Nine
Callie
After Kayden and I eat breakfast, I start getting ready for the day. While I’m digging through the closet for an outfit, my phone rings with an incoming call from my mom. Since I’m pressed for time, I almost ignore it. But she has been trying to get a hold of me for the last few days, so…
Sighing, I answer the phone. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, honey!” Her cheerfulness isn’t out of the ordinary, but the banging noises in the background are.
“What’s going on over there?” I sink down onto the bed. “It sounds noisy.”
“We’re working on the bedroom above the garage for when you guys come out here for Thanksgiving.”
“Um, yeah, I’m not sure if we’re going to be able to make it or not. There’s a lot of stuff going on, and I got this new job, and I’m not sure what the hours are going to be like yet.”
“You got a new job?” She doesn’t sound as thrilled as I had hoped.
“You act like that’s a bad thing?”
“No, it’s not. It’s great. It’s just….” She trails off, but I know she isn’t finished.
I let a slow exhale ease from my lips, preparing myself for whatever she’s about to say. Even after I told my parents about what happened with Caleb, my mom and I still don’t always get along or see eye to eye.
“What about the wedding?” she finally asks. “Have you set a date yet?”
“I already told you we aren’t going to do that until we graduate.” With a quick glance at the time, I put the phone on speaker, set it on the dresser, and then return to the closet to search for an outfit.
“Yeah, but… Do you really think it’s a good idea to wait? I mean, long engagements don’t always work out.”
“If Kayden and I can’t make it through a long engagement, then I guess we weren’t meant to be.”
We are meant to be, though. I’m positive of that. Just like I’m positive we can make it through a long engagement. But my mom’s old-fashioned and doesn’t understand that. Doesn’t understand me wanting a career.
“You two are meant to be,” she assures me. “And if you need any help with wedding plans, let me know. I’d love to help.”
I internally sigh. We’ve had this conversation before, many, many times, and it’s pointless to argue with her. “All right, I will.”
We chat for a few more minutes before I tell her I have to go. As I’m hanging up, a message pings through from Seth.
Seth: Have you talked to Violet recently?
Me: She called me earlier to say she had to cancel on our plans today. I was actually about to text you about it. Why? What’s up?
Seth: She called me to ask if she could borrow my car for a little bit this morning, which is weird. And she was acting strange. I think she had been crying.
Worry seeps through me. Violet rarely cries, at least in front of people.
Me: I thought she was acting a bit weird too. Did she say why?
Seth: No. But you know how she is. I think we should stop by and check on her.
Me: How about we pick her up for the game?
Seth: Sounds good to me. I’ll text her.
Me: Okay. TTYL. And let me know if you find out what’s going on.
Seth: Will do.
I’m about to put the phone down when another message comes through.
Seth: Wait, hold on. So, we’re really not going costume shopping today then?
Me: Yeah, sorry. Violet said she had to cancel and I’m kind of busy too.
Seth: Well, we need to reschedule then and soon. I want to look amazing this year, and that can’t happen if I go looking for a costume last minute. And FYI, you guys owe me a coffee for standing me up!
Me: We figured as much already.
I set the phone down with an unsettling feeling stirring inside me. Violet’s life hasn’t been easy. She’s been through a lot—more than most people.
“I hope everything’s okay with her,” I mutter, combing my fingers through my hair.
Then, because I know I have to focus right now, I take a deep breath, set the worry aside, and focus on getting ready for my new job. I’m not going to lie and say I’m not terrified—I am. But I’m also excited for this new adventure in my life. I just hope I can balance my job and my personal life. And that I can be here for Kayden. But with Kayden by my side, I feel like can handle just about anything.
I hope…
Ten
Kayden
Evan Meriliieford is the name listed on the detective agency card. The address and phone number is in Laramie, which means the man who believes he’s my father lives in Laramie, or he knows I live here and hired a detective from the same town I reside in.
As I sit on the sofa in my apartment, patting the card against the palm of my hand, I try to decide the best time to call this guy. Honestly, I’m not sure there is a “best time” when it comes to calling up a person who could potentially tell you all the Hell you suffered through for your entire life could’ve been avoided. I mean, what happens if the man that hired this Evan detective guy is my birth father and he turns out to be a great guy, way better than the monster I believed was my dad for almost my entire life? What if he would’ve taken me in had he known about me when I was born. What if I could’ve grown up not being tortured, beaten, and loathed.
What if…
What if…
What if…
Yeah, I really need to stop going down this road before I end up sinking into a pit of depression.
The moment Callie leaves the house for her new job, I start to obsess over the card until I glance at the time and realize I need to be down at the stadium in less than a few hours. Since I have a game tonight, it might be best if I stop worrying about this for now and call the number tomorrow. Sure, my head will be crammed with a ton of worry, but trying to deal with this only hours before a game is going to pull me out of the state of mind I have to be in when I step out on the field. A state of mind that has no room for worries of fathers and lives that never happened.
Pushing to my feet, I grab my wallet and tuck the card inside the flap. Then I head back to the bedroom to take a quick nap before the game starts since I spent half the night tossing and turning over this whole father thing.
Right as I’m about to lie down, my phone rings from inside my pocket. Sighing, I fish it out, noting the call is from Luke.
“Hey, man,” I say as I flop down on the bed.
“Hey.” He pauses for a lengthy amount of time. “Look, so this is going to sound a bit strange, and you’re probably going to have a lot of questions, but I can’t answer them right now.”
“Um… Okay.” What the hell? “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, kind of.” He pauses again. “I just wanted to give you a heads up that I quit the team.”
“What?” I sit up, startled and confused as fuck. “When?”
“A couple of hours ago.” A loud breath puffs through the line. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like I was ever going to get drafted or anything. Football was just something I did for fun and to keep myself busy, but some stuff came up and… Well, yeah, I gotta quit the team.”
“What kind of stuff came up?”
“Well, see here’s the thing. I actually can’t answer that. I want to, man. My life would be way fucking easier if I could. But I literally can’t. And I’m begging you not to push this because it’s pointless and I’ll just have to keep saying the same thing over and over again.”
“Everything’s okay, though, right?”
“Kind of. I mean, with the reason I have to quit.” He sighs. “Violet’s not taking this don’t-ask-questions thing very well, though. “
“You didn’t tell her either?” I’m unable to conceal my shock.
“Not because I don’t want to. Because I can’t.” He huffs out a breath. “She’s so fucking pissed off. She even borrowed Seth’s car, packed her shit, and is telling me she’s going to stay in a hotel.” He sou
nds on the verge of panicking. “So, if you have any advice on how to smooth this over, please tell me because I’m seriously lost.”
“My advice is to tell her what the hell is going on.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “Maybe you do have a good reason for not telling me or anyone else why you quit the team, but she’s your fiancé, and you need to make an exception with her.”
“What if I legally can’t?”
Huh? “Okay, now you’re really confusing the fuck out of me.”
“I know.” He sighs again. “I’ll figure something out. I just wanted to give you a heads up that I’m not going to be at the game today. And that you might be seeing less of me for the next couple of months.”
“You know, you sound sketchy as shit now, right?”
“Yep, I sure do.”
“Cool, just as long as you know that.”
“Always do.” He blows out a breath. “I gotta go. I’ve got this… thing later today that I have to get ready for.”
I reach for a glass of water that’s on the nightstand and take a sip. “Well, if you need anything, just let me know.”
“I will.” He hesitates. “Everything going well with you, though? I know we haven’t gotten to hang out much lately.”
“I honestly don’t know how to answer that question.” I set the glass of water down. “There’s some crazy shit that’s going on right now… With my dad.”
“With your dad?”
“Yeah… Look, it’s a complicated story that I don’t really feel like talking about yet—not until I find out a few things. But how about we plan on hanging out next weekend or something. You and Violet can come over here, and we can grill some burgers. I know Callie’s been wanting to do that. We can invite Seth and Greyson too.”
“Let me double check on something and I’ll let you know,” he says hesitantly. “I might have some… other stuff going on next weekend.”
“You’re not joining the mob or anything like that, are you?” I joke. Well, partially joke.
I’ve been best friends with Luke for a long fucking time and know he’s gotten into some trouble over the years—we both have. But Luke almost seems to crave trouble sometimes and even goes looking for it.
“Nah, this is nothing like that,” he assures me. “What’s going on… It’s good for me. It’s just going to complicate my personal life for a bit. But I promise, eventually, I’ll be able to tell you more.”
“All right. Well, let me know if you need anything. And let me know about next weekend.”
“Will do.”
We hang up, and I roll over to go to sleep when the doorbell rings.
“Son of a bitch,” I grumble as I bury my head further into the pillows.
I’m not answering the damn door. I’m going to get some rest. I can’t take any more drama right now. Whoever they are will go away—
The bell rings again, this time twice in a row. It’s followed by a loud knock.
I shake my head before dragging my ass out of bed. Kicking some clothes out of the way, I walk out of the room, across the living room, and throw open the doorway.
My eyes instantly narrow, my jaw ticking, my fingers curling into fists. “What the fuck are you doing here.”
My mother smiles at me, but her eyes are filled with the emotional coldness I grew up despising. “You and I need to talk.”
She looks just like she used to, her hair perfectly in place, not a wrinkle in her designer dress, and a string of pearls is around her neck. She always loved giving off the appearance that her life was all flashy perfection and smiles. But if someone looks close enough, they’ll see her bloodshot eyes, which are due to the fact that she constantly drinks and pops pills. And behind that plastic smile is a dark and haunting coldness she rarely shows anyone except her family.
Lucky us.
“Fuck off.” I move to shut the door in her face.
“You can’t talk to him,” she sputters in desperation.
I’ve never heard her sound so desperate and maybe that’s why I pause.
“Talk to who?” I ask with the door half closed.
Her gaze flicks to the stairwell and then to the parking lot before she looks back at me. “Your father.”
“Which one, Mother?” I crook a brow. “The man I grew up believing was my father. You know, the one that you let beat me for years. Because he’s buried about six feet under the ground right now and I’m thinking it’s pretty impossible to talk to him.” I slant against the doorframe and stare her down as she glares at me. “Or the man I just found out about last night. You know, the man you apparently had an affair with and who I never knew existed until about twenty-four hours ago when some stranger came up and informed me. Thanks for that, by the way. For not telling me.”
Her lip twitches. “You’ve grown bolder since the last time I spoke to you.”
“Yeah, because I realized I didn’t have to take your shit anymore.”
“Just because you decided I wasn’t good enough to be in your life anymore, doesn’t give you the right to talk to me this way.”
“I’m not saying anything that isn’t true,” I clarify. “And I told you a long time ago that I didn’t want you in my life anymore. That you’re toxic. So when you show up at my front door unannounced, this is the sort of treatment you’re going to get, especially after I just found out you’ve been lying to me for my entire life.”
“I didn’t lie to you,” she hisses, stepping forward to get into my face. “I was protecting you.”
“Protecting me?” I gape at her. “Protecting me from what? The fact that the man I grew up thinking was my father might not be. That all those years of torture and mental mind fucks could have never happened.”
Her eyes narrow to slits. “You think just because some man claims he’s your father that he’s going to be better than the man that raised you.” She inches toward me, her eyes full of a rage I’ve never been able to understand. “A bit of advice, Kayden. The man who’s about to try to barge into your life is nothing but a coldhearted monster. You can let him in if you want, but you’ll regret it eventually, just like I did.” Her voice cracks, and for a moment her eyes reflect so much emotion that I barely recognize her. But just as swiftly as it appears, the emotion fizzles into that familiar emptiness. Smoothing her hands over her hair, she steps back. “Now, when you’re ready to talk, you can give me a call.” She hands me a card. “I’m staying in a hotel downtown. I’ll be here in Laramie for about a week while I take care of some things. Then I’m returning home.”
She doesn’t mention where home is and I don’t bother asking. She just turns away and hurries down the stairway while I step back and slam the door.
I glance at the card she gave me, note her phone number scribbled on the back, and crumble it up.
Like hell I’m ever going to purposefully contact that woman again.
And how the hell did she track me down so fast? Or has she been living near Laramie this entire time and I was just unaware?
“Fuck.” I slam my hand against the door, anger and tension rippling through me.
So much for relaxing before the game.
I can’t believe this is happening. Can’t believe she’s affecting me like this again. I shouldn’t let her fuck with my head, but I can’t help but worry about what she said. That maybe this man who might be my real birth father is worse than the man I grew up believing was my father.
But can I just take her word for it?
Fuck no. My mom’s one of the biggest liars I know.
But what if she’s telling the truth this time?
Eleven
Callie
I’ll admit, I’m nervous as I make my way to the bookshop. The sign on the front door is flipped to closed and the door is locked. Like Evie instructed last night, I dig my key out of my pocket and unlock the door. For some reason, I cast a glance around the quiet area before slipping inside and locking the door back up again.
The lights are off inside
, but the sunlight from outside filters in through the small windows and lights a path down the row of bookshelves to the far back door with all the deadbolts. I unlock all of those with the same key I used on the front door then I twist the knob and just like that, I’m starting my very first day of my new job.
The space hidden behind the door is far less busy than it was last night; only one other person is there, typing away at a computer. I look around, searching for Evie and spot her in the back office we went into last night. She notices me at almost the same time and motions me over.
I smile then make my way around the cluttered computer desks and to her office.
“Callie, glad you made it through the doors.” She shoves a stack of papers aside. “Sadly, not everyone does. I haven’t figured out yet if it’s because they’re nervous and decide to back out, or if the locks are too complicated for them. If it’s the latter, I’m glad they never made it back here.”
I lower my bag to the floor and sink into a chair. “I kind of understand the nervous part,” I admit, wiping my damp palms on the front of my jeans. “I feel like I’m bursting with energy right now.”
“That’s a good thing. It means you’re excited.” She smiles at me before taking a sip from a coffee mug.
“I am,” I say. “I just hope I can do a good job. And maybe get those girls some justice.”
“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think you could.” She pulls open the top desk drawer. “All right, let’s get straight to the point since you’ve got a lot of work cut out for you.” She drops a small stack of folders in front of me. “Each folder contains information about a victim and the details of their attack. I’d like you to spend the weekend going over this information. I’m going to give you Easton’s phone number before you leave here. If you have any questions about the files, call him or call me. And I mean that, Callie. Day or night, you can call me or Easton, even if it’s to have a mini meltdown.” She rests her arms on the desk. “This job is going to be extremely stressful and time-consuming, and I don’t want you thinking you’re in it alone. If you think this way, then you probably won’t make it past day one.”
Secrets We Buried Page 6
