by Leah Holt
Climbing out of bed, I checked the time and decided to take a quick shower before heading to the gallery. I wasn't going to just give up on this, I didn't have to. I had to keep trying, I couldn't just throw up my hands and walk away.
Liam was right, I loved what I did, and walking away wasn't an option. It shouldn't matter what came my way, I should always keep going.
Throwing on my clothes, I pulled my hair back and grabbed my tote, determined to figure this shit out.
I had a list inside my head; grab breakfast, hit the store for more supplies, and paint my ass off.
I've got this, I have to.
My phone pinged, so I grabbed it and checked the message. My mother was still wondering when I was coming over and if I had the rent money. I knew she meant well, I understood that she depended on me, but it was hard to go home.
It hadn't felt the same there since my father died. The place felt empty, quiet, as if something was missing; and it was—he was gone.
He had been almost seven years since he left us and I felt like I still wasn't over it yet. People say that the pain eases with time, but it didn't feel like that to me. I lost my father when I was a teenager, at the tender age of sixteen. He made it two years after his diagnosis and I still hadn't come to terms with it.
It felt like time made me more aware of the fact he wasn't there, that every day that passed since we put him in the ground was another day I missed him even more. It was a pain that was deep, one that followed you around, reminding you it was there whenever it had the chance.
Typing quickly, I told her I'd be over in a little bit to drop off the money. My stomach pitted at the idea. I could still smell the scent of my father's cologne in the air, it still felt like he would emerge from one of the rooms or come walking down the hallway.
I avoided the home I grew up in as much as I could, just to distance myself from the memories I couldn't bear.
Walking out of the building, I started towards the bank. My list of errands had grown a little, but the day was still young. It was almost ten in the morning, I had plenty of time left to get everything else done.
Taking my phone back out, I scrolled through the numbers and pulled up Liam. Opening a new message, I decided to send him a simple good morning.
'Good morning, hope you have a good meeting.'
Ping. 'Morning beautiful, I'll be over once I'm done. Will you be at the gallery?'
'Probably, but I have to stop at my mom's first and run a few errands. Where is your meeting?'
'Coffee Cake's. But I'm not sure how long I'll be. Why? Miss me already?'
Giggling, I smiled to myself. 'Maybe.'
'You miss me. I'll text you before I come. I gotta get ready.'
Dropping my phone into my tote, I pulled out my wallet as I reached the ATM. Plugging in my numbers, I took out the rent money. Checking the balance, I grumbled to myself, knowing that right then that was all I had to my name.
Four grand. . .
Folding up the cash, I tucked it into my back pocket and started for my mom's house. The streets were busy as usual for this time of year. The tourists were starting to filter in like packs of wild animals, their cars clogging up the road.
Trucks were pulling boats down to the harbor, mini-vans were packed with families that were heading to the motels or cottages by the ocean. The summer was great for business, but bad if you wanted that quaint quiet a small town could offer.
Rounding the corner, I turned up Gorton ave. My mother's home was three blocks away, a stone throw from my gallery, but I barely ever walked this way if I didn't have to. My art had become my world, but not for just me, for her too.
I spent my days and nights working, never taking the time anymore to go for Sunday dinner or pop in just to say hello. She used to give me shit for it, but I think she understood my reasons.
She stopped bothering me about it, allowing me to do things at my own pace. That's what I needed most, time.
Sometimes I wondered if she realized how hard it was on me to be responsible for her. But we never talked about it, it was one of those elephant in the room conversations I didn't want to have.
A firm hand grabbed my shoulder from behind, causing me to yelp in surprise. Spinning on my heels, a man in a suit was glaring down on me, his lips thinned. I knew him, we had met once before, and I told him to go fuck himself.
“What the hell do you want? I gave you your answer already.”
“No, you gave me a message. I'm curious if you got mine?” he asked, stalking forward and pinning me against the building. “I'm pretty sure I made myself clear.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I haven't had any messages from you, and I already told you no, I'm not selling you my building”
Slapping an open palm against the brick beside my head, he snarled. “Do you think you can just tell me no? If destroying everything you owned in that place wasn't a message, you're a stupid fucking girl.”
My heart stopped inside my chest as his words hit a nerve.
He did this! He's the one who's responsible!
The thought had crossed my mind, but I pushed it away. I couldn't imagine a man in a suit, a man who seemed to have more than my lonely little building could ever offer, would do such a thing.
“That was you?” My voice was sharp and short.
“Do you think I'm stupid? It wasn't me exactly, but money talks. All I had to do was offer the right price to the right man, and my message was sent loud and clear.” Laughing, the man tipped his head back, opening his mouth wide. “It was easy as fuck to higher someone to do the dirty work for me.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you do that?!” Yelling, I veered my stare, wishing that my eyes could shoot bullets. “I'm going to call the police and tell them what you did!”
“The police won't do shit. Do you have any idea who I am? Do you understand what I can do to you? Let me make myself really clear; if you don't sign the papers, I'll have to finish what I started.”
My heart stuck in my throat, his threat evident on his face. “Why? Why can't you just leave me alone?”
“Because when I want something, I take it.” Lowering his face, he pressed his lips to my ear. “And I want your building, so stop making this difficult on yourself.”
“If you have all this power, then why not buy something else? Why take it from someone who doesn't want to give it? This is my life you're trying to buy and it doesn't have a price.”
“Everything had a price.” His eyes connected with mine as he took a step back and adjusted the cuffs on his sleeves. Chuckling, his smile deepened. “You have the papers, sign them. Don't make the same mistake again and tell me no.”
“You can't so this,” I said, furrowing my brows. “You can't threaten me into doing what you want.”
“Let me make myself really fucking clear. My next move won't be a threat, I'll literally turn your building into ashes. If you don't want to watch it go up in flames, don't fucking test me.” Smirking, his eyes turned black and his grin turned sinister. “Have a nice day, Glory.” Winking, the man walked off with the most evil smile on his face I had ever seen.
Snatching the phone from inside my purse, I called the police. It didn't matter to me who the fuck he was, he had no right to threaten me like that.
“Hello, can I help you?” A woman answered.
The words tumbled out, broken up with relentless tears and heavy breathing. Adrenaline was purging my veins, making my body feel cold. I was shaking from head to toe, so hopped up on emotional chaos that I didn't even pause to let her ask questions.
After spewing what had happened from the very beginning, she put me on hold so she could check into the original report.
“Miss Daniels, Detective Glenn has your case, would you like me to transfer you?”
“Yes, please.”
The phone went silent, leaving me to hear the blood pumping through my ears. It felt like forever before I heard a click and the soft sound o
f someone clearing their throat.
“Miss Daniels, this is Detective Glenn. Valerie tells me that you have new information about the break in at your business. What do you have for me?” His question hung in the air as I tried to gather my thoughts.
“Yes, I do, did she tell you what I said before?”
“She filled me in, but I'd like to hear it from you? Can you come down to the station so we can speak in person?”
Thumbing my lip, my eyes scanned around me, wondering if that asshole was watching from a distance. I didn't see him, but that didn't mean he wasn't tucked away someplace.
“I can come in a little bit.”
“Can you do one o'clock?”
“Yeah, yeah that works.”
“Great, and bring anything you have that will help.”
“I don't really have anything. He just threatened me, he told me he was the one who had ruined my shop.”
“Did he put his hands on you? Do you have any bruising or marks?”
“What?” My voice filled with confusion. “No, he didn't hurt me, he threatened me. He said he did it.”
“Well, I can take a formal statement, but without proof, it's a he said-she said deal.”
I could feel the frustration start to build inside me as his tone dropped, turning from inquisitive into hopelessness. “You need to do something, can't you bring him in? Arrest him? Charge him with harassment or something?”
“Miss Daniels, we can't just go around arresting people without proof.” Letting out an audible breath, he continued. “Just come in this afternoon, give a statement, and I'll follow up.”
Dropping my voice, I spoke low and deflated. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”
I didn't even wait for a response, I hung up before he could say anything else. There was no belief in his tone, not one ounce that he thought B and B Realty was behind the break in.
But how could I blame him, I didn't think it was possible either. Slipping my phone back into my bag, I walked to my mom's. My hands were still shaking as I reached the house, my chest still painfully swollen and aching.
Climbing the steps, she opened the door with a blank gaze. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you alright?” Holding out her arm, she guided me inside.
“Yeah, yeah I'm fine. I'm sorry, things have been crazy lately. My gallery got broken into and a lot of stuff got destroyed.”
“Oh my god, Glory.” Her voice was delicate and gentle as she walked me to the kitchen and sat me down. “When? Who? What happened?”
“Last week, it's all gone, Mom, all of it.” Resting my head in my hands, I closed my eyes. “But don't worry, everything will be fine.”
“God, you sound just like your father.” Cupping her hips, she stared at me. “How about some coffee? You want some coffee?”
Shaking my head, I tried to smile, but I knew it looked as fake as it felt. Wiping my fingers down my cheeks, I sighed. “No, that's okay. I can't stay long, I have to get back to work.”
“Glory, you can't go like this. Why don't you stay and I'll make you something to eat.”
“No, really, I need to go.” Taking the money out, I laid it on the table. “Things might be tight for a bit, but it'll be fine, I promise.” Standing up quickly, I tugged my bag up my arm, holding the thick strap.
My mom stared at me, folding her arms over her chest, her eyes full of worry. “I don't like this, I don't like seeing you like this.”
Leaning in, I kissed her cheek. “I'm alright, Mom, I'll call you later.”
Looking over my shoulder as I stepped outside, my mother walked up and held the door. Leaning her head against the door frame, she gave me a half smile.
Smiling back, I flicked my eyes away from her. I couldn't watch the sadness in her lips as she made that smile, knowing that she was just as concerned as I was.
But our concerns were for different reasons. She feared for me, my peace of mind, my safety; and I feared the idea of her having nothing, of losing the home my father fell in love with, the one he took his last breath in.
She had been a stay at home wife, caregiver, and mother for as long as I could remember. I loved my mom, but she had absolutely no skills. It sounds harsh when I put it that way, but it's the truth.
My father had taken care of her, he had been the sole provider. And when he passed, that was it. Her money dried up instantly. It was horrible.
She was too young to collect social security from my father, they denied her without pause. The golden age for that was sixty.
She had no computer skills, no college degree, no work history outside whatever she did in her youth. The cooking, the cleaning, the food shopping; you name it, if it was a household duty, her shoes filled it.
That's where I come in, we had been staying just above water, my art had been enough to make sure neither of us went without. I kept pushing, I kept painting, I kept going; and with all that hard work I was finally able to open my gallery and create a life for both of us.
There should be some sort of widow's benefit, especially for someone who had been out of the work force so long. You know what they gave her? A check for three hundred and fifty dollars, that was it. What a slap in the face.
When it rains, it fucking pours.
Keeping my head down, I walked in the direction of the art supply store. I was determined to get some shit on a canvas today. I still had a few customers who were willing to wait, and I wasn't ready to give up.
That asshole could go fuck himself. He wasn't going to drive me away, not a chance in hell. If anything, he made me want it more. I worked too hard to let some rich, self absorbed jerk force my hand.
Screw him. I'm not going out that easily.
Glancing up, Coffee Cakes was across the street and I could see Liam in the big picture window. He was sitting with another man who had his back to the glass. Liam's hands were moving strong and pronounced as he spoke.
Stopping in my tracks, I watched him for a second, debating if I should just pop in. I wouldn't interrupt his meeting, but I could probably get a smile out of him.
I could use a coffee. . .
Looking both ways, I waited for a few cars to pass, before jogging across the road. Gripping the door, I leaned back and looked at Liam before going inside.
The tiny bell chimed as I walked in, but he didn't look my way. Walking to the counter, I kept him in my peripheral vision, just waiting for him to realize I was there.
“What can I get you?” The Barista asked.
“I'll take a chai latte with one shot of espresso.”
Turning on my heels, I leaned against the counter and glanced at Liam's table. Liam was still talking, his movements more erratic and emotional.
What the hell is he talking about?
The man he was with had leaned over the table and was grabbing something off the floor. But Liam kept on talking, his hands never stopping.
“Here you go,” the girl said, sliding the coffee in my direction.
Looking away, I paid her and grabbed my drink. Turning back, my heart stopped in my throat as the man in front of Liam was looking directly at me. His mouth held this crooked grin that made my skin crawl and my nerves rattle.
No, not him. It can't be.
Liam cocked his head over his shoulder, following the other guy's glare, his eyes growing wide. Standing up quickly, his chair scraped over the tiles like nails on a chalk board.
“Glory, what are you doing here?” he asked, stalking forward with a worried look on his face.
“I was walking by and thought I'd—” Cutting myself off, I took in a deep breath. “How do you know that man? Why are you here with him?”
Glancing back over his shoulder, he reached his hand out and cupped my elbow. “That's my partner. . .” Pausing, his voice went soft. “And brother.”
“Brother? He's your brother?” My hands began to shake as the realization set in. “You're in on this too?” Tears sprang up in my eyes, bubbling over the surface and making it hard to see.
>
“Yes—I mean no, I mean that's why—”
Dropping my coffee to the ground, I felt the hot liquid as it splashed off the floor and burned my ankles. But I didn't care, I didn't want to be there anymore. Pushing past Liam, I headed for the door.
I couldn't hear anymore, I couldn't look him in the eyes or listen to his voice. His voice had gone from pleasure to pain. In a flash he wasn't the man I thought he was. He had become a dark presence that stabbed me in the heart and cut me open.
“Glory, wait!” he called out, but I didn't look back.
Liam had been in on it the entire time, he had know from the very first moment we met what was going on. Jacob was his brother, they ran the company that wanted my building.
Oh my god, I slept with him! I gave myself to the enemy!
The realization drizzled over my brain that us meeting wasn't by chance, he wasn't a hero at all. He was a part of the same company that wanted to take my shop from me in the first place.
It was all a set up. My heart cracked as I ran away from the coffee shop. He doesn't really care about me! All he really wants is my signature. The muscles pounded, forcing layers to flake away with each beat.
The tears rolled down my face effortlessly as the world I had been living in crumbled even more. None of this was real, not one ounce of it had been true.
He lied to me. . .
Liam was a scam. He had no interest in me to begin with, all he had his eyes on was my building.
It all started to fit into place. The break in, the destruction, the man who came to my rescue. His attempt at getting me to move, his sweet words and kindness, it was all a bold faced lie, a strategy to steal everything away from me.
My legs throbbed as my feet crushed the pavement and the air around me barely made it into my lungs. But I didn't stop running.
How could he do this to me?
I believed there was something between us. I believed that he wanted to help. I believed every lie that came out of his mouth.
I thought he cared for me, but I was wrong.
It felt like a rope had wrapped my body, crushing my soul.