CHAPTER SEVEN

“I Feel Like I’m Drowning”

Evan

The minute I hung up with Quinn, I began packing. It took no more than ten minutes for me to shove my things in my bag and get out the door. By the time I reached my car, I was physically shaking. Quinn’s call had rattled me. Someone broke into her house. Just the thought made my blood run cold. She was somewhere on the side of the road, scared out of her mind, and crying, while I was miles away and helpless to do anything about it.

“Fuck!” I shouted, slamming my hands on my steering wheel. I needed to get my shit together. No, what I needed was to get to Quinn as fast as humanly possible.

It wasn’t until I hit the main highway that I realized I’d forgotten to tell someone I was leaving. I shot Chaz a quick text saying I was headed home and to let Grant know. I shouldn’t have left Quinn this weekend. I knew it was the panic talking, but bad shit seemed to happen when I wasn’t around, like my wife deciding she wanted another man.

Quinn. From what I knew of her, she was a woman who didn’t easily give into emotion. Her tears told me exactly how scared she was. It ate at me that I wasn’t there for her when she needed me. What surprised me more was that I even wanted to be, especially with all the shit that had been going down with Mandy.

Mandy. I knew in my gut she’d done this. She was pissed about the car and even more so because I wouldn’t give her the time of day. A part of me wanted to talk to her, to try to appeal to her better side, but that was just it...she didn’t have a better side. I was beginning to think she’d never had one.

Mandy and Quinn couldn’t be more different. Had this been Mandy, she would have demanded I drive home immediately and then would have proceeded to punish me for months after. Not Quinn. Quinn wanted me to stay with my friends, which only made me want to leave that much more. The irony was not lost on me.

I thought about Chaz and something he’d said this weekend. He pointed out that Mandy didn’t want out until after I’d made it official with Meltdown. He was right. She claimed it was because I’d lied to her, but Chaz thought it was about the money. I wasn’t so sure. Chaz wasn’t there the day I left for the tour. Mandy’s anger wasn’t about money then. She was mad she wasn’t getting her way. The fact that she then went out and cheated on me is what blows my mind. Was this the first time or had she been cheating all along?

My mind wandered back to the money thing and how furious she’d been when I told her I’d hired someone to help manage the finances. Up to that point, she’d been doing it. I thought she would be happy, if not relieved, but she didn’t act relieved. She was furious that I would allow some stranger to handle our money. Could this really be about money? Or was it about control? The woman definitely liked her control.

Fuck! I was going to go insane trying to figure this shit out. One thing was for sure, Mandy was a game player. When she didn’t get what she wanted, she wasn’t afraid to pull off the gloves and throw punches. If I could go back in time, I never would have touched her, but I couldn’t, and now, here we were...

The summer after I graduated from college, I put together a demo of songs and hit the pavement looking for restaurants and bars to play. My sole focus was music.

My father, however, had a different plan. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps, to one day take over his law firm and become one of Houston’s top litigators. He honestly thought I would just fall in line with his plan, that I would give up on music once and for all. What he didn’t take into consideration were my feelings on the matter. I didn’t want to go to law school. I would rather tend bar for the rest of my life. At least then I would be living life instead of spending it sitting behind a desk while kowtowing to a bunch of greedy assholes and cheating on my wife. Unlike my old man, my kids would know me.

That summer, when he offered me a job at his firm, I took it. Not because I gave two shits about him or the job, but because it allowed me to do what I wanted—to pursue music. For three months, I worked days and gigged nights. It was the perfect setup.

It was one of those nights that I ran into Mandy. We’d gone our separate ways after the break up but had crossed paths a time or two over the years. It was apparent we’d both changed. She was still as gorgeous as ever, but in an older, more mature way. I was the same, but slightly more serious and a hell of a lot more driven.

“It’s so good to see you, Evan. Why don’t you stay and have a drink with me?” she’d asked. For old time’s sake I took her up on it. One beer turned into too many and by the time we landed in her bed, I was hammered. That night we had sex. That night I also, apparently, forgot to use a condom.

The next morning, I bailed, leaving her still asleep in her bed. It was a dick move, but I shouldn’t have slept with her in the first place. I had no intention of rekindling our high school romance, nor did I have time for women or dating. My plan was to get my music noticed. Until that happened, I needed to stay focused.

That focus lasted until the very next week, when I saw her again. This time, she was front and center, wearing a barely-there sundress and a smile on her face. Once the show was over, she found me, and like the week before, she asked if I wanted to have drinks. I politely declined. Seeming cool with my answer, she offered to help me load my gear into my car. I wasn’t stupid. I knew what she wanted, and after explaining that I wasn’t looking for a relationship, I gave it to her. That night, it was in the backseat of my car. At least I remembered to use a condom that time. The week after, I nailed her behind the building and the one after that we did it in the men’s bathroom. After the bathroom incident, I told her it was over and that’s when she told me she thought she was pregnant.

Three weeks later, the pregnancy was confirmed. Mandy and I were going to be parents...

It was hard not to think about all the years we’d spent together. All the times I’d given into her and the ugly fights when I hadn’t. I’d tried to be a good husband. Even when I’d wanted to give up on us, I still tried. If only I hadn’t slept with her that night. If I’d listened to my brain instead of my dick, I wouldn’t be here now. I would be racing back to a woman I could actually have. A woman with more integrity in her little finger than Mandy had in her whole body. A woman who would never in a million years settle for being trapped inside a loveless marriage.

Thinking about what should have been was getting me nowhere, so I focused my thoughts on Bobby and Tut and our pending meeting. I almost didn’t care what they had to say. I just wanted out. If I had to go broke to get rid of her, so be it. I could always make more money.

I pulled up to Alex-Ann’s house a little after eight. She met me at the door with a troubled look on her face.

“What happened? Is Quinn okay?”

“She’s fine. She’s sleeping. She’s just...worried that she scared you.”

“Fuck yeah she scared me,” I replied.

“No, like worried that she scared you off,” she whispered in a conspiratorial tone. I wanted to discuss my feelings for Quinn with her best friend about as much as I wanted to get back together with Mandy—as in, not at all.

“Where is she?” I asked.

“Evan—”

“Where. Is. She.” I repeated more forcefully. After an impressive eye roll and a loud sigh, she led me to Quinn, who was out like a light, and from the sound of it, sawing some seriously big logs.

“Pretty, ain’t she?” she asked, her tone laced with humor. Quinn Kinley was beyond pretty. Even in sleep, with her mouth open and that God-awful sound coming out, she was gorgeous.

As if sensing us standing there gawking at her, Quinn’s eyes opened.

“You’re here,” she sweetly murmured. Her husky, sleep filled voice and the way in which she was looking at me, as if my being there made everything in her world okay, was like a shot of ice water straight into my veins. And that’s when it hit me. I cared for this woman. Not just as a friend, but as more. She felt the same. I could see it in the way she was looking at me. This can’t happen, I thought. Whether I wanted it or not, I was still married, and Quinn deserved better. Red hot anger surged through me.

“Let’s go,” I snapped. Her sleepy expression turned alert.

“Is everything okay?” The concern in her voice made me feel even shittier.

“It’s fine. I just want to see the house before the police return to question me. Also, Bobby and Tut should be rolling in this afternoon and I need your help getting their rooms ready.”

“Bobby and Tut?” Alex-Ann inquired.

“His PI’s,” Quinn told her.

“My friends,” I corrected. My harsh tone stopped the conversation in its tracks. Without another word, Quinn scooted from the bed.

“I’ll close Margo’s tonight. Come by for dinner,” she murmured to Alex-Ann on the way out the door.

“You go with Evan. I’ll bring your car to you later,” Alex-Ann responded.

“Don’t,” I said, once we were secured inside my car.

“Don’t what?” she asked. I could feel her staring at me—those beautiful gray eyes, searching, questioning, wondering what was going on inside my head.

“Don’t close the bar tonight.” I started the car and pulled onto the main road.

“Why?”

I thought about what to say, but couldn’t come up with anything good, so I settled for, “Just...don’t.”

“Sunday’s are slow. Plus, your friends are in town. It’s really no bother.”

“Fucking go to work, Quinn!” I snapped in a much harsher tone than I meant.

“Fine, I’ll go.” She sounded...defeated, and I suddenly wanted to punch something. No, what I wanted was to pull her to me and kiss the hurt from her lips. Taking a deep breath, I turned to find her staring out the window. Shit.

“Hey—”

“Leave it,” she responded in the same dull tone. I didn’t want to leave it. I wanted to push, to prod, to crack her wide open...just like she was doing to me, but I knew if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop. Fucking hell. What was I doing? Why was this happening now?

Ten minutes later, I turned onto the drive that led to the house. Before I had a chance to come to a complete stop, Quinn was out of the car. I’d messed up. I was frustrated and had taken it out on her.

Slowly, I got out of the car and retrieved my duffle from the back. Then I followed her. Instead of confronting the situation, like I wanted, I decided to give her a moment while I checked out the damage. The living room had pillows on the floor and drawers pulled open, but Quinn said nothing was missing. My bedroom was a mess. Drawers had been sifted through and clothes scattered, but again, nothing was missing. Then again, the only shit that mattered to me was sitting in the pool house.

The pool house.

“Fuck!” I shouted as I shot out the door and raced down the stairs.

Quinn stepped out of the kitchen as I passed by. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“The pool house!” I shouted back at her.

“Shit!” I heard her respond. My heart seized in my chest when I saw the sliding doors standing wide open.

“No. No. No. No. Nooooooo!” I shouted as I reached the entrance and saw the destruction.

All three guitars, including the one I’d purchased with my chore money, the one that I rarely played anymore but loved beyond words, were scattered in pieces around the room.

“Oh my God,” Quinn whispered behind me.

Whoever did this didn’t believe in God, that’s for sure. I took in my piano, my pride and joy, and noted the deep grooves carved into the shiny black surface. Scattered on the floor next to it were the remnants of my electric keyboard and recording unit. All of it had been destroyed.

“Who would do something like this?” she asked. I knew exactly who’d done this. Mandy had done this, and all because I wouldn’t give her what she wanted. As I stared at the grooves gouged into the piano, I thought about the similar grooves I’d made on the brand-new hardwood floors, the same grooves I’d refused to have repaired. Yes, I knew exactly who had done this...

My very first view of our new home consisted of me following my wife from room to room as she packed her bags to leave, the entire time sobbing about how sorry she was. Then why? I wanted to scream. The why of it no longer mattered. Mandy knew how much I valued trust. Next to love, trust was the most important thing in our relationship. By allowing another man to touch her, to be inside her, she’d irreparably broken that trust. Somehow, I managed to hold it together until she was gone. It was one thing to think my marriage was over and another to know it.

Eventually, I ended up in the master bedroom. As I took in the rumpled bed sheets, I wondered if this was the first time she’d cheated or if there had been others. If so, how many? I felt as if a part of me had died. In a way it had. Why now? Why when I could finally give her everything? Wasn’t I enough? No. I’d never been enough, and she’d never stopped reminding me of it. I stood there staring at that bed for who knows how long before finally giving into the grief.

Much later, I made my way across the hall to the guest bedroom, where I crashed in an exhausted heap on top of the bed.

The next morning, I woke up angry. When had I become so blind? How did I not see what was happening right in front of my face?

A shower and two cups of coffee later, I called a locksmith. Then I redecorated. I wasn’t planning on keeping this place. I meant it when I’d told Mandy she could buy it from me. I thought about tossing her things onto the front lawn but couldn’t bring myself to do it, so I moved them off to one corner of the living room. As a nice fuck you, she’d had the piano placed in a room adjacent to the living room. Not only was it too small, but the acoustics were nonexistent. Reverently, I stroked my fingers over the shiny black surface. At the same time, I gazed at the creamy white walls and dark wood floors. Mandy had come from nothing. I’d tried to give her the world, but no matter how hard I’d tried, I could never seem to satisfy her. In her attempt to make this place fancy, she’d erased the heart of it. Now, all that remained was a lonely, sterile existence.

Over and over, my mind kept coming back to the same thought: This never would have happened had our child survived.

I would have been a great dad, I thought as I scanned the piano for scratches, all the while fuming that she’d put it in such a crappy place. Mandy knew how much it meant to me, yet she’d shoved it off to the side—just like she’d done to me, to our marriage. I should have divorced her years ago. Why did I stay? After moving the piano bench off to the side, I attempted to roll the piano from the cramped room but couldn’t get it to budge. What the hell? My eyes dropped to the legs and a growl escaped. Of course, she’d taken the rollers off, probably out of fucking spite.

The wheels were nowhere to be found, however, in my search through the kitchen drawers, I discovered some old muslin cloth. After placing it under the feet, I managed to successfully drag the piano through the open doorway and into the living room. As I reached the final destination, I noticed the muslin cloth strewn across the floor and the giant gouges left in the wake of my efforts. Oh well, there was nothing I could do about it now...

As payback, the vengeful bitch had scratched my piano. Bobby better have something good for me.

“God, Evan, I am so sorry,” Quinn whispered. So was I. She waited for me to make a call to the police before following me back to the main house. On the way there, I asked about the security system.

When she explained that they didn’t have one on account of her father being old school, I said, “That’ll have to change. I’ll get Bobby and Tut on it.”

“Evan—”

“And don’t worry,” I continued, I’ll pay for the whole thing.”

“Stop.”

I stopped long enough to growl, “What?” Couldn’t she see that I was three seconds away from coming unglued?

“I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“Don’t be. This has nothing to do with you—”

“I know,” she cut me off. “But I’m still sorry.” She pulled me in for a hug, and I let her. I might have even hugged her back, but my mind was somewhere other than Quinn. My mind was on a woman I’d once cared for but now hated and the realization that there was a much finer line between the two than I’d ever imagined possible.

“Nash had a security system installed this past year. Bobby knows the guy who owns the company. I’ll get him on it this week. This won’t happen again,” I said, pushing back from her touch. Before she could respond, I turned and walked away.

I was sitting on the front porch when Bobby and Tut arrived. They’d barely stepped from their car when the police pulled up. Might as well kill two birds with one stone, I thought as I led them through the carnage that had once been my music room. They agreed with me. This was personal. After answering their questions and receiving assurances that they would investigate further, the officers took off. By then it was well after lunch and I was running on fumes.

Bobby wanted to use the bathroom, so I showed him and Tut to their rooms. On the way downstairs, I stopped off in the kitchen and found Quinn making sandwiches. Her eyes lifted to mine and her mouth tilted into a smile when she saw me standing there. As gorgeous as it was, I saw through that smile. I saw the hurt in her gray-eyed stare...the hurt I’d put there by being an ass. Mandy deserved my anger, but this woman did not.

“I’m sorry. I was a dick. I would love it if you would take off work tonight and for all of us to do dinner together.” Her brows shot to her hairline and I couldn’t tell if she was irritated or surprised. Either way, it was funny to see.

“You were a total dick, but I appreciate the apology.” Her dry tone and blunt delivery turned my smile into laughter. Believe it or not, I could actually admit when I was wrong.

With the tray of sandwiches in hand, she headed my way. “And, I already called and closed Margo’s for the night,” she whispered as she breezed past me. I followed her, laughing all the way.

While Quinn passed the tray around, Bobby jumped right in. “The receipt was legit. Amanda James purchased a man’s gold wedding band, size 8, with a credit card issued to a Baxter Keen,” he explained. Quinn, who was sitting next to me, started coughing.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Swallowed wrong,” she wheezed. She made several hand motions indicating her need for water and bolted from the room.

“Does that name ring a bell?” Tut asked once she was gone.

I shook my head. “Never heard of the guy.”

“Baxter is a yuppie financial planner who makes a decent living, owns his own house, and drives a nice car. Mandy didn’t pop up until I searched his social media accounts.” I watched as he typed something on his iPad. Holding it out to me, he said, “Have a look.”

Shit. I didn’t want to see the guy my wife had been nailing. My eyes, however, seemed to have a mind of their own, because I suddenly found myself staring down at a middle-aged man with light brown hair and a weak chin. Baxter Keen looked nothing like me. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or offended by this.

“Look at the photos,” Bobby instructed. I clicked onto the photo section of the page and frowned when Mandy’s face popped up. As I slowly scrolled through picture after picture of my wife—all in various poses and smiling happily with her new boyfriend—I felt sick.

“Great, so you found the guy she’s nailing. How does this help me?” I asked, holding out the tablet for him to take.

He nodded towards my hand. “Keep going and you’ll see.” Doesn’t he get it? I don’t want to see.

As instructed, I continued with my search. It didn’t take long to find what he wanted me to see. In this picture Mandy was front and center, with her hand in the air, and her eyes fixated on her ring finger—a finger sporting what had to be at least a three-carat diamond ring. This would be two carats more than she’d gotten from me. The caption beneath the picture read, “She said yes.”

“What the hell?” I growled. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Scroll back a few pictures,” Bobby instructed.

I scrolled back until I landed on what I thought was a wedding invitation, but as I read the words, I realized it was actually a save the date.

Amanda and Baxter are Tying the Knot.

Save the date \ 10.10.18 \ Las Vegas, Nevada

That’s a little over a month from now.

What game was she playing? This...picture, this whole damn situation, was absolutely ridiculous. I mean, seriously, had she lost her fucking mind? I tore my gaze from the iPad long enough to find Bobby and Tut watching me, both with expectant looks on their faces.

“She can’t do this,” I announced.

“She can if the divorce is finalized,” Tut muttered.

“I find it kind of convenient that it’s right on the heels of your appointed court date. Don’t you?” Bobby asked.

Tut nodded in agreement. “Hell yes, I do. If I was you, I would stall.” I didn’t want to stall. I wanted out, but the hell if I was handing my money over to that cheating bitch and her weak chinned loser of a boyfriend. Still, I felt like I was missing something.

“I don’t get it. If she wants money, then why break into Quinn’s house and not take anything?” I asked. “And how did she find out I was living here?” The few people who knew would never tell her.

Bobby frowned. “I don’t think this was about money. This was the action of a woman scorned.”

“Is she still calling you?” Tut asked.

“You know, now that I think about it, she hasn’t called since yesterday morning.”

“Before the break in,” Bobby noted.

“Maybe I should talk to her.”

“No, don’t. I feel like we’re missing something,” Bobby muttered.

“Same here,” Tut chimed in.

“I don’t like it either, but what would you have me do?” I asked.

“I’m not sure, but if you give us more time, we’ll figure it out,” Bobby answered.

“Done. As long as you’re staying, I’ll need you to contact the guy who installed Nash’s security system. I want the best he has to offer.”

“What happens if we prove Mandy did that?” Tut asked, pointing towards the pool house. Oh, she’d definitely done it. Of that, I had no doubt.

“She pays for it,” I answered.

“You would actually press charges?” I could tell Bobby was testing my resolve on the issue. Cheating on me and planning to marry another guy, was one thing, but breaking into the place I was living, destroying my things, and scaring the shit out of Quinn, was entirely another. Call me heartless, but Mandy had crossed a line.

“I gotta say, this is some seriously fucked up shit,” Tut muttered. I couldn’t agree more.

Our conversation eventually drifted from my screwed-up marriage to their crazy friends from Charlotte. Bobby was in the middle of a funny story when we heard a knock on the front door.

“Got it!” Quinn called out, and that’s when I realized she wasn’t in the room with us. Now that I thought about it, she hadn’t returned after her coughing fit.

“Surprise!” a familiar voice shouted from the entry hall. What the hell? We all three stood as Olivia and Chaz stepped into the room.

“You are shit at checking your messages,” Chaz complained.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“You left so suddenly,” Olivia answered.

“Without telling anyone where you were going,” Chaz grumpily interjected.

Olivia shot him a scolding look before continuing, “Soooo, we decided to cut our trip with Grant and Mallory short in order to make sure you were okay and to see your new place.” Her hands flew into the air as she shouted, “Surprise!”

“Bobby, you dickhead!” Chaz roared at the same time.

Poor Quinn just stood there with a panicked look on her face.

“Hellooooo!” All eyes turned as Alex-Ann and Gretchen appeared from the kitchen area. “We’re here to see the hot meeen—” her voice faded the second she saw us all standing there. “Holy cowbells,” she whispered.

My eyes immediately shot to Quinn.

“Shit,” she mouthed, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

Shit was right.