Chapter 5
Snap
Work was work. Fridays were always a bit more hectic than other days. Wednesdays were big with the seniors, she’d learned, but on Fridays customers slammed the store with orders for the weekend. Scout barely had a chance to pee all day.
Around one o’clock they had their first lull since morning. She straightened up her register and tidied her drawer. She was just about to tell Nick she was going to take her lunch, when the back of her neck prickled. Turning, she spotted Mr. Gerhard coming down her aisle.
“Evelyn, I’d like to speak to you in my office, please.”
Her stomach knotted. Her manager, who wasn’t much older than her, carried himself as though he were in his fifties. For some reason this guy gave her an oozy feeling—not in a good way.
She nodded and shut her drawer, flicking off her light. Mr. Gerhard had a neatly trimmed mustache and thin lips under there somewhere. His glasses were dated and so thick they made his eyes huge. He always smelled of peppermint and coffee and looked as if he were made of wax.
They entered the glorified storage room that was his office and he gestured for her to take a seat in the metal folding chair. She waited for him to talk.
Sighing, he steepled his fingers and studied her for a long moment. “Ms. Keats, there seems to be a problem with your paperwork.”
Oh no. “What’s wrong?” It was likely her information. She’d applied for her job at Clemons before Lucian handed over her legal documents. She’d worked a myriad of jobs under false information, never having paid taxes a day in her life.
“Your social security number belongs to a man who died last April.”
She pretended surprise. It was all a random selection of digits. She hadn’t purposely tried to steal a dead person’s identity. “It does?”
“Yes, it does,” Mr. Gerhard said with zero amusement.
“I have my card in my bag. Maybe I got the number wrong.”
“I’ll need to see a copy of your card.”
She reached down and produced her identification papers. They were too precious and she’d gone without for far too long to not carry them everywhere with her. Life was unpredictable, and proof of identity was a new freedom she’d never had. She slid the papers across his desk.
He examined the documents carefully. “This is nothing close to what you put down.”
“Sorry. I recently moved. I’ve been doing a lot of paperwork and must’ve crossed that number with a number for something else.”
“I’ll have to copy this and send it down to headquarters.”
Mr. Gerhard seemed to think he worked for the CIA, not a local supermarket. “Sure. But I’ll need the original back.”
“Of course.” His posture relaxed as he tucked the card away. She didn’t like that he was keeping it for even more than a minute. “How are you enjoying your job so far?”
Aside from missing her lunch and starving and being forced to endure this awkward, private conversation? “So far so good.”
“Good.”
Several beats of time passed in uncomfortable silence. “Any problems I should know of?”
“Umm . . . no.”
“Good. Well, I’ll let you get back to work. Have you taken lunch yet? I was going to walk down to Little Sicily’s if you’d—”
Ew!
“I packed my lunch, but thank you.”
He looked regretful. “Perhaps another time.”
Not freaking likely, wax man. “Perhaps,” she said uncomfortably, likely wearing the most insincere smile to ever exist.
Scout stood and made her way to the door without looking back. When she returned to the main area of the store her appetite vanished. Sighing, she walked back to her register.
“What was that about?” Nick asked from the register beside her. He was folding a receipt in the shape of a football and proceeded to flick it into a basket at the end of his belt. His voice mimicked the sound of a crowd screaming in the distance when it reached its goal.
“Something with my paperwork.”
“You look frazzled. He ask you to comb his mustache or something?”
She snorted. “Ew, no! He tried to ask me to lunch though.”
Nick laughed, his blue eyes shutting as his head tilted back. He was her age and definitely made the days at Clemons go by faster. “That’s great! You too can have a bunch of little farsighted babies with receding hairlines and hairy lips!”
She threw an apple at him someone had left because it was bruised. “Shut up! It’s not funny.”
“Whatever you say, Mrs. Gerhard.”
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. The rush of customers petered out, and by three o’clock Scout regretted skipping lunch. She’d contemplated eating her sandwich on the sly at her register, but Mr. Gerhard appeared to return her social security card and once more obliterated her appetite.
As she walked the three blocks home, she decided she’d eat and then find the DMV so she could change over her address on her ID. Although she didn’t have a driver’s license, Nick, from work, told her that was where state IDs came from.
“Scout!”
The sound of her name being shouted so urgently had her jumping. She turned and sucked in a breath. Parker.
Her teeth locked down as he jogged across the street after her. She turned and quickly walked toward home. He must have been waiting for her outside of Clemons. He’d helped her apply for her job and was right to assume she wouldn’t give it up just because her life derailed—derailed partly because of him.
“Scout, wait!”
“Go away, Parker. I have nothing to say to you.”
Her feet slapped against the pavement as she sped up. She didn’t want to even look at him.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Tough!” She turned the corner and heard him closing on her. Could she just have one day without assholes from her past stalking her every step?
“Please wait.”
Saying nothing, she marched on, her lips pursed tightly over her clenched teeth and her eyes narrowed. Parker used to be her best friend, but proved to be nothing but an underhanded schmuck.
“Scout, please—”
Hissing in frustration, she turned on him. “What could you possibly want?”
She gasped. Jesus Christ. His face was a hodgepodge of black and blue bruises. There was a gash over his left eye and his jaw was discolored with a smattering of ugly green marks. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Lucian’s what happened to me. Scout, don’t you see? He isn’t safe.”
Her lips tightened. She wasn’t falling into this pissing match. “Well, he isn’t in my life anymore, so you can find another cause.” Pivoting, she walked off.
He grabbed her arm, and that was mistake number one. She turned on him and a beast emerged from within her. “Don’t touch me!”
He flinched and immediately let go of her arm. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
She laughed bitterly. “Sorry? You’re sorry? Oh, well, doesn’t that just fix everything. How’s this, Parker? Fuck you!”
“I never meant to hurt you.”
She’d had just about enough of men and their crap. “Hurt me? You didn’t hurt me. I’m not the one standing here covered in bruises.”
“You know what I mean.”
She stepped into his space and shoved a finger in his face. “Let me clear something up for you. It takes more than some self-serving asshole to hurt me. If I was hurt, I’d have to care and I don’t! I don’t care about you. I don’t care about our past. I don’t care about anything you may think I do. Your arrogance is what got you into this mess, so I’m going to do you a favor and tell you your intuition sucks. You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about the person I am or the things that hold meaning to me. You. Are. Nothing. So go play your games with someone who gives a shit.”
His shoulders drooped, his expression dejected. “I did it to protect you.”
Emotion bit at her throat, and tears burned her eyes.
“Protect me?” she barked. “Since when do I need someone to protect me? I was the one looking out for your dumb ass all those years! You may know how to read and sell stocks, but you don’t know shit about surviving. You know and I know this ambitious act you’ve been putting on is all bullshit. I’m not buying it, and I regret the day I ever trusted anything out of your mouth. Now, leave me alone.”
The blood rushed from his battered face. “You don’t mean that.”
“I mean every word,” she growled.
“Scout . . . I love you.”
Rage choked her, but she shoved it down. Shutting her eyes, she growled. His proclamation did nothing for his case. It merely irritated her a hundred times more. “Love, Parker? Really? Let me tell you something about love. People write about it because it’s harder than any war and greater than any epic. It’s vast and cold and empty and usually unrequited. That’s what love is. It’s misery and if you love me I’m glad, because I’ll never love you back and that is exactly what you deserve.”
She turned and walked away. He didn’t follow. Fuck the DMV. She was going home and if she ventured anywhere it was going to be to a liquor store. When she saw the insurance office below her apartment relief set in. Almost home.
As Scout rounded the alleyway to her apartment door, she came up short. Nerves pinched at the back of her neck as she intruded on two unkempt men passing money and drugs. They jumped at her sudden appearance. Great. They were blocking the few steps separating her from her home, and there was no way she was letting them see this was where she lived.
“You need something, girlie?” the man with a gap in his teeth asked.
“Uh, no. Just made a wrong turn.” She turned away to exit the alley.
“Well, now wait a minute. Maybe we can help you find what you’re looking for,” the other man said.
She kept walking. “No. I’m set.”
Gap-tooth skipped alongside her and cut her off before she could reach the sidewalk. “Pretty thing like you shouldn’t be walking around by yourself. Young too. Bet you aren’t even eighteen. What do you think, Kev?”
She scowled at the scumbag. This wasn’t necessarily a bad section, but there was crime everywhere. It wasn’t late, but the alley was narrow and dark. While “Kev” was behind her, Gap-tooth was blocking her escape. Other than anyone who might be visiting the insurance agency beneath her apartment, there wasn’t much foot traffic going by.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said impatiently.
Gravel crunched behind her and her lungs seized. Fuck.
“Looks about sixteen to me,” Kev said.
Gap-tooth’s gap was slowly displayed in a lascivious reptilian grin. “She sure does.”
His hand lifted and without thought, Scout reacted. Something tired and outraged snapped inside her. Her fist connected with his nose, and he folded like a cheap metal chair. Her knee slammed into his face, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes to the ground. Goddamn men!
The other man shouted and grabbed hold of her arms.
A scream high enough to curdle blood ripped from her lungs. “Don’t touch me! Fire! Fire!”
He shoved her against the brick wall, her hair catching on the rough, porous surface, and she shoved her knee into his crotch. He grunted and she nearly vomited when spit came out of his mouth. “You fucking cunt!”
His grip tightened and she clocked him right in the ear. He howled and grabbed his head, stepping back. She kicked him in the nuts as hard as she could, and he dropped to writhe beside his partner in crime.
“Hey! What’s going on?”
She turned and a man in a suit was blocking the exit of the alley. She’d kick his ass too!
Her chest heaved as she panted, adrenaline pumping wildly through her veins. Fists clenched in front of her chest, she pivoted, waiting for one of the men to rise. They both were on the ground moaning as she huffed and shook.
“I need a police officer at twenty-three South Knights Boulevard,” suit man said into some fancy cell phone.
Instinctively, at the mention of the cops, Scout’s gut urged her to run. Having grown up under the circumstances she had, the law didn’t usually take kindly to her type, but she’d done nothing wrong and she wasn’t that type anymore. She had papers and a home. She’d merely defended herself. It took everything she had not to run and hide.
She grabbed her bag off the ground and quickly left the alley.
“The cops are coming. You can’t leave.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong!” she snapped at Suit Man.
“You have no business being in this alley,” he snapped back, like an adult chastising a small child.
“I live here!”
He drew back. “Are you Evelyn?”
Finally, some clarity. She assumed his suit meant he worked in an office. Knowing her name meant he likely worked in the insurance office below her apartment. “Yes. I moved in yesterday. These two assholes were doing some business I inadvertently interrupted, and they wouldn’t let me leave.”
He paled. “Holy crap. Are you okay? Do you need to sit down? Ellen!”
A rotund woman in a purple suit came out the door to the office. “What? I’m on the phone, Elliot.”
He scowled at her. “This is Evelyn, the new tenant upstairs. She was just attacked. Take her inside and give her some water and a place to sit until the cops get here. I don’t want these two vagrants getting away.”
The woman’s mouth popped open like a trout. “Oh, dear! Come along, sweetie. Are you hurt? Do you need anything? Imagine, such a small girl like yourself being accosted. What’s happening to this world? I tell you . . .”
She continued to prattle on as she shuffled Scout into the small insurance office and shoved her into a seat. Scout gazed at the ceiling longingly. Home was so close. All she wanted to do was get there. From one of those blue coolers, the woman poured a glass of water and wrapped Scout’s fingers around the little plastic cup.
Lights flashed outside and she turned as a uniformed officer stepped out of his car. Through the glass, Scout could see Elliot talking to the policeman. Moments later the men were being pressed over the hood of the squad car and cuffed. Another police car arrived on the scene, no doubt after the officer discovered whatever was in the little baggie the gap-toothed man had been purchasing.
The insurance woman—Scout couldn’t remember her name—paced by the window, chattering like a small bird trapped in the large body of a woman. Scout had the distinct impression Elliot was her husband.
The door opened and the officer stepped in. He scanned the room, and when his gaze landed on her she drew back and shrunk in her chair. Cops had never been nice to her. Even as a child, she’d been taught not to trust them because, if caught, they had the power to take her from her mom.
“Evelyn?”
She nodded.
“I’m Officer Ludlow. How are you doing?” His voice and soft expression claimed sympathy, but Scout wasn’t falling for it.
She shrugged. “Okay.”
He grinned. He had very white teeth that were slightly crooked, but still made a nice smile. “You did quite a number on those guys out there. Did you take self-defense?”
Yes. The course was called Life and Basic Survival 101. Scout shook her head, and his expression sobered.
“I know you’re pretty shook up. I just need a statement from you, and then you can go.”
She didn’t like being put into this position. Authority made her nervous. She wanted Lucian, which was odd, being that he held more authority than anyone in Folsom. Or perhaps that was why.
“Hon, do you think you could tell me what happened?”
She wasn’t his honey, and the endearment did nothing to open her up. Her voice seemed lodged somewhere deep in the pit of her belly, and her trembling had morphed into a full-body tremor as her adrenaline ebbed.
Scout faced the woman in the office . . . Ellen, she thought. For some reason she was able to speak to the woman. Clearing her throat, she said, “Could you get someone on the phone for me?”
Ellen rushed to her desk. “Sure, sweetie.” Her chair creaked as she sat and her manicured fingers grasped the receiver. “What’s the number?”
“Um . . . I’m not sure. It’s . . .” He would be at work. Patras Industries. But her request wouldn’t budge past her lips.
You can do this! You do not need him!
Fear had her trembling. If she called him, he’d come. He’d handle everything and get her out of this mess as quickly as possible. Lucian would know exactly how to proceed. But she didn’t want to keep running to him whenever she needed help.
Eying the cop, she felt the same anxious tremors she’d always suffered when faced with an authority figure. You’re not a child anymore! They can’t take you away from your mom. She thought about Pearl, alone and afraid in rehab. She was doing her part, and this was Scout’s.
Swallowing back her request, she glanced at Ellen. “Never mind.”
“Are you sure, dear?”
No, but she nodded anyway. When the phone returned to the receiver, Scout faced the officer. “What do you need to know?”
“Why don’t you start with what you were doing in the alley?”
“I live upstairs.”
“There’s a small efficiency above our office,” Ellen confirmed. “The landlord notified us yesterday that Evelyn was the new tenant.”
The officer jotted down some notes in a little tablet and faced Scout again. Could you explain what happened from the time you arrived?”
She was fighting with everything she had not to fall apart. Her thoughts were jumbled and her hands wouldn’t quit shaking. Swallowing, she kept her focus on the man’s badge and explained what had taken place. She told him they’d been making a drug deal, how they tried to corner her, how they grabbed her, and how she just reacted.
“You did a fine job of defending yourself.”
She blinked at the admiration, but his praise meant nothing. What was she supposed to do? Let them attack her without fighting back?
Once he took down her information, he thanked her and left. She sat for a few moments just staring at the empty space where the squad car had been.
“Would you like me to walk you to your door, Evelyn?”
Reminded of her surroundings, she blinked up at the man in the suit. What was his name? “No, thank you. I should go.”
As she stood, her legs wobbled. She scooped up her belongings and thanked the insurance couple again. Her eyes combed every shadow as she made her way down the alley and quickly unlocked her door. Once she made it inside, she locked everything up tight.
Too stunned to cry, she climbed the stairs, stripped off her clothes and drew a bath. She did it, and she did it on her own.
***
Scout typically woke up a little after dawn, but the following morning she was up before the sun had a chance to rise. She jerked upright in bed and made a startled sound as something that sounded like a wrecking ball rattled her walls.
Scrambling out of bed, her foot caught on the cord of her lamp and knocked it onto the ground. “Shit!”
She righted the lamp and turned it on. Her feet turned in a circle as she tried to find her bearings. It was six in the morning. Shuffling to the kitchen, she grabbed a butter knife and her one-cup coffeepot. Not the best weapons, but they would do.
Marching down the dim steps of her apartment, she quietly waited, only to flinch when the banging started again. “Who is it?” she hissed.
“Evelyn?”
She frowned and lowered her weapons. “Lucian?”
“Open the door.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Open. The damn. Door.”
Sighing, she shifted the knife and coffeepot in her hands and unlocked the door. Pulling it open, she snapped, “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
He wasn’t dressed like he usually was outside of the penthouse. He wore dark jeans, a rumpled sweater, and his jaw was unshaven. Shoving his way through the door, she gasped as his arm shot out in front of her. “What the hell is this?”
She glanced at the papers twisted in his fist. “It’s a newspaper.”
His jaw ticked. “Explain to me, why—at five in the morning—I am reading your address and description in the criminal reports.”
Her mouth opened. “What? I told them I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“You were attacked?” She jumped at the sharpness in his voice. He didn’t give her time to reply. “Why the hell didn’t you call me?”
Her lips firmed. “It had nothing to do with you.”
“Your safety has everything to do with me!”
“Pfft! Please, Lucian—”
Her words cut off as he crowded her in the tiny entryway. “Do not act like your safety has not been my priority since we met. Jesus, Evelyn! What the fuck happened? Are you hurt?”
She blinked at him. He was really upset. “I . . . I handled it.” Her voice was smaller than she would have liked.
Lucian forked his fingers through his hair and dropped to the second step of her narrow staircase. His seemed totally distraught. “I want you to depend on me in times of trouble. Why won’t you?”
Because she couldn’t trust him to always be there. “I’m fine.” How had he found her? “Did they put my name in the paper?” That seemed a major violation of her privacy. She wished she could read the article.
“No. They put your description and the location of the attack and stated it happened only a few feet from your residence. Whoever runs the office downstairs must have made a statement to the media, because there’s an article on page six of the business section. I’ve already been to the police. Dugan handled the rest. No more interviews will be given regarding your personal life.”
Damn it!
He suddenly looked around the small entryway. “What is this place?”
“It’s my home.”
His brow kinked. “Since when?”
“A few days ago.”
Letting out an aggravated huff, his expression turned defeated. She didn’t like seeing him like that. He reached for her hand and she allowed the contact. His fingers ran over the crest of her knuckles. “Tell me what happened,” he said with gentle patience.
Scout drew in a deep breath and attempted to set him at ease. “I was heading home from work and as I turned into the alley, I accidentally walked up on two guys making a drug deal.”
His eyes narrowed. Under his breath he said, “We won’t touch the fact that I didn’t know where home was or work currently is. Go on.”
She swallowed. “They saw me and when I tried to turn and leave, they wouldn’t let me go.”
His hands tightened over hers. “Then what happened?” he asked through clenched teeth.
God, he was going to freak. “One guy blocked my way and I punched him in the nose. I put him on the ground, but the other guy grabbed me.”
“Motherfucker,” Lucian hissed.
“He only tried to . . . but I got him down too. Then Elliot showed up and called the cops.”
“Who the fuck is Elliot?”
“He runs the insurance office. We share the building.”
Lucian turned like a viper on her. “This man is a friend of yours?”
She rolled her eyes. “I was introduced to him yesterday, and you should be grateful. He called the cops.”
“He also gave away enough personal information that I could tell it was you in the paper!” His expression turned sympathetic. “You handled the cops on your own?”
He wasn’t asking because he thought her incapable, but more because he knew how much she feared officers of the law. Her smile was shaky, but proud as she nodded. “I did.”
“I would have come. All you had to do was call and I would have taken care of everything.”
Her gaze lowered to her bare feet. “I know. But this was something I needed to handle for myself. Don’t you see, Lucian? I need to start depending on me first. I can’t run to you every time life gets hard.”
“Why not?”
“Because we aren’t together anymore.”
His gaze held hers for a long minute. “But you let some stranger help you.”
“I didn’t ask for his help. I screamed and he showed up.”
“You screamed?” he rasped.
“I was scared,” she confessed quietly.
“Jesus, Evelyn,” he whispered. His lips thinned, as he appeared to battle the impulse to do something. She wasn’t sure if that something was kissing her or throttling her. Neither was welcome at the moment. She withdrew her fingers from his tight hold.
Nodding tightly, he stood. “You’re changing.”
Her head slowly shook. “No, Lucian, my circumstances are. This is who I’ve always been. You simply covered it up with fancy dresses and jewelry.”
“Don’t act like all we had was some superficial arrangement. You know it was more than that.”
“It was, but now it’s over. I have to do for me and I can’t do that worrying about you.”
“How do you shut it off, the worry?”
I don’t. She worried about him constantly; whether he was lonely, sad, taking care of himself. Although Lucian had the world at his fingertips, he only had a small circle of people he could really trust. “I just do.”
“I don’t know what hurts more,” he said. “Worrying about you or knowing you don’t worry about me.” He laughed without humor. “I’m supposed to be the hard one, Evelyn.”
“I was never soft.”
His onyx eyes drilled into hers. “You’re everything soft, everything gentle. No one said you couldn’t be strong too. Why do you assume I can’t see your strength?”
She stilled. She didn’t know why she thought that, but she did. Since they broke up, she created a list of faults in their relationship that didn’t necessarily mesh with what they shared. Anger toward Parker resurfaced as she contemplated all the negative thoughts he had put in her head. She didn’t know what to believe anymore, what was real and what was fabricated by her bruised ego.
“Do you see me as strong?”
His brows shot up. “You have as much, if not more, determination than me, Evelyn. It’s one of the things I love most about you, but you refuse to believe that. I don’t admire weak-willed people. Look at how far you’ve come . . . Sometimes I worry you’re so strong willed you’ll actually get to a point that you don’t need me. I need you to need me.”
And she needed independence. “Lucian . . .” What could she say? They were at an impasse. Aside from all their other issues, they were simply too broken to fix. She’d thought they were too different, but maybe the problem was they were too alike.
She fidgeted, as they both seemed to contemplate the stalemate situation they faced. Shifting her butter knife into her other hand, she held out the coffeepot, her only olive branch. “Would you like to come up? I can make coffee.”
Lucian eyed her skeptically, hope clear in his dark eyes. It would only be coffee. She couldn’t manage anything more.
Without taking his eyes off her, he withdrew his phone and pressed a button. After a second he said into the phone, “I’ll call you when I need a ride.”