Leverage (The Mistaken Series)

by Nancy S Thompson

  “Hannah, your son, he is a man now. It is wonderful to have a second chance, to have found a husband who accepts your son as his own, but he will never be Conner’s real father. I know this from experience.” He leaned toward me again and laid his hand along my left shoulder. “Listen to your mother’s heart.” He lifted his other hand and ran his fingers along my temple, brushing the hair from my face and sweeping it behind my ear.

  The intimate contact was unexpected and made my heart skitter, growing even more intense when he slid closer still and pulled me into a soft embrace. Flustered and caught off guard, I stiffened at first, but then I relaxed and allowed his kind words to comfort me. I rested my cheek against his broad shoulder as his hand rubbed soothing circles along my back. But the tension returned twofold when I heard the familiar rumble of Tyler’s pickup roar back down the street. It came to a screeching halt at the end of the front walkway. The driver’s door opened, and Ty jumped out.

  His eyes were, at first, wary, then surprised, then angry as they shifted from my face to Roman, to his hand still at my shoulder. Roman returned an equally troubling look. Heat stained my cheeks. I pulled away from Roman and leapt to my feet as Tyler surged up the front walk onto the porch.

  Roman stood and faced Ty. He bowed his head in respect, but though his face was etched with a complacent smile, his eyes burned with an intensity I couldn’t quite fathom. Protective perhaps? Angry that Ty had hurt me? Something inside told me no, that wasn’t it. It was almost as if Roman hated Ty. But that was ridiculous. He barely knew him.

  And Tyler… His rage, though contained, was palpable, fairly rippling off his rigid shoulders and his tightly fisted hands, like it was all he could do to keep from wrapping his fingers around Roman’s neck. But then he shifted his focus back to me, and his eyes softened.

  I knew that look, too. Regret. Remorse. Pain and sorrow. I’d come to know each extraordinarily well.

  Ty took a step closer, but stopped when Roman shifted between us. And as quick as that, Ty’s expression morphed into fury. He pulled his arm back and shot a punch to Roman’s chin. Flailing, Roman flew backwards and collapsed onto the porch swing, snapping it from its chains and sending us both to the concrete. With a shriek, I wrapped my arms around my belly and rolled over the busted wood and metal chain links.

  “Hannah! Oh my God!” Tyler howled and pulled me up into his arms.

  Roman vaulted to his feet, his eyes burning into Ty’s back, but he remained still, disturbingly calm. His jaw ticked and his mouth thinned to a mere crack as blood trickled from a split in his bottom lip. His gaze shifted to mine and softened, almost mechanically. He took a step back and began to turn away.

  I pushed against Tyler and shoved him out of the way. “Roman, wait! Don’t go.”

  Ty spun around, and Roman flinched, stumbling on the debris at his feet. He caught himself then hopped back toward the front steps.

  With a sigh, Tyler raised his arm. “Bloody hell. I’m sorry. I completely overreacted.”

  His brow drawn tight, Roman’s face crumpled into a weak grin as he proceeded backwards down the steps, his head bobbing and his back bowed in deference. “Lo siento mucho. So sorry, so sorry,” he said over and over.

  “Roman,” I cried and pushed past Ty, though he caught me at the elbow.

  “Hannah...”

  I tore my arm away. “He was just trying to help!” I picked my way to Roman’s side. “I’m so sorry. Let me walk you home.”

  Roman nodded and allowed me to escort him to his front door where he turned to me with worry creasing his forehead. “I did not mean to cause more trouble.” He caught my hands when I shook my head at him. “Go home, Hannah, back to your husband, but be careful. He is an angry man. Muy enojado.”

  I nodded, embarrassed to have to agree.

  “Stand firm in your instincts, Hannah, and should you need a friend or help with your son, you know I am always here for you. Tenga cuidado.” With a tight smile and a quick glance over my shoulder at Ty, Roman turned and pushed back into his house, closing the door quietly behind him.

  I walked back to the house and climbed the front steps. Ty was still on the porch, his arms full of debris from the broken swing. I stopped and glared at him, disappointed, angry. No way could he miss that. He opened his mouth to speak, but I waved him away and stepped through the open front door. I heard the splintered wood fall back to the pavement then the door close behind me.

  “Hannah, wait, please. We need to talk.”

  I spun around and crossed my arms over my chest. “Fine. This is me talking, and you listening.” I waited for him to nod. “I’m going to go see Conner. We’re going to hash this all out. And since you seem to know so much about whatever the hell is going on, I’d prefer you come with me, but I’m going regardless, with or without you.”

  “No, I don’t want you going over there, possibly putting yourself and the baby at risk.”

  “But it’s okay if Conner is at risk, without the benefit of even knowing he’s at risk?”

  “No, Hannah, that’s not what I’m saying. I just don’t want you to go out there, whether I’m with you or not. In fact, I’d rather Conner not be out there by himself either. We should tell him to just move back home.”

  “Yeah, like that’s ever gonna happen, not without Katy anyway. She’s pregnant. He won’t leave her. You heard how he feels.” With a sigh, I paused and glanced away, gathering my nerve to shoot Ty an idea. “Ty, what if we extend the invitation to Katy, as w—”

  “Nope. No way.”

  “Tyler, hear me out, at least, plea—”

  “No. Way. I don’t trust her. I don’t even know who she really is. That’s the whole point of you not going out there and to bringing him home, to keep everyone the hell away from Katy, until we know for sure.”

  “But he’s not going to agree, Ty. Wouldn’t it be better to have her here where we can keep an eye on her? You know, keep your friends close and your enemies closer?”

  “Not close to you, and certainly not to my child.”

  “And my child, Ty? What about Conner?”

  He let out a long breath. “We’ll make him the offer, on our terms. See what he says. But he’s an adult, Hannah. We can’t make him do anything.”

  “First off, Ty, they’re your terms, not ours. Second, I can make him see reason, but I have to go talk to him in person, now, before any of this goes any further.”

  I swung around and headed for my bag and car keys in the kitchen, but Ty grabbed me by the elbow and spun me back to face him. “Not without me.” He glanced at his watch. “And I don’t have the time right now. I’m already late as it is, and I can’t miss these meetings.”

  I pulled back to free myself, but Ty held firm, so I twisted my arm and yanked hard. “Let go!” I snarled. “And don’t you ever presume to tell me what I can and cannot do.”

  His jaw clenched tight, Tyler let go and put his fists on his hips. “I think I have the right. That’s my child you’re carrying.”

  “Yeah, and your track record isn’t too good in that department, if you’ll recall.”

  He dropped his hands and stepped back, his mouth open. “What did you say?”

  “You heard me. You did this exact same thing to Jillian, and look how that worked out—your wife in the ground—she and your child. You helped put her there, Tyler, so don’t you dare give me crap about your rights.”

  Ty just stood there with the most wounded look on his face, like he couldn’t believe I’d actually said those words out loud. Frankly, I couldn’t believe it either. Spite and anger had pushed them from my mouth. I knew it was wrong and hadn’t wanted to say them. I even tried not to, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. After everything he’d been through, that we’d been through, after losing everything and vowing never to step over that line, to force his judgment and decisions onto others, he hadn’t learned a thing.

  He pulled his shoulders back, straight an
d rigid. “Sounds like you’re accusing me of killing Jillian.”

  He was right. It did. But the damage was done, and I didn’t know what to say to undo it, so I said nothing. Truth was, I did believe he had a hand in her death, not directly, of course, but his actions had pushed her to the point of desperation, to act when he would not. He needed to know I wouldn’t be pushed. So I raised my chin in answer.

  “Guess that’s what you’ve always believed, huh?” Another stretch of silence, another shake of his head. “You never should’ve married me then, Hannah.” He held my gaze for a long moment then shrugged. “Okay then.” With that, he turned and walked down the hall to our bedroom and closed the door.

  I could hear drawers slide open and slam shut, one after the other, and Ty’s footfalls as he marched back and forth across the room. The medicine cabinet door squeaked open. Objects tumbled from the narrow shelves into the porcelain sink below. I even recognized the sound of Ty’s heavy duffel bag being pulled across the wood floor under the bed and tossed onto the mattress above, of clothes being drawn angrily from the closet, the hangers bouncing off the rods, banging against the walls, and skittering across the hard floor.

  I stood rooted to the floor, unable to move, frozen in indecision. Should I follow through and drive out to Conner’s? Or do I run to Ty, beg his forgiveness, admit I was wrong, that I didn’t believe he’d killed Jillian? In other words, lie, as I had accused him of doing. No. I wouldn’t do that. But I didn’t want him to leave either.

  Time was up. Ty opened the bedroom door and trudged back into the living room with the bag slung over his shoulder. He stood before me and stared. His bright, soulful, blue eyes glistened with unshed tears, filled with pain and regret, with anger and disappointment. He pressed his lips together and lifted his palm to my face, his thumb stroking the damp skin of my cheek. He smiled the tiniest grin before he dropped his hand and headed for the front door.

  “Ty, wait.”

  He stopped, but didn’t turn around. He just stood there facing the door, silent, his shoulders hunched over, waiting.

  “Come with me. Please.”

  He angled his face slightly toward me, but kept his eyes cast to the floor. “It’s too late for that, I think.”

  “Is it? Or are you still just too rigid to bend?”

  His shoulders rose and fell with a visible sigh. He stepped up to the door and grabbed hold of the knob. I wanted to halt him in his tracks, but I found it equally hard to bend. Instead, I chose to challenge him.

  “Roman offered to go in your place.”

  At first, he stood stock still, his knuckles white as he gripped the doorknob. Then he rose to his full height, his shoulders pressed back and his chin high. But still, he didn’t turn.

  “If that’s what you want,” he whispered, “then go ahead.” He yanked the door open and passed through, closing it softly in his wake.

  My feet felt like anchors caught on river snag. I couldn’t move. I was angry, yes, and hurt, but more than anything, I was afraid, and terribly conflicted. Every fiber in my being told me to run after Ty, but my mother’s heart screamed to protect Conner, as well. I shouldn’t have to choose. I shouldn’t be made to. Just being so urged me to shift toward Conner’s side. But then my iPhone pinged from the other room, and the floor released me as if debris swept away by a strong current. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed my cell from the counter. It was a text. From Ty.

  “I’m sorry. Please don’t go out there. Please. I’ll be crashing at my construction trailer. Call if you need me. I love you.”

  And that’s all it took for me to decide, heavy though it made my heart. Like Roman had said, Conner was a man now, fully grown, and I was Tyler’s wife. While obedience was not in my vocabulary, Ty did deserve my loyalty, and my trust. I knew it was just his fear talking, anxiety over the possibility of losing another wife, another unborn child. He didn’t want to make the same mistake, but going through something like that again would certainly destroy him for good. He’d never survive.

  So I backed off. I wouldn’t push.

  Yet.

  CHAPTER 18

  Conner

  I lay in bed, one hand tucked beneath my head, the other on Katy’s hip, as I stared upward, watching the early morning light slip through the blinds and march in slatted shadow across the stubbled popcorn ceiling. My life had turned into a study of contrasts. You know how they say you can’t really appreciate the good in life until you’ve experienced the bad? Well, I was suffering the lesson in reverse, though the good I had to compare it to had proved to be the very barest of glimpses.

  Before the proverbial shit hit the fan, I’d managed to reform my life. Class had been going well. I’d been on decent terms with my mom and Ty. My dad had been providing a fair share of financial support. I’d been given the opportunity every young musician yearns for—a chance to perform—earning not only a paycheck, but the respect of my peers. And I’d even met a girl who genuinely seemed to get me, and who wasn’t bent on my destruction. But recently, one by one, nearly each and every checkmark in my pro column had shifted alliance over to the cons. And instead of feeling outbalanced to the side of rainbows and puppy dogs, my feet felt as though they were dangling over the fires of hell, or purgatory at the very least.

  My focus had realigned to include two more lives, Katy and our forthcoming child, and although the baby was months from being born, I already felt ragged around the edges. My father had just lost his third job in three years, a tale he’d left untold until he’d exhausted the last of his unemployment benefits, as well as the final dollar in his retirement account. The Bank of Dad had collapsed and was now shuttered and locked tight.

  My mother was all too willing to support in any way she could, but that meant borrowing from Ty, something I wasn’t willing to do, at least not yet. Greg had given me one more night of play time and even allowed me to take some dishwashing shifts in the back, which helped a lot, but still wasn’t enough.

  So now I lay in bed for hours each night and morning—Katy beside me, enjoying the sleep of the dead—while I contemplated how to get us all through this. The situation had deteriorated so much and so quickly, it had overtaken all previous concerns in my overwhelmed head, namely, Katy’s assault. Not much I or anyone else could do if she wouldn’t cooperate. The subject was off the table as far as Katy was concerned. She just wanted to forget it ever happened. Whenever I brought it up, asked her what had happened or if she could identify who’d done it, she said she couldn’t remember, it was too dark, everything a blur. I finally stopped asking about it earlier this week. It just made her cranky and irritable. That didn’t jive well with all the other clutter taking up residence in my life.

  I startled back to the land of the living when my phone jerked a quirky path along my nightstand. I could tell just by the custom vibration that it was my mom calling. I threw the sheets back and sat up, grabbed my phone, then walked into the kitchen, accepting the call with a sigh.

  “Hey, Mom,” I answered after a forcefully shortened yawn. “What’s up?”

  “Morning, sweetheart. How’re you?”

  Another yawn. “Tired.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s only gonna get worse, I’m afraid.”

  “Gee, Mom, thanks. Just what I needed to hear.” A third yawn.

  “Oh, Conner, I’m just sayin’—”

  “I know what you’re sayin’, Mom, and I don’t need to hear it. We’ve been through this a dozen times already.”

  “And we’ll likely be through it at least a dozen more. You’re being belligerent.”

  “I told you, I don’t want Ty’s money.”

  “It’s my money, too.”

  “Whatever. We’re fine here. I just got a work-study assignment from FineAid.”

  “That’s great, but work-study goes straight for tuition.”

  “Yeah, but it’s that much less I have to pull from my student loan account, which can then go to f
ood and rent.” Lie number one. Those funds were paid directly to the school. I couldn’t touch one dime. “I’ve got it all worked out, Mom.” Another lie.

  “You do, huh?”

  “Yes, plus Katy still has her refund money from Housing.” My third lie. There was no refund money, because, although she had yet to admit it, just as Ty had explained, she had never actually lived at McCarty Hall. Just another random piece of clutter. My brain felt like a fucking pinball machine on tilt. “Greg is letting me pick up shifts in the kitchen now, too. So, you know, we’re fine. You don’t need to worry about us. Worry about yourself.” I paused then added, “Ty home yet?” It was a mean-spirited attempt to get the focus off me.

  I heard a muffled whimper, then, “Um…no, not yet. Soon, I think.”

  I sighed, disappointed, not just in Ty, but at myself for bringing it up. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do? Want me to talk to him or something?”

  “No, please, Conner. He’ll be home soon. It’ll all work out. Always does.”

  “Same here, Mom. Gotta go, okay? I have class in an hour.”

  I clicked off and shook my head. What difference did one more lie make?

  CHAPTER 19

  Conner

  I was starting to feel like one of those cheesy movie adventurers who steps into quicksand and becomes trapped. The harder I tried to pull myself from the muck and mire that was my life, the deeper I sank into it. Yesterday, Katy went to her first OB/Gyn appointment and set up a schedule of monthly pre-natal visits, and, barring any medical aid, a payment plan, which, without insurance, there was no way I could afford. Just because healthcare had been mandated and labeled affordable didn’t make it any more manageable for me. My frustration was clearly visible as I threw plates and stuffed cups into the big dishwasher at Rush Hour and pulled down the stainless steel door with a shuddering bang.