by J. H. Croix
My eyes rolled to the ceiling of the truck. Funny how he was always crazy busy until he wasn’t. Apparently. “I don’t have time. Do you?”
“Hell no,” he scoffed. “Of course not, but I’ll make time. We need to talk.”
“I’m on my way to get a part I need for an urgent repair. You can come with me to get it, but I need to go now.” There. The ball was in his court. I didn’t mind if he rode with me to pick up the part, but I also knew there was no way he would. Not on a Monday morning.
“Sure, okay. I’ll come with you. Pick me up at my office.”
I frowned so hard, I was afraid the line might be permanently etched between my eyebrows. “Are you serious?”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said, mild offense edging his tone. “I’m serious. Come pick me up, and we’ll talk.”
“Uh, okay.” Of course, I was surprised. I hadn’t seen Beau on a Monday morning since… Fuck. I couldn’t even remember. Before he finished high school maybe. Not even during the trial had he shown up at the courthouse in the mornings.
When I got to his office, he surprised me again by waiting for me outside. He was on the phone, his crisp, professional voice assuring a client he would have their design by the agreed date, but he wasn’t including any suggestions made by the new age consultant about how to utilize space in a more aura-friendly way.
I bit back a laugh as I listened to him. Shooting me a glare, he finished up his call. “If you’re not happy with that, you can take your business elsewhere.”
When he tossed his phone on my dashboard, I laughed. “Must run in the family. I told a customer the same thing yesterday.”
“You told a customer you weren’t going to alter a design you’ve spent months working on because some dimwit said the balcony blocked good juju?” He lifted a brow, the corners of his crinkling with a grin.
“Nope, told her if she wasn’t happy, she could take it somewhere else.”
Beau smirked. “Ah, yes. Telling people to shove it has become something of a specialty of mine. If you want good juju, try being a nice person. My fucking design has nothing to do with it.”
“I hear you. At least people don’t automatically assume you’re overcharging.”
Turning in his seat, he tucked his chin closer to his chest and gave me a look. “Are you kidding? I get that every day. People don’t want to pay for anything anymore. Always think they should be getting it cheaper, but try using cheaper suppliers and things don’t last. Then you’re a hick who doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
“Amen to that.” I turned onto the main road out of town and cranked the AC when we got on the highway. It was a clear day outside, only a slight breeze rustling the tall trees flanking the road. I glanced at Beau, who seemed to be deep in thought as he studied the landscape rolling by. “As much as I enjoy hearing I’m not the only dishonest scammer in town, you said we needed to talk?”
He let loose a deep breath, puffing up his cheeks. “I wanted to talk about Dad.”
“What? Why?” It wasn’t such a big surprise, but after years of Beau and I not talking about our father, it sure felt like we were spending too much time on him lately. “Did he call you?”
He shook his head. “I heard he was in trouble.”
“That’s nothing new.” The man was in prison, for crying out loud. Trouble surrounded him every damn day. I didn’t know who his cellmate was or even if he had one, but given his situation, our dad probably slept next to trouble every night as well as being surrounded by it every day. “Why do you give a shit?”
“I tried to talk to him, Ev,” Beau admitted, running both his hands through his blond hair. His jaw was tight. “When I heard, I reached out to him, but he wouldn’t see me.”
“Why the hell not?” The man had been trying to get ahold of me for weeks. If he was so desperate to speak to someone, he should’ve let Beau come to see him. He wanted to, apparently. “And since when do you want to visit him?”
“I don’t want to see him,” Beau said. From the way his one knee was bouncing, I knew he was getting agitated. “I do want to help him, though. He’s still our blood, our dad.”
I scoffed. “When it suits him to be. He seemed fine getting into all this shit by himself. What’s he gotten himself into now?”
Beau lifted both shoulders, shaking his head. “I don’t know, but I remember you said he called you.”
A sense of foreboding trickled through me, making my fingers twitch on the leather cover of my steering wheel. “And?”
“Whatever is going on with him, I want you to help him.”
My head jerked back. “Why would I do that?”
“He’s our dad, Evan. I think he needs our help.”
I’d never been so happy to see my supplier’s shop as I was in that moment. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”
Beau pulled out his phone and started making calls while I parked and went to get the parts. He was still on the phone by the time I got back, arguing with someone over the placement of a staircase. It must’ve been one of his partners because when that argument ended, another began.
He mouthed “sorry” to me, but I wasn’t sorry at all. Let him have all the meetings he wanted on our way back to town. I sure as shit didn’t feel like getting back to the conversation we’d been having on the way over here.
When he finally ended that call, he turned back to me as his phone started ringing again. He grimaced. “I’m sorry. I have to take this.”
“Go right ahead.” We were almost back to his office. As far as I was concerned, we’d talked about what he’d wanted to talk to me about. I wasn’t changing my mind about my answer, so there wasn’t any use in talking about it anymore.
I parked outside of Beau’s office to drop him off, marveling a little at one of the newest, more interesting buildings in town. For an architect’s firm, they hadn’t settled on simply moving into offices. They’d built their own, and the modern design was something I always liked when I came here, which, to be fair, wasn’t very often. Beau told whoever was on the line to hold on as he pulled on the door handle. With one foot out the truck, he said, “If you get another call from Dad, answer it. Or better yet, go to the penitentiary. He needs us, Ev.”
He hopped out without waiting for my answer and pressed the phone back to his ear, waving as he jogged across the sidewalk and into the building. I stared after him, not believing he’d told me to go to the damn prison.
There was not a fucking chance I was doing that, not in a million years or however many Dad had left of his sentence.
Chapter Eight
Sadie
“Are you sure I can borrow your car?” I asked Lori, meeting her eyes in the reflection of the mirror above my dresser as I pinned my name tag to my janitorial uniform.
She was sitting cross-legged in the center of my double bed, tracing the paisley pattern on the gray comforter with her finger as she watched me get ready. Her black-rimmed eyes lifted when she smiled. “Of course. Don’t worry about it. You’re welcome to use it for as long as you need it.”
Patting down the skirt of my drab brown uniform, I smoothed the pleats and stepped away from the mirror. “Evan said my car would be done on Wednesday. Let’s hope he delivers on his promise.”
She shrugged. “When you’re at work, I’m here anyway, so it’s no problem.”
“Thank you.” I bent down to give her a quick hug. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Nah.” She smiled. “Just a kickass babysitter.”
“And a stellar best friend,” I added.
Lifting her wrist to check her watch, her eyes widened. “If I was such a stellar best friend, I would tell you to move your sexy ass because you’re going to be late. Night shift starts in thirty minutes.”
Cursing under my breath, I grabbed my purse and Lori’s keys. “I’ll tuck Emery in, and then I have to be out of here. I should be back at around the usual time.”
Lori raised her fingers to her fore
head in a quick salute. “Then I shall be here until around the usual time. Now go, supermom. I’ve got this.”
“I know.” I waved and left my room to find Emery in hers. The bedrooms in our home were small, but I liked to think we’d made them cozy and homey. Emery’s walls were white, as were mine. On hers, there were rainbows and unicorns she’d chosen herself to keep watch over her at night.
A bright pink comforter covered her bed, draped over the lower half of her body. She was propped up against her headboard, waiting to be tucked in. The mattress dipped as I sat down next to her. “Good night, sweetie. I’ll see you when you get out of school tomorrow. Okay?”
She nodded, used to the arrangement. It’d been that way for a long time. Probably since Emery could remember. “I love you, Mommy.”
“Love you too, baby.” I wrapped her in my arms and inhaled the scent of strawberry shampoo. “Lori’s here if you need anything.”
“I know,” she said in a whisper against my shoulder. “I have something for you.”
Wiggling free of my hug, she bent down and searched for something under her bed. When she surfaced, she was holding a piggy bank I’d gotten her to save for whatever she wanted. Last I heard, it was a holiday to the beach.
She held it out to me. The pig’s tummy jiggled with change as she shook it, clearly wanting me to take it. “I saved some money for your car. You won’t have to worry about paying for it now.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” My heart clenched and threatened to implode. Tears jumped to my eyes as I saw her hopeful, proud green eyes staring up at me. “Thank you for being willing to give it to me, but you need to save that money. It’s yours.”
Tilting her head, she nodded. “Okay, but you can have it if you want.”
“You’re the best daughter I could’ve asked for, you know that?” Her sweet gesture made me all emotional, but I couldn’t let her see. There was no time for me to explain that these were happy tears, not sad ones.
I wondered briefly at what age people lost their way of looking at the world the way we looked at it as children and how much better the world would be if we never lost it at all. There was only some change in Emery’s piggy bank, but it was all the money she had in the world, and she was ready to hand it over to help me.
Adults would never make gestures like that. Adults also have bills to pay and don’t look at life with the innocence of a child because we’ve seen first-hand that everything isn’t good and right in the world.
I ignored the snarky part of my brain, overwhelmed by what a wonderful person my daughter was growing up to be. Sure, I was biased, but I thought she rocked.
Leaning forward, I gave her a kiss on the forehead and got up. “Sleep tight, my angel. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I hurried out, waved goodbye to Lori, and took off for my night job. With a few minutes to spare, I parked outside. The building where I did my janitorial work didn’t look like much from the outside, but the inside had been gutted and renovated to a thing of beauty. The owners had kept the old parquet floors, the high arches, and the large windows, but everything else was shiny and new.
It belonged to some business conglomerate, but I’d never seen the name other than on my paychecks. A local businessman used the offices for his base of operations, but I didn’t know if he was the ultimate owner or if he was renting.
It didn’t matter. I only came here to clean a couple of times a week. The building was usually empty, or close to it, by the time I got here. It was rare for me to see anyone. All I usually saw were whiteboards wiped clean, office upon office of books and files I had no business opening, and whatever was in their trash cans.
Security was tight, so although I’d been curious about what exactly they did here, I’d never snooped. When they renovated, they’d installed cameras in most of the rooms. To be honest, I was pretty sure the businessman shared the offices with lawyers from what little I’d seen of the men who worked here.
It was all usually perfectly plain and boring, but I noticed a shift in the atmosphere tonight as soon as I stepped onto the first corridor where the offices were. Plush carpeting sank beneath my feet, hiding the sound of my footsteps as I pushed the trolley with my supplies toward the first office.
Tensions were running high between the men in there. The door was cracked open, and their harsh voices bounced off the walls in the corridor.
I wasn’t too surprised they didn’t seem worried about being overheard. Access to the offices was strictly controlled, and you needed to swipe a keycard in front of three different scanners to get that far. Considering that I hardly ever saw anyone, I doubted they’d contemplated my schedule.
Of course, they would think they were safe. I, on the other hand, might not be if they found me here. Knots twisted in my stomach as I listened to their conversation. I looked behind me, but security would get suspicious if I went back out into the main lobby so soon to start a different floor.
If I proceeded down the corridor, I would have to go past the conference room where they were. All the offices and conference rooms had large windows facing into the corridors, so there was no chance they wouldn’t see me.
The only place I could hide where they hopefully wouldn’t catch me accidentally overhearing them was in the supply closet down the corridor. It was closer to where the voices were coming from, but it was large enough for me and my cart, and I didn’t think I’d ever seen another person other than myself so much as look at it.
One of the men was fuming as I quietly snuck into the closet, still able to hear them through the thin walls. I jumped when a sound much like a fist slamming into a table rang out.
“We’re going to find that money if it’s the last fucking thing we do,” a man’s voice bellowed. “It’s our money, and no two-bit fucking con man is going to take it from us.”
“What do you suggest we do?” another voice asked, also male, but with a quieter, more forbidding tone. A shudder traveled down my spine. It was a damn good thing I found that closet to hide in when I did. It was starting to sound… dangerous?
“I suggest we don’t leave any stone unturned,” the first voice replied sharply. “It doesn’t matter who we have to intimidate, blackmail, or kill. Nothing is off the table here, gentlemen. Reach out to whoever you need to reach out to. Call in favors or the fucking cavalry, but I want that money, and I want it now.”
There was a murmur of agreement and several more minutes of talk as the men replied to each other and promised updates soon. I waited in the closet, not about to risk being found there. Eventually, the sound of footsteps filed down the hallway. When there was nothing but silence for ten straight minutes, I cracked open the door and looked both ways down the corridor.
Satisfied there was no one out there, I reversed my cart back out of the closet and made my way down the hall. Shivers of apprehension kept passing through me, but I gritted my teeth and went to the first office I had to clean. When I turned the corner, one of the men was standing there in the process of locking his office. His head jerked up when he saw me.
Narrowing his eyes, he asked, “How long have you been here?”
“I just got to this floor, sir. Why? Was there something you needed?” I could hardly believe it, but somehow, I managed to keep my voice from shaking. I sounded calm, cool as a cucumber.
The man grunted but shook his head and walked away. I slumped forward against my cart, my knees feeling suddenly numb. Thank God, he bought it.
Chapter Nine
Evan
Beau’s words kept turning over in my head. If our dad was in trouble, we did have a responsibility to help him. Or did we?
I ran an agitated hand over the back of my head, pinching the nape of my neck as I walked into the shop. It wasn’t even eight in the morning, and I already felt a headache coming on. For someone who couldn’t remember the last time he needed to take an aspirin, the headache thing was becoming far too common for me.
Phoenix wasn’t at the shop yet, and for
a minute, I was relieved. I was so stuck in my own moral dilemma about what to do about my father, I didn’t know if I had the energy to deal with anyone else. Even someone who could always be counted on to cheer me up.
I needed to sort through all that in my head, which was spinning and refusing to let me hang onto a single thought about my father long enough to decide what to do about it. All I knew was that I didn’t want to see our father. Problem was, I was beginning to feel like I was the only one he wanted to talk to.
For some fucking reason I didn’t understand. If he wanted to leave Jeremy and Sonny out of it to protect them after recent events, I understood that. Tyson was… Tyson. He and Dad had some complicated history since Tyson had a hand in putting him away. Beau, on the other hand, I couldn’t think of a reason why Dad wouldn’t want to speak to him.
They used to be as close as Dad and I were. But Beau was also something of a leader to the community. People listened to him when he talked. Out of all of us, he was probably the one people saw as his own person, more than someone with Dad’s shadow constantly hanging over his head.
Even after a few years had passed since our father went to prison, we were the “infamous” Lovett brothers. When we were introduced to people, there were always whispers of our history that followed.
It took me a long time to get into the state of mind where I could ignore those whispers, but I was finally there. Speaking to my father would be like taking two steps back when I’d only taken three forward.
Regardless of what I thought, Beau was right about one thing. He was our father, and if something did happen to him, it would be on my shoulders. Another life lost because of me.
I shook my head out of that dark space. If I allowed myself to fall into that abyss, it would take me days to claw my way out of it. I didn’t know how much time my dad had, but it may not be days. Not if the trouble was as deep as Beau seemed to think it was.
