Chapter Eighteen

Megan

 

 

 

 

After three long months, I’ve finally finished organizing the club’s financing. It feels great to have finished it, and as much as I didn’t agree with the fact that my boss wanted me to fudge the numbers to begin with, I’ve done it well.

A lot has changed since I first walked through that door. These people . . . they’re not just strangers anymore. They’re my friends—my family. They all play their part, and if my part is to add a few zeroes here or take a couple away there, I’m happy to help them out.

Everyone has been so accepting of me and, for the most part, the people are great. I love hanging out with the girls. They make me feel like I belong in a way I never really have my whole life. Ryder and I have become so close so fast, it's like we were never apart.

I walk out of the bathroom to find Ryder sitting at my counter waiting for me.

He reaches for me. “So how about we stop torturing your roommate and get a place of our own?”

I nearly drop my coffee. “You think? I’m sure Chrissy doesn’t mind.”

“Fine. I mind.” He places a kiss on my lips. “I spend practically every night at your place anyway. You refused to stay over at the club because of the last time when one of the brothers thought our room was unoccupied and brought a club whore back.” He kisses me again. “I want you to myself. I want to come home to you, and only you. I want the life we were supposed to have seven years ago.”

After a speech like that—and that many sentences in a row from Ryder could be classed as a speech—how could I not move in with him.

“Okay, you can't be the one to tell her. She’s my best friend. This has to come from me.” I push away from him to grab my purse and keys. Today is the first day that I'll be going back to my normal job.

“Deal, but do it soon. I’ll start looking for places.” His hand smacks my ass and I shoot him a look.

“See you after work?”

“Count on it.”

It feels so strange driving to the office instead of the clubhouse today. Mr. Duncan asked me to come see him once I got into the office and I'm hoping it's a “You did a great job, here's a promotion” meeting and not an “I looked over your work and it sucks” kind of one.

I knock on Mr. Duncan’s door, nerves rolling around in my stomach. I’m so glad I didn’t eat breakfast. 

“Ah, Miss Hendrix, good to have you back.” He waves his hand at the chair in from of his desk. “I looked over your work and I have to say I'm impressed. It's very clean, and you completed the project two weeks ahead of schedule. After discussing it with Mr. Shie, we would like to promote you to Senior Accountant. That means more high-level work and, obviously, a pay increase.”

I can't help the huge smile on my face. “That would be amazing. Thank you so much, sir.”

“You’re very welcome. Have a great first day back.” He offers me a nod and I get up from my seat, managing to contain my happy dance until I’m out of sight and earshot of his office.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur. I'm assigned new cases and given an actual office, instead of just a desk in the midst of everyone else. I texted Ryder when I found out and he’s taking me out to dinner once I get back tonight.

I look at the clock and it's 5:00 p.m.

I grab my things completely exhausted and on my way out to my car, I run into Connor in the lobby. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

I smile, turning to walk backward as I talk to him. “Thank you. Today has been so crazy. I wonder if things will always be like this?”

I spin back and head for the car park. As I walk toward my car, I notice it’s at a weird angle. Then I see the tire.

It’s flat.

Damn, I don't know how to change a stupid tire. I reach for my phone to call Ryder.

“I can give you a ride to your place, if you want?”

I nearly drop my phone, my heart racing. “Connor, I didn’t know you were still there.” I look back and forth between my flat tire and him. The hairs on the back of my neck are on end, but I don’t know why.

“Um, I think I’ll be okay, I’m going to call Ryder and have him deal with it.” I give him a smile and thank him for his offer, and he nods then walks away. The phone rings until I get Ryder’s voicemail. I wait for the beep and leave a message.

“Hey, it’s me, I’m still at work and my car has a flat. Call me when you get a chance.”

I look around and see Connor, about to pull out of the lot. I wave to him and he turns around and drives over, rolling down his window as he pulls up next to me. “Hey.”

“Think I could take you up on that ride after all?”

He leans over and opens the door from the inside. “Of course. Hop on in.”

“Thanks so much. I drove through some construction roads today and I must have run over a nail. I live on the corner of Cramer and Green Street.”

We pull out of the lot and I relax against the seat.

As the trees flick past the car, I glance over at Connor. He’s quiet; even more so than usual. The radio isn’t on, which makes the silence in the car all the more consuming.

“So how has everything been while I’ve been gone?”

“Lonely.”

Something about his voice makes me uncomfortable. It’s darker; more solemn.

Fear escalates inside of me. I don’t know what exactly is going on but the air in the car changes quickly, making me long for the simple silence of five minutes ago. Connor’s hands grip the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. I lean forward slowly, trying to reach for my purse, hoping to grab my phone.

Connor reaches over, grabbing my purse and flinging it into the back seat.

“Not a good idea, Megan!”

He opens his center console and reaches in, the sunlight catching on the heavy metal, making me wince and blink. When I open my eyes I see it properly, and my blood runs cold.

“You and I are going to go for a little ride. We’re going to fix everything that you broke.”

My hands grip the seat beneath me as his hand rests on the center console, the gun bouncing around with every bump and pothole in the road. I keep my eyes forward, trying to even out my breathing.

Stay calm.

Just keep him talking.

“Maybe we can talk and figure this out, Connor. Why don't—”

“Don’t call me that!”

The car swerves and all around us horns blare. I glance at him as he runs his hand through his hair and I see the tremble. He looks over at me. His eyes are near black and his skin has taken on a gray pallor, a lock of his disheveled hair falling over his eyes. “Don’t call me that ever again.”

“Isn’t that your name?”

The car swerves violently again and I look up just in time to see the sign for the highway. I have no clue where he might be taking me, but it’s in the opposite direction to home. I think about the message I left for Ryder. Could he be trying to contact me?

He hasn’t answered my question, but pure instinct tells me not to risk repeating myself.

Ten minutes pass before the car turns off the highway. As we drive through the neighborhood, realization sets in. The familiar tree-lined streets. The old post office. The broken gate to the playing fields that still hasn’t been fixed.

The car comes to a stop in front of my old house. I look over at him.

“What are we doing here? Who are you?”

He lifts the gun, training it on my head. “You will get out of this car and walk up that path as if nothing is wrong. If you try to yell for help or alert anyone, I’ll shoot, and from this distance I won’t fucking miss.” His lips curl and there’s humor in his voice when he adds, “Understand?”

I nod, not trusting my voice.

“Go.”

Getting out of the car my legs feel weak, almost as if they won’t hold up the weight of my body. I stumble out of the car, gripping the doorframe, my hands following the curves of the hood, using it to keep myself upright until I step up onto the sidewalk.

I climb the stairs to the house I lived in for most of my life.

When we get to the top, Connor pulls out a key and unlocks the door.

Does he live here?

I pause in the doorway but Connor nudges me inside with the barrel of the gun against the small of my back. He steers me toward the living room.

It hasn’t changed at all.

“What are we doing here?”

“You still don’t get it?” He stares at me as if I should be having some great revelation. “After all these years, you don’t even recognize me. I get it, though. I probably weighed just as much then as I do now. Years of depression and abandonment will do that to you.”

I search my brain but come up with nothing.

“I’m sorry, I have no—”

“Do you remember what you said to me that day?” He starts to laugh. “I’ll come and visit. I promise. Bullshit! You are a fucking liar!”

Oh my God.

“Timmy?” I whisper, my eyes running over his face, looking for any trace of the boy I left behind all those years ago.

“Ding, ding, ding. You finally fucking got something right!”

The entire situation is so fucked up, I don’t even know where to start. I drop down onto the dirty floral couch and stare up at him. He looks so different from the overweight, acne-ridden twelve year old I knew. But as I look harder, I see glimmers of softness where there are now hard planes. His hair is different, but I remember the twinkle in his eyes.

Timmy.

“You left me here with these assholes. You promised you'd be back. You said you loved me! But it was all a fucking lie.”

I reach for him, wanting to take the gun from his trembling hand and put it down somewhere safe so we can talk properly. “No, after I left, they told me I couldn’t come back. Mom and Dad, they—”

He flinches away from me, taking a step back and lifting the gun higher, the tremor more pronounced now. “Don’t you call them that! They were never parents to me, not to any of us.” His free hand scrubs his face. “They didn’t give two shits about what happened to us, but they’ll regret that now.”

He sits down across from me and looks out the window, the gun resting on his knee but the barrel now directed at the floor.

“Mommy and Daddy are going to get one hell of a homecoming when they walk through those doors.”

I close my eyes, saying a silent prayer that somehow, some way, I can figure a way out of this mess because if Timmy has a gun trained on me now, I have no clue what he has planned for when Mom and Dad arrive.

Maybe I can talk him down.

Or maybe Ryder will figure out I’m gone and come looking for me.

Fuck, I hope he finds me.