“I want us out, yes.” My answer is blunt as I pull my own napkin across my lap. “I’m not going to hide away in some hotel and let my fear cripple me.” My voice is stern but also sympathetic. “If someone wants to know if we’re together, let them know.” He woke up last night with sweat pouring down his face. He was screaming in his sleep. I refuse to play this psychological game. I’m going to be there for my husband. I’m going to do everything I can to make him better. And that means not hiding and not being scared. I’ll be strong for him.
“I won’t let a single person keep us from moving on with our lives. And that means being together and going to my favorite restaurant to celebrate.”
I flash him a smile as the waiter walks over to us. Like this conversation doesn’t put me on edge.
It’s quiet while the water is being poured and stays that way with the exception of the waiter telling us the specials and handing us the menus.
It’s only when he leaves us that I continue what I was saying.
“Yes, I want us to be seen. I also want to celebrate being pregnant. I want to buy a new house, a bigger one closer to the park.” I pick up the water, resting my elbow on the table as I talk while reading the menu, even though I already know what I want. “I want to slow down with work and I want the world to know it all. And if they don’t care, don’t like it or want to stop us,” I lean forward and whisper, “then fuck them.”
He only responds with a tight smile.
“I’m not going to let this change us and who we are.”
“I don’t want you to be in danger,” he answers me.
“Too late, baby,” I say and my smile falters.
“I feel really uncomfortable being here,” he tells me and it upsets me. He needs to move on.
“And I feel like you’re perpetuating your fears by hiding away and only focusing on them. Not just focusing, but allowing them to dictate everything,” I tell him and my voice cracks. I have to take a sip of water to calm myself down. “I hate what you allowed to happen simply because you were afraid of an outcome that may or may not ever be a possibility.”
“You don’t understand,” he tells me with a frustrated sigh and it pisses me off.
“It felt like you’d died,” I admit to him. “So I think I do.” I take another drink of water and then ask, “What if the cops stop looking? What if James gets away with it? What then?”
He doesn’t answer, although I can see his will to fight me has left.
“I just want us back,” I admit to him. “That’s really what it comes down to.”
This time it’s him who puts his hand on the table and I’m more than happy to reach for him.
He kisses my knuckles and then my wrist. “I’m sorry,” he says again. He keeps telling me that he’s sorry.
“I know you are, but what am I?” I give him a joking response to lighten the mood and it works somewhat.
As Evan’s lips pull into a smile and he relaxes his posture, he takes my hand in his.
“You know I miss this side of you?” he tells me.
“What side?”
“The playful side,” he says and squeezes my hand … kind of like how my heart squeezes.
“Can I tell you a secret?” I ask him as the waiter walks up to us. “I miss it too.”
“Are you two ready to order?” the waiter asks, looking between both of us and clasping his hands in front of him.
“You first,” Evan says and gestures at me.
“The lasagna please, with a house salad.” I almost order a glass of cabernet but then I stop myself. Every time I remember we’re having a baby it’s a gift in itself.
“And I’ll have the same,” Evan says and it surprises me.
“You never have lasagna.”
He shrugs and says, “I guess I just wanted to try it your way.”
“We have the doctor’s appointment coming up and since you’re no longer working, I assume you’re coming with?” I ask him as the waiter leaves us.
“Of course,” Evan says and then he leans forward. “You know you look beautiful, right?”
He’s so cheesy but I can’t help the smile and blush. “Stop,” I brush him off.
“Never,” he says playfully.
That warm cheery feeling in my chest slowly drifts away as I remember my own little secret. Not so little really.
“I have something to tell you,” I spit the words out at the risk of upsetting Evan. “I did something that I don’t think you’re going to like.”
“What’s that?” he asks easily although I notice his shoulders stiffen.
“I was curious about something and I think it’s something only I would know how to ask appropriately … ”
I don’t know how to word this and I find myself staring at the ice in the glass of water.
“You can tell me,” Evan says as if it’s no big deal. “Whatever it is.”
“I went to see Samantha yesterday. At her place on Fifth Avenue,” I tell him, confessing before I can stop myself. The air instantly changes as Evan doesn’t respond. He seems uncomfortable, if anything.
“I had to know for myself.”
“What did you have to know?” he asks me, shifting in his seat. He leans forward like he’s going to scold me and I can already hear it. Danger this and that. Harm’s way, etcetera, etcetera.
“I had to know if she was your type. What she was like. So I know how to react when her name comes up.”
Evan runs his hand down the back of his head as he looks away from me. As if it’s stupid of me. “You don’t understand-” I start to explain but he cuts me off.
“There’s no one else for me, Kat,” he tells me bluntly, his hands hitting the table and rattling the small plates. The couple a table down from us glances in our direction and Evan calms down.
“I knew you would be upset-” I start to say and again he cuts me off.
“But you did it anyway.”
I nod my head once. “I did. And it’s over.”
The tension between us thins a bit as I look him in the eyes and say, “It’s over. There’s nothing there and I’m fine now.”
“You’re fine?” he asks me.
“Yeah,” I tell him and I am. “There’s no way she’s your type.”
My response gets a short laugh from Evan. A genuine smile even. “You know you’re crazy?” he asks me.
“I do. And you made me this way.”
“Fair enough,” he says but then his expression gets serious.
“I know, don’t do it again,” I say before he can tell me.
“I’m serious,” he says and I nod.
I look toward the front of the restaurant, to the right of Evan as another couple walks in. “I was surprised that Samantha does drugs.” I say absently. More to gossip than anything else. Well, maybe to throw her under the bus a little. I can admit that I’m not a big enough woman not to.
“What?” Evan asks.
“There was coke on her kitchen table.” He looks back at me with an expression that’s not quite disbelief, but something else.
“Coke?” he asks me. “Sam doesn’t do drugs.”
I ignore the fact that he called her Sam and nod my head once while I add, “And a bag of pills. She had a variety pack, Adderall and a mix of things. It was like a grab bag. I never would have guessed she does drugs,” I tell him and wait for him to say something.
“Speed?” he asks me again although it’s not quite spoken like a question.
“I didn’t say speed,” I tell him.
“Adderall is speed,” he tells me with a concerned expression.
“Oh I didn’t know. And I’m just guessing it’s Adderall.” I’m not exactly the best at drug identification. I swallow thickly, wishing I’d just kept my mouth shut and saved the gossip for the girls.
I watch as his forehead pinches. But there’s something else in his expression that catches me off guard. It’s hard and unforgiving. Even his hands clench into fists on top of the ta
ble. I glance at them and then his eyes, but movement behind him at the front of the restaurant catches my attention.
“Is that Suzette?” I ask Evan as I think I spot her walk in. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier for a change in conversation. It’s definitely her. I’d know that bob anywhere. She walks slowly as she digs in her purse, looking for something at the front of the restaurant.
I’m pushing my chair out from the table when my mouth drops open at the sight of a man coming up from behind her.
He’s much taller than her and in her heels, Sue is already taller than me. I don’t recognize him; he’s facing away from me. But in a black suit he stalks up behind her, letting his hand stray to her waist and pulling her close to him.
“Who is that?” I say beneath my breath but when I look to Evan and try to get his attention, he’s busy on his phone.
“Babe,” I not so quietly try to get his attention. It’s not every day you see one of your good friends being felt up by someone you don’t know.
I have to turn my head when I look back up to keep my eyes on them and try to follow them down the hall. But they’re gone before I even get the chance to stand.
I swear it was her and I go to reach for my phone, but glancing at Evan stops me mid-reach.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him as he stares at his phone.
“We have to go,” he says.
“We just got here,” I object, but that doesn’t stop him from standing up abruptly as the waiter returns to our table.
“I’m so sorry, we have to go,” Evan tells the waiter. “Please cancel the order.”
“Are you serious?” I ask him as the couple from before looks at us again.
“I’m sorry, but something just came up,” he tells me and there’s a look in his eyes that’s begging me not to push him. “Please, Kat,” he says to me. “Please, we need to leave.”
Chapter 29
Evan
* * *
It was a foolish thing,
To leave your side,
And risk you forgetting who we are.
When we’re together,
Everything shifts,
On my heart, you’ve left a scar.
It’s wounded,
And hurts so deep,
But is beautiful nonetheless.
I’m a better man for loving you,
It’s a truth that I confess.
* * *
“This alley smells like piss,” Mason says as we stop in between a Chinese restaurant and a shoe store. I met up with him on Prince Street and we walked our way here. Just me and him … and business to take care of.
I take a whiff and immediately regret it. “This is where he’s going though, right?” I ask him.
“Should already be there,” he says and nods.
“That’s what it said on Instagram. ‘Getting ready for the party,’” he says beneath his breath and shoves his hands in his pockets.
It’s bitter cold and the city streets are packed with people shopping and moving about like normal.
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” I tell Mason and bring it up again.
His eyes flicker to me and then back to across the street.
“There’s no way she happens to do speed,” I tell him. I’ve known Samantha for a long damn time. “Her husband dabbles in all sorts of drugs recreationally. But she doesn’t touch it.”
“It’s possible she does it on the down low?” he suggests. “You’d be surprised how many people do coke nowadays.”
I shake my head. “There has to be a connection between her and the dealer.”
“We’re gonna find out, aren’t we?” he asks me although it’s a rhetorical question.
“What’s the plan?”
“All we need is an address.”
“Just follow him?” I ask with disbelief.
“Only for a bit, then we switch off so we aren’t seen.”
“Switch off to who?”
“I got some guys,” Mason says and frustration gets the best of me.
“I want to be the one-” I start to tell him but he cuts me off.
“You want to keep her safe? Getting into this shit isn’t what you need. That’s not what the man who deserves to be at Kat’s side would do.”
That shuts me up, but I fucking hate it.
“So we just wait?” I ask him again.
“Yeah,” he says and his breath turns to fog, “just wait.”
Almost an hour passes before I think about going back to Kat. I pull my phone out and debate on messaging her, but James is still watching and I don’t have a burner yet.
“Fuck me,” I say out loud and run my hands down my face.
“Sorry, you’re not my type,” Mason says so matter-of-factly from his spot next to me. I grunt a short laugh despite myself. “I feel so fucking trapped.”
“I know the feeling,” Mason tells me and I give him a side-eye. His stare only hardens. “I know what it’s like to be in a lose-lose situation where the stakes are high.” He looks forward, staring at the opposite brick wall in the thin alley. “Too high,” he mutters beneath his breath.
“So what do you do?” I ask him and get his attention again. “How do you win?” I ask him with all sincerity, as if he has an answer that will put an end to this hell.
He shakes his head as he looks down at the ground and replies, “Sometimes there’s not a way to win, just a way to survive.”
I have to tear my eyes away from him, knowing he’s right and when I do, my arm reaches out and smacks him in the chest.
“Visual,” I tell him and Mason doesn’t hesitate to take out his phone and call the tail. “He’s here,” he speaks into the phone as both of us watch the perp, talking to someone in an open doorway on 20th and Broadway. Even from his profile, I know it’s him.
Every muscle in my body coils, ready to fight. It’s been weeks of holding back and not being able to do anything. And just across the street is the last piece to this puzzle of fucking misery.
Dark black hair, slicked back and tanned skin with a tattoo scrolling up his neck. It’s definitely him. We got this prick.
The second he’s walking down the stone steps, we’re out of the alley and following from across the street. I keep my eyes on him, walking through the thick crowd with my jaw clenched.
“Johnny we got him,” Mason talks into his cell phone as we walk. I try not to make it obvious that we’re following the fucker. At the same time, I’m holding back every desire to chase the dealer down and beat the shit out of him to get every last bit of information from him.
“Heading down Twenty-Second,” I hear Mason say and instinctively I glance up and look at the street sign before turning left to follow the asshole.
My blood’s pumping hard and every step it gets harder and harder not to pick up speed.
Right as we get to the end of the block and the crosswalk sign turns to a red hand, the fucker walks out, ignoring the oncoming cars and nearly getting hit, but he keeps going, yelling at the drivers as if it’s their fault. I move to do the same. We can’t risk losing him, but Mason puts his arm out in front of my chest to stop me.
“He’s got him,” he tells me, his eyes on the back of the dealer as he vanishes into the thick crowd. “Johnny’s on him.”
My shoulders rise and fall with my heavy breaths. I’m calm on the outside, but inside I’m pacing. “I need to do something,” I tell him, ignoring how the woman to my right turns back to look at me as if I’ve lost it. Maybe I have.
“Then go home,” Mason tells me and turns halfway around to walk right back up the way we came.
His leather jacket bunches in my fist as I pull him back to me. “I can’t sit around and do nothing,” I tell him, pleading with him to understand.
“The best thing for you to do is go home to your pregnant wife and stay right the fuck there,” Mason tells me.
I swallow thickly, feeling guilt settle in my stomach. “She needs you to be there,” he says an
d I wonder if he’s just saying that to make me listen to his order, or if he really means it.
I nod my head reluctantly as the crosswalk sign flips back, and the crowd around us crosses the street.
I hesitate, only for a moment, but then I turn my back and follow Mason to the car. That’s when I decide to do what I’ve been wanting to do for a long damn time. I take out my cell phone and text Kat, I’m coming home.
Chapter 30
Kat
* * *
You can’t hide from me,
No matter how hard you try.
I know your tells, I know your thoughts,
Now look me in the eye.
Don’t stow away, don’t shut me out,
I’m only here for you.
I want to help, I’ll ease your pain,
Just tell me what to do.
He’s acting weird.
Ever since we left dinner last night, Evan’s been shut off.
He didn’t tell me why we had to leave and I’m honestly sick of it. I grit my teeth and gave in to leaving yesterday. I gave him a full day to explain. But I’ve had enough.
Evan checks his phone again as an explosion on the television booms through the living room. He doesn’t flinch or react. He’s numb.
I scroll through the list I’ve added to the baby registry. Maddie sent me a check-off chart and it’s so, so long. I was enjoying it though. All the clothes in miniature and every odd and end, from pacifier holders to little mittens.
But even as a small smile slips across my lips and my hand moves to my belly, I’m distracted. Something’s wrong with Evan.
I peek up at him again, moving my ass into the cushion and pulling the throw closer to me. “Why do you keep checking your phone?”
“It’s nothing,” he answers.
I’m slow and deliberate as I push myself into a seated cross-legged position across from my husband on the sofa.
The expression on his face is one I’ve seen before, the what is she doing look.
He sets his phone down beside him, and I don’t take my eyes off his, but I notice how he tries to hide it.
Scarred: Sins and Secrets Series of Duets Page 15
