever get over her?
Chapter 21: Haley
Wednesday, July 15th
With the highway stretched before me, I couldn’t comprehend how thirty miles could feel so unbelievably endless. In fact, in the two weeks since I finally heard from my dad and insisted that he meet with me, my grasp on the passage of time had disappeared, to be replaced by a jumble of hours and days that were nothing but a blur. I still wasn’t quite sure how I had made it through my shifts without a major mishap and was thankful that all the waiting, worrying, and wondering was nearly over.
After pulling into the gravel lot nearest the trailhead where I was meeting my dad in twenty minutes, I put Noah’s car in park and tried to relax. Since I was automatically scheduled to work Wednesdays, I’d asked Noah to cover my shift and borrow his car. He must have seen the desperation in my eyes, because he’d taken advantage of the situation and agreed on one condition. One very big condition.
I still can’t believe I let him convince me to perform at open mic night, I thought, groaning. Foolishly, I must have given him the idea by unwittingly singing along with the radio at work.
Tempted to sit there and obsess over my upcoming performance, I forced my thoughts back to more immediate concerns. I was filled with so many emotions warring to take over, I didn’t know which one would ultimately override the others. Would I be happy when I finally saw my dad? Angry? Relieved? Elated? I honestly didn’t know.
Grabbing the small bag I’d packed with lunch and bottled water, I got out of the car and checked the posted trail map. When I estimated that our meeting place was only a half-mile away, I suddenly felt a zing of energy flow through me, and I picked up my feet, needing to be there as soon as possible.
Rounding a bend, I made out the figure of a man with his back to me in the distance ahead, and my heart leapt to my throat. I didn’t need to clearly see his features to recognize my dad; his stance alone gave him away. Without a second thought, I ran toward him, holding my bag against my side. I wanted to call out, but I couldn’t seem to find my voice.
Seconds before I reached him, he finally turned around, and a joyous smile lit his face. I dove into his arms, and he pulled me in tight, softly saying my name. Tears that I hadn’t even realized were falling soaked his shirt as I held on. His embrace felt both familiar and foreign, his arms and chest bulkier than I remembered. At least I know one thing he’s been doing since he left me, I thought bitterly. Working out.
When I pulled away, I wiped at my damp cheeks and studied my dad carefully. His hazel eyes were the same, but I noticed more fine lines surrounding them and a few new glints of silver running through his dark hair. He had even grown out his facial hair, a full beard replacing his usual scruff.
He seemed to be assessing me just as closely, and a faint smile touched his lips as he tugged on the end of my braid. “Going for the goth look now?”
I rolled my eyes. “Black hair dye alone does not a goth make, mountain man. And, seriously, we haven’t seen each other in almost a year, and the first thing you say to me is about my hair?” I asked, my tone laced with exasperation.
He chuckled, but his expression grew serious. “Would you believe that I’m nervous?”
“You? Nervous?”
“Yes,” he responded almost sheepishly. “I’ve been worried that you hate me now. Not that I would blame you.”
I gave him another hug. “I could never hate you. But, you have some serious explaining to do.”
“I know.” He gestured to a trail veering off the main path. “I thought we could go on a hike to a nearby lake. It’s a simple five-mile loop and should be very private.”
“Sure. Sounds good.”
Dad picked up a backpack and started down the narrow dirt trail. I followed behind, trying to pull my thoughts together. Now that I’d gotten over the initial jolt of seeing him again, the anger and fear that had been simmering below the surface for so many months began to bubble up.
“Are you going to tell me where you’ve been?” I asked suddenly, harshly.
He halted, then turned to me, his expression pained. “I’m so sorry. I messed up. I should have prepared you better for something like that happening, established a safe place for you to run to.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I should have known.”
“Do you even know what happened?”
“Some of it.” His gaze sharp, he asked, “Do you?”
I sighed. Where to even begin? While we walked, I slowly described everything that happened that day from my perspective. My panic at hearing the explosion and then finding our house in flames, not knowing whether he was still inside. When I got to the part about waking up in a cabin with strange men, I watched my dad warily, unsure how he would react when I explained the guys. How much should I tell him? I wondered.
Deciding to gloss over some of their more incriminating actions, I told him why the guys were involved in the whole mess and how much they’d helped me.
“Then you moved to Santa Cruz with them?”
I was so focused on avoiding the kidnapping part of the story, it took a few moments for his question to sink in. “How do you know about Santa Cruz?” The shock in my voice was tinged with anger. Dad knew where I was the entire time? Impossible.
“Does El Segundo mean anything to you?” he asked.
I nodded. “Gerald Douglas tracked you to a motel there, and Knox and Ethan went after you, but you were already gone.”
“I wasn’t. Gone, that is.” He stretched his neck, something he did unconsciously when deep in thought. “I knew I risked exposure with what I was doing in El Segundo and was being extra cautious. So, when I got back to the motel to find two men walking out of the office who reeked of law enforcement or some type of security, I took notice. I snuck up behind them and heard your name; they were discussing what to tell you and both seemed pretty upset.”
Shaking his head ruefully, he said, “I came really close to confronting them and demanding an explanation for how they knew you, but I had no idea who they were and couldn’t chance it. They sounded worried about you, so it didn’t seem like they were an immediate threat to you, at least. I found a business card they left with the front desk and started researching Zenith while watching them from afar over the next few days.” He sighed, and his expression let me know that I wouldn’t like what he said next. “When it was clear
that they’d left the area, I went to San Jose.”
I gasped. “You were in San Jose? Last November?”
“Yes, I stayed there for almost a week and checked up on you. Found out that you were working at Zenith and living with Knox and Theodore Bennett—something I was not pleased about, by the way. But, I was so relieved you were safe and appeared to be happy, that I tried to ignore that you were living with two men and spending time with several others.”
“Dad,” I said, punctuating the word by crossing my arms over my chest with angry jerks. “Who cares who I was living with? You knew where I was eight months ago and didn’t let me know. Didn’t contact me at all. What the hell?”
He looked surprised by my mild expletive, but I didn’t care. Never once in all the months since he disappeared did I believe that he actually knew where I was. He allowed me to live in a constant state of worry over him for no reason. Again, what the hell?
“There were too many unanswered questions, Haley. I suspected Douglas was behind the men who showed up in Coleville, but I didn’t know for sure how Zenith fit in. I didn’t want you to get pulled into all of this any more than you already were. So, I made the decision—as impossible of a decision as it was—to let you be. I get why you’re upset, but I thought it was for the best.”
“Did you ever think about letting me decide what’s best for me? I’m not a child. I understand the severity of this situation and can make my own choices.”
Dad chuckled. “You may legally be an adult now, but you’re still my little girl. That hasn’t changed. Besides, doesn’t the fact that I left you to fend for yourself for all this time prove that I’m letting you be an adult?”
“Wow, letting me be an adult. Did you just think of that?” I said sarcastically.
His eyes scanned over me, zeroing in on my face. “You’re different.”
“Different bad?”
“No,” he said slowly. “Just different. More confident, for sure.”
