Forever & More: The Friend Zone series Page 21

  I’ve heard nothing from Jay or her people, but I know they are watching; I’ve spotted the guy that roughed me up hanging around outside of BAR and following me. I’ve been waiting for them to approach me about taking so long, but they haven’t. With every day that goes by, I become more and more worried that their patience will run out.

  I grab the ledger books for BAR on our way out the door.

  “Why’d you call this guy?” Brady asks me. Kasey is waiting downstairs when we reach the bottom.

  “I need him to trace the accounts. I don’t want him to know why, I don’t trust him that much, but I’m not getting anywhere so I’m hoping he can,” I tell him.

  We say our hellos with Kasey.

  “Mind if I ride along?” Kasey knows what’s been going on and has helped some, but he’s been filling for Brady at BAR, so he hasn’t been able to help much.

  “Come on. We’re going to meet up with someone and search the storage building,” I inform him. That’s the only place we have left to look for any leads. It took a while for me to convince the storage attendant to let me in the room. The DA also played a huge role in that as well.

  We climb into Brady’s car and exit the parking lot. Immediately, I spot the same navy colored sedan that’s been trailing me for days. If this guys trying to stay in the shadows, he’s failing miserably, but if he wants me to know he’s watching, he’s succeeding. Either way, there’s nothing I can do about it at this point.

  The car lunges forward and I know that Brady knows about our tail.

  “Hang on, man,” he tells Kasey and me. I slide on my seatbelt, knowing Brady is about to give us the ride of a lifetime. The car barely slows when it lifts up on two wheels and takes the first right we come to, then quickly fishtails to the left onto another back road. From my seat in the back, I can clearly read the speedometer over Brady’s shoulder, and the yellow arm strains to touch the number seventy.

  “Slow the fuck down,” Kasey voices my thoughts.

  “We had someone on our ass. I’m not going to the middle of bum fuck Egypt for them to fucking jump me.” He shifts gears, decelerating just enough to make the next turn without wrecking. At this point, my ass hole is so tight it’s practically inverted into my throat; I’m that fucking scared of his driving.

  “Slow the fuck down!” I punch the headrest of his seat to emphasize my words. Like the jackass he is, Brady slams on the breaks, causing the tires to screech until we’ve come to a complete halt. Gravity doesn’t catch up to Brady’s driving abilities until I’m already being snatched back by the seat belt. Kasey isn’t as lucky; his head hits the dash.

  “Fuck!” he shouts.

  “Whatcha whining about? You wanted me to slow down.” He starts driving again. The two of them start bickering in the front seat. My attention leaves them and focuses on the same sedan that’s trailing us again. He stays farther back this time but never lets us out of his sight.

  It takes another ten minutes to arrive at our destination. We pull in to the chain link fence and slowly drive through the rows of garage doors attached to each other. Tom’s unit is hiding away in the very back. When we arrive, Mr. Catledge is already waiting for us. I get out, shake his hand, and make the necessary introductions.

  “Thank you for meeting with us. I’m having some trouble with some of Tom’s assets. I found this ledger and there are numerous places that have things missing or don’t make sense,” I tell him, handing the ledger to him.

  “You should probably seek the advice of an accountant.”

  I hold my hand up stopping his words.

  “I’m not asking if you can fix the books. I’m asking if you can track down banks, bankers, transfers, that kind of thing,” I inform him. He studies me for a moment before agreeing to the task.

  “I should have something by the end of the week.”

  “Sounds good to me. If I come up with anything before I hear from you, I will let you know.”

  He nods in agreement. “You mind telling me why I had to meet you all the way out here?” he asks.

  “Well, I’ve got to tear this storage building apart, and I wanted to meet you in a secluded place,” I tell him.

  “Is everything okay? Are you in some sort of trouble?” He looks concerned.

  “Let’s just say Tom possibly had something that belonged to someone else and they want it back.” I can give him that much.

  “All right. What exactly are you looking for in the building?” He looks past me to the door that Harley and Kasey are opening.

  “The same thing you are,” I answer.

  “Want some help?” he offers.

  “I think we can handle it, thanks.” I politely decline.

  “All right then, give me a call if you need anything else.”

  “Will do. Thanks for taking care of this.” I reach out my hand, as does he.

  Brady, Kasey, and I spend the next two hours digging through boxes, bags, file cabinets, and so on. Even though we donated or tossed most of his possessions, he still filled the building from top to bottom, corner to corner.

  “What the fuck are we even looking for?” Kasey asks.

  “How the hell are you looking for something when you don’t even know what it is?”

  Kasey shrugs but doesn’t reply.

  “Anything legal looking from a bank or lawyer’s office. Or anything shady. I don’t know.” I really don’t know what I’m looking for, I just know I’ll know what it is when I see it. There’s one box left in the corner of the room that I’ve been working on. I sit cross-legged on the floor. When I open the box, a small brown ball comes flying out.

  “Holy shit!” I scream like a girl and scramble to my feet. The terrified little mouse runs frantically around the room looking for an escape. Kasey steps out of its path, but Brady starts screaming at the top of his lungs.

  “Get it, get it, get it,” he screams, stumbling into a dresser. The dresser and Brady topple over, landing with a loud crash. The mirror propped against the wall behind them shatters into a million pieces. I rush over to help Brady, but Kasey beats me to it. Blood is gushing from the back side of his arm.

  “Shit,” he cusses. He pulls his shirt off and makes a tunicate for his arm.

  “Help me get the dresser back up.”

  Kasey takes one side of the flipped furniture and I take the other. With extreme effort, we lift the heavy oak structure and set it to the side out of the way. Lying on top of the glass is a thin piece of paneling covered with envelopes. I reach down, grabbing the closest one to me. The envelope itself is blank, but it’s stuffed with papers. I pull them out and the first thing I notice is the letterhead. It reads “Cayman National Bank” in bold letters.

  My excitement increases, this may very well be what we’ve been looking for. I pull out my phone and call Catledge back.

  “Can you come back?” I greet him.

  “Sure, everything okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I just found something else for you.” He tells me he’ll be back in just a few minutes.

  “What the hell is that?” Brady asks. I hand him the paper that sits on the top of the folded stack in my hand.

  “Dude, this is the offshore account shit, isn’t it?” he asks.

  “Pretty sure it is.” I read the first few pages but nothing jumps at me. None of it means anything until I turn the page.

  Chloe’s name is all over these papers. I keep turning and it’s the same thing. Her name at the top and various types of transactions and deposit amounts.

  By the time I get to the last page, Catledge is back. Brady fills him in on what we found. Months and months of transactions building up and collecting interest to the sum of four million six hundred thousand dollars and thirty two cents. The last transaction was April sixteenth, eight months ago almost to the date.

  “Why is Chloe the account holder?” Catledge asks.

  “My guess is that Tom either knew something was going to happen and left it for her or he didn’t wan
t it to be traced back to him.” Both are very likely to happen and I’m not sure it matters. What does matter is that we need to figure out a way to withdraw the money to give it to Jay.

  “So what now?” Catledge asks.

  “Well, I think we just found out where to start looking. I need you to dig up whatever you can.”

  “What kind of trouble are you in?”

  I look to Brady and Kasey. I want to tell him everything, but I don’t want to drag anyone else into this mess, and it doesn’t help that he works for the law. I decide to keep the information between Brady, Kasey, and myself, for now at least.

  “I’m not in trouble. Chloe was missing funds and we needed to figure out where they went.” The look on his face tells me he doesn’t believe me, not even a little bit.

  “Don’t forget you have my number if you need it.” He stresses his words.

  “I appreciate that, thank you.”

  He leaves with a page from the folded documents to start his search.

  “So what now?” Kasey speaks for the first time since the mouse attack.

  “We get the hell out of here and wait.”

  We lock up the building and leave.

  During the drive home, we are all silent, lost in our own thoughts.

  “Do you think Chloe knows anything about this?” Brady asks.

  “Not sure. I don’t think I’m the one to ask her right now, though,” I reply.

  “And why’s that?” he asks, damn well already knowing the answer to his question.

  I rub my face in frustration and growl, “Don’t start. I’m doing what I think is right. I need to get this taken care of. I don’t wanna get her mixed up in this mess.”

  “She’s already in this shit if you haven’t noticed. Her fucking name is all over those papers!” he yells.

  “You don’t think I don’t know that already? She has enough to worry about right now. She needs to get better, not worry about a missing million,” I rationalize.

  “Oh and you think an absent baby-daddy is any better? Do you even know what’s going on with her right now? Do you know what’s going on with your kid right now? Do you know the baby’s name or hell, even the due date? How about her therapy sessions? Do you know how they’re going? Are you there supporting her like you should be?” With each question, I feel smaller and smaller. He’s right, Harley’s kept me up with things like what I’m having or a doctor appointment for the baby but that’s it. I don’t know how she’s doing. I know nothing about her therapy, but, on the other hand, is that something I want to know? She tried to overdose while being pregnant. No matter how badly I want to be with her, it’s not something I can get past. How am I supposed to live my life looking at the woman that tried to kill a part of me? In all reality, she did kill a part of me that day; it was the part that loved her so much it hurt.

  Now, when I think about her, the love is still there but it’s tainted by her actions. I feel like a part of me is missing. It’s the part that makes my heart beat, it makes my lungs move, and it’s the part of me that makes me feel. I feel lost and completely alone. At one time in my life, I was used to this feeling; I wrapped myself in like a blanket, shielding myself from life.

  However, since Chloe stripped that comfort from me the day I saw her in that diner, and then again at BAR, I had forgotten how to find solace in the emptiness. I understand her more than she realizes. There was a point in my life where I had wanted to hide from the world, myself included.

  I was actually able to succeed, but it took drugs and alcohol to do it. For several years, I drowned my sorrows with tequila, and I suppressed my turmoil with oxycontin. There are so many moments in that time that I don’t remember, and that’s what I wanted. One night of fun became three years of a drug-induced memory lapse. I can’t say that if I had to go back in time I would do it differently because I wouldn’t. It made me who I am today, but I never want to be that person again.

  We finally reach BAR and Brady drops me off at the back door. I let myself in and then to the apartment. I strip my shirt off with every intention of heading to the shower, but Chloe’s diary screams at me from its propped position on the dresser. It’s been sitting there for a while and I haven’t given it another thought since I placed it in its spot. A layer of dust rests on it it’s been so long.

  I grab the book and fall to the bed belly first. The cool sensation of the comforter touches my skin and I adore the feeling. There is nothing more relaxing than cool sheets or a pillow. I bury my face in the soft, plush cloth. I feel like the biggest dirt bag in the world for reading Chloe’s journal. I shouldn’t violate her privacy like this. I know all of these things, but yet I’m going to do it. I need inside her head so that I can feel close to her again.

  I flip lazily through the pages until I find a new entry. As I read her feminine script, my heart drops. My eyes roam over each word and with every line in the entry I feel more and more like an asshole.

  Chloe didn’t purposely try to kill our child! How in the hell am I going to be able to live with myself knowing that I put her through this for nothing. The air is knocked from my lungs. The room starts to spin. All the horrible things I’ve said to her fly at me, slapping me in the face with each hateful word I let leave my mouth.

  Tears fall from my eyes, then suddenly, I’m on my feet. I race through the apartment in nothing but my jeans, but that doesn’t stop me. I race out the door, down the stairs, then into the alley. The cold air hits my skin, but I keep going. The concrete under my feet scrape at the tough skin, but I run faster.

  Before I know it, I’m at Chloe’s apartment door, panting like a dog in the middle of July with no water. I breathe in deeply through my nose and burst into the apartment.

  “What the fu—” Sara starts to yell from her chair when the door slams into the wall. When she sees me, she stops talking and just points down the hall with a smirk on her face. Chloe must hear the commotion because she swings the door open, takes two steps into the hallway, and freezes.

  Her strawberry locks are in long thick waves, resting on her shoulders and falling down her back. The pink tank top she’s wearing clings to her round stomach proudly. My knees give out and I land on them with a loud thud. In slow motion, I walk on them until I’m kneeling before her. My hands shake as I hold her stomach in my hand like a basketball. My head meets the cotton of her shirt and I begin to shake.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” I whisper to my baby and her mother. How could I do this to my family? I let her go without a second thought because I was blinded by anger and what I thought she did. I should have gathered all the facts, given her the opportunity to tell me the truth. But I didn’t, and now I’ve missed out on so much.

  Chloe mimics my position and grabs my cheeks. “It’s okay.” She wraps me in her soft, forgiving arms. One arm wraps around my neck while the other is bent so her hand can stroke my hair. “It’s all right. You’re here now, that’s all that matters,” she coos.

  My right arm wraps around her waist, the other finds her knees, and I lift her into the air. She shrieks and then giggles as I carry her to her bedroom. I push the door shut with my foot and then gently lay her on her back on the bed. I hover over her, tears still stream down my face.

  One stray drop falls to her lips. Chloe stares into my eyes, focused on reading all my emotions but then, her tongue darts out and the tear disappears. My heart is pounding in my throat; I need to be closer to her. I pull her mouth to mine and she lets me. My tongue glides over her lips, begging for entrance and she lets me. My heart begs to be hers again, and I know that she’s let me when she pulls back and whispers, “I love you.”

  That’s all I need to hear to know that all is forgiven. I still have a million things to make up for, but right now, I know that everything is going to be just as she’s said. It’s going to be all right.

  He’s here, lying on top of me. Skye’s in my arms, begging for forgiveness, and he had it the moment I came out of my room and s
aw him standing in my apartment. A million different emotions wash over me as I stare into his sorrowful eyes, but the one that is screaming the loudest is happiness. I don’t know that it could even be called happiness because it’s so much more. He looks different than the last time I saw him. His face has aged over the past few months. His hair is longer and his eyes sadder.

  “I love you,” I whisper again. I don’t expect him to say it back, but he does. His forehead touches mine and he mutters those three words to us over and over again. Skye stands up and reaches his hand out to mine. When I take his and stand before him, he drops to his knees. His hands cup my stomach the same as before, but the words that come out of his mouth aren’t meant for me.

  “Hey, sweetie. I know that I haven’t been around much and that I’ve missed a lot of exciting things. I’m so sorry for that, baby. But I promise you that I won’t miss another moment from now until the day I die. I’m going to be here and love you and mommy with everything I have in me. There will never be anything else in this world that separates us again. You’re my world and I love you.” His words cause my eyes to sting. The slight burning sensation moves to the back of my throat.

  Tears fall from my eyes and they’re a combination of happy and sad. I’ve spent the last several months working on me. Making myself better for my daughter and for me. I’ve done any and everything to not think about this possible scenario. I couldn’t imagine him walking through my door and sweeping me off of my feet again. I couldn’t, because if it didn’t happen, it would have killed me.

  Instead, I filled my time creating the nursery, and reading baby books. I also spent a lot of time reflecting on my past behavior. Learning how to forgive myself and others is by far the hardest thing I have ever done, but I got there with the help of my therapist and my friends.