The Redemption of Memphis Drake: A Second Chance Romance

by Shay Stone

  “Not right now he doesn’t.”

  She takes my face between her hands gazing into my eyes. “Yes, he does. He’s just mad. Brothers fight. It happens. I’m sure he’ll cool off and everything will be back to normal by tonight. Why don’t you invite everyone down to stay with us for a few days? Or maybe we can go up there and visit if that’d be easier? That’s assuming you still want me to meet them?”

  “I do. But we don’t have to go up there. I’m having them moved down today.”

  “Today? When did that happen? No wonder he’s upset. He probably doesn’t want to leave Hannah.”

  “Well, I can’t help it. I’m doing the best I can!” I bark, jerking away from her. I place my palms flat on the trunk pushing out a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  She smooths her hand over my back. “It’s okay. Do you want to leave? I can ask one of the mothers to run things today. We can go grab lunch or just go home, curl up on the couch, and watch movies until your family gets here. I can make a nice dinner for everyone.”

  Before I can answer, a pair of little arms encircle my waist. “Hi Bocce!”

  I force a smile and reach for the package of Alpha Bits. “Hey Mik! Here. I got something for you.”

  She takes it, staring up at me wide-eyed with her mouth hanging open. “You got this for me?”

  “I sure did. This will help you with your spelling.”

  Her arms wrap around me again squeezing with all her might. “Mommy look! Bocce got me a present.”

  “I see. Did you tell Bocce thank you?”

  “Thank you,” she sing-songs, her eyes focused on the package like it’s the best gift she’s ever received. “Oh, I got something for you too!”

  “You did?”

  She nods, digging in her pocket to retrieve a bracelet made of red and white string woven together. “Mommy helped me make it. Ms. Nyla and I already have matching ones, but I wanted you to have one too because we’re all best friends,” she states, holding out her arm for me to see. Nyla holds out her wrist showing off hers too.

  Talk about hitting a guy in the heart. I adore this kid. She’s become my little sidekick every week. I squat down in front of her, slipping the bracelet on my wrist.

  “I love it. I’ll never take it off. Thank you.” I tousle her hair making her giggle.

  “Come on Mikayla. I think Ms. Nyla and Bocce were talking. Let’s go say ‘hi’ to the other kids,” her mother says, urging her away. Mik waves goodbye, trudging along, never taking her eyes off her new toy.

  Nyla locks her arms around me as we watch them walk away. “She’s come so far over these last few weeks. I think she’s actually starting to trust men again, and it’s all thanks to you.” I pull her closer and press a kiss to her lips. She grins arching into me. “What was that for? Not that I’m complaining.”

  “For introducing me to all this. For creating this for these kids. I know you don’t like to talk about Katie, but what you’ve done to honor her is amazing. You’ve given the kids a safe space where they can be themselves.”

  “They deserve it. But don’t fool yourself. It’s not all altruistic on my part. I do it for selfish reasons too.”

  Like money laundering? The thought pops into my head and I hate myself for it. I know how much she loves these families. There’s such a fucking war going on inside me and it’s tearing me apart.

  She continues, oblivious to my tainted thoughts. “These kids help me keep perspective and remember to enjoy the little things. They know what’s important. I can be having the worst day, and I come here, and all the bad stuff just fades away. I think it might help you to be around them today. But we can go if you like.”

  “No, I think I’d like to stay if that’s cool with you.” I’m tired of overthinking. Maybe it’ll take my mind off things for a while until I can figure out what to do.

  “It’s very cool with me.” She smiles sincerely.

  We grab the stuff from the car and head over to the group where we’re treated like rock stars. The kids go crazy about the toys I brought, choosing to play with them instead of the many other toys and games scattered about. A half hour in I start to relax.

  But as the day winds down, my mind starts to wander again. I wish Colin and Max were here so I could pump them for some information about Nyla’s ex, or at least have them ease my mind and tell me I’m worrying about nothing. But Colin’s gone, and Max usually only comes when Jen does. And where the hell is Mike? He was supposed to text me when they were on the road.

  We pack up everything and trek towards the parking lot. Nyla is busy conversing with one of the mothers about the upcoming Halloween party when her cell falls from the side pocket of her purse onto the grass. As I stoop to pick it up, a text comes in. I gaze up making sure Nyla’s not watching and open the message. It’s a continuation from an earlier conversation:

  Trevor: Have you told him?

  Nyla: No, not yet. But I will today. Not sure how he’s going to react.

  Trevor: We can talk to him together if you want.

  Nyla: No, that’s okay. I’ll do it.

  Trevor: Okay babe. Let me know how it goes. I can come by tonight.

  My lip curls. Trevor. The guy even sounds like a douche. I return to the Home screen and covertly slip Nyla’s phone back into her bag. By the time we reach the car I’m fuming. I set my box down and take Nyla’s from her, practically throwing it into the trunk.

  “You alright?” she asks, quirking her brow.

  “I’m fine,” I reply with a hint of attitude I quickly cover with a tight smile. “Ready?”

  The entire ride home, Nyla tells me about her night with Alex and how excited she is to meet my family. I hardly say two words. I’ve gnawed the inside of my lip raw. The boyfriend in me wants to confront her and tell her I’m not fucking stupid, and I know what she’s doing; the con artist in me is telling me to keep my damn mouth shut and use the information to my advantage to screw her before she screws me.

  “Remind me not to give the kids suckers again. I’m all sticky from when they hugged me goodbye,” Nyla says, splaying her fingers following me inside the townhouse. “Are you okay? You were quiet the whole ride home. Still thinking about Mason?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I lie. The argument with Mason is still weighing on me hard, but that’s not the reason for my turn in mood.

  “I have an idea.” Her hands slip underneath my t-shirt, toying with the waistband of my pants, and damn, if my cock doesn’t spring to life. “How about I go upstairs and take a quick shower while you try to call Mason again? When I come back down, we’ll get you out of these clothes and I’ll give you a nice massage I guarantee will take your mind off everything.”

  I brush her hair from her shoulders and kiss her, fighting to hide my rage. “That sounds perfect.”

  I should win a damn Emmy.

  “Be right back.”

  My smile falls the moment her back is turned. I grip the banister, watching her pad up the stairs and listen for the shower to come on. When I’m sure she’s gone, I head into her office. My dick may not care what Nyla’s done, but my brain wants to know everything now.

  As I expect, there’s nothing incriminating left out in the open on her desk. I rummage through the drawers until I come across one that’s locked. Why would someone who lives alone lock a drawer?

  I search the desk for a paperclip wishing I had my lock pick set with me. Then I remember I still have Nyla’s keys. Most people keep everything on the same ring out of habit. Sure enough, I locate the tiny key I’m looking for mixed in with the rest.

  I make quick work of the lock and tug the drawer open, deflating when I see a manila envelope inside. When I pull out the contents, any hope I was clinging to that Nyla didn’t do this is obliterated. The second purchase order in the stack is the Baby Safe one Mike showed me the first day, along with a slew of purchase orders, invoices, and refund requests.

  And then there’s the coup
de grâce—a paper with Nyla’s handwriting tallying up the sum of how much money has been funneled through each phony company. Seeing the figures in her handwriting finally hammers it through my thick skull. This is real. Now I know why I couldn’t pull up the purchase orders. She knew I was onto her and covered her tracks.

  I sit in silence reading over them. How could she do this to Edward? And it’s not even done well. The amounts submitted are large and sure to draw red flags. She either has no clue what she’s doing, or she wants to get caught.

  “Dammit, Nyla!” I curse, leaning back in the chair. My eyes fall on a black and white photo of us on the corner of her desk taken the night of Jen’s party. We look so happy. I want to be the guy in that picture. Smiling. Happy. Oblivious. But that guy’s gone now.

  The floor creaks above me letting me know Nyla is out of the shower and moving about in the bedroom. I use my phone to take a few quick snapshots of the paper with the totals she kept and return everything to the drawer. By the time she comes downstairs in her yoga pants and t-shirt, I’m at the window watching the cars below pass by on the street.

  “You have way too many clothes on,” she says, sauntering toward me shaking a bottle of massage oil. “Did you get a hold of Mason?”

  I cross my arms turning my back to her and look out the window again. “It went straight to voicemail,” I lie.

  Her arms come around me resting across my stomach and she lays her cheek against my back. “Hey, it’ll be okay. Maybe his phone died. Or maybe he just needs a little time to cool off.”

  Instead of comforting me, her words antagonize me because now I see them for the manipulation they are. A sudden wave of guilt washes over me knowing I’ve done the same thing to countless women. I made them fall in love with me and manipulated their feelings to gain information. I used them. Just like Nyla’s using me.

  I can’t do this. I don’t know what’s harder—pretending you care when you don’t or pretending you don’t care when you do. Because I keep trying to tell myself I don’t care, but I do. I really fucking care. How could I be stupid enough to let myself fall in love with her? And I do love her. I’m painfully aware of just how much now that I’ve seen the proof with my own eyes, because I still don’t want to believe it.

  Having her close is clouding my judgment. I step away, breaking her hold, knowing I need some distance. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Listen, I think I’m going to head to the office to get some work done. I can’t just sit here.”

  She sets the bottle down. “I wish you’d relax for a little bit. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends working for us and moonlighting with Max. I’m worried you’re spreading yourself too thin. And it’s only going to get worse once your family gets here.”

  “Which is why I should try to get as much done as possible.” That’s when my con man instincts kick in, and I decide to go on a little fishing expedition. “You know I started on your department last night.”

  Her body stiffens. She puts her back to me and fiddles with a flower arrangement on the table. “You did?”

  “Yeah, I know you’ve been stressing about it. I figured I’d get it out of the way and put your mind at ease.”

  “That’s really sweet of you, but I’m worried about your stress level, not mine.” She turns slinking her arms around my neck and plays with the back of my hair the way she knows I like. “I have a great idea. Why don’t you let me audit my department? My dad doesn’t have to know. It’ll be one less thing you have to do.”

  The offer incites me. Those words are the final piece I needed to confirm this whole thing has been a lie. She doesn’t love me. She’s been playing me. Keeping me close to sucker me into letting her do the audit herself. Or she was counting on me falling in love with her, hoping I’d agree to hide the evidence. The sad thing is, I would have.

  I’m tempted to tell her what I know just to see how far she’d go. If she was good, she’d offer to cut me. Or maybe she can’t because she and Trevor are in on this together.

  God, what an idiot I’ve been!

  “I appreciate the offer, angel, but you work too many hours as it is. I’m not going to add to your pile. Besides, I wouldn’t feel right about it. Your dad is paying me to do a job and I should be the one who does it.”

  “Well at least let me help you. We can do it together.”

  I start to decline her offer, but she places her finger over my lips. “Promise me you’ll at least think about it.” Her fingers return to my hair, resuming their calmative motion. “I’m worried about you, baby. You’ve got so much going on with Mason and your dad, and work. Let me help you. Please?”

  Damn, she’s good. If I didn’t know the truth, I’d believe her.

  “I’ll think about it,” I agree, choosing to appease her.

  Relief floods her eyes. “Thank you. But let’s not do any of it today. I want you to rest.” She sits on the couch spreading her legs for me to sit between on the floor. “Now, how about that massage?”

  “Yeah, okay.” I smile, reminding myself to preserve the con.

  I remove my shirt while she squirts some massage oil onto her palm, warming it between her hands. I’m a fucking mess. One second I’m furious at the insult to my intelligence, the next I’m coming up with excuses and reasons to forgive her. My brain is in an epic battle with my heart.

  “You’re so tight, baby,” she says, kneading her thumbs into my rigid muscles. “I hope you’re not upset that I offered to help. It’s not because I don’t think you can handle it. It’s because I want you to know you don’t have to. I love you, and I want you to know you can depend on me. I want us to be a team.”

  “Do you?”

  “Do I what?”

  “Love me?”

  “Yes,” she replies with absolute conviction. “Memphis, what’s going on? You’ve been acting strange all day. And don’t tell me it’s just this thing with Mason, because I know it’s not.”

  Tired of the subterfuge, I decide to lay it all out. It’s the only way I’m going to be able to move past this. I can’t pretend everything is alright. Not with her. I’m in too deep. My feelings for her are more real than anything I’ve ever felt. And I need to know if hers are real too. It’s possible, right? Maybe this started out as one thing for her but turned into something more, just like it did for me.

  I grab her hand, stopping the motion, and glance at her over my shoulder. “Nyla, I know.”

  She pulls her hand away. “Know what?”

  Smart girl. When confronted, most people suffer from word vomit, admitting to everything they’ve ever done. Instead of incriminating herself, she’s making me show my hand while playing hers close to the vest. It’s exactly what I would do.

  There’s a knock on the door at the same time my phone rings. I let out a frustrated exhale peeking at the screen and see it’s Mike. Nyla crooks her thumb towards the door. “I’ll get the door. You answer the phone?”

  I nod, standing. She grips my arm. “Memphis, whatever you think you know, I’m positive it’s not what you think.”

  She opens the door showing Max inside while I take the call. “Hey man, are you guys on your way?”

  “No,” Mike replies, sounding stressed.

  “Why not? What’s the hold up?”

  “Memphis, Mason’s gone.”

  “Gone? Whataya mean he’s gone?”

  “He took off while I was loading the car. He’s not answering his cell. We’ve been looking for him for the past two hours.”

  “He’s been missing for two hours and you’re just calling me now?”

  “What’s going on?” Nyla asks.

  “Mason took off. They don’t know where he is.”

  “Have they tried Hannah’s house? He probably went to say goodbye to her,” Nyla offers.

  “We tried that. She hasn’t heard from him,” Mike responds, overhearing her suggestion.

  My mind goes to a dark place. What if Vito got to him? A call comes in on the other line wit
h a 518-area code. Maybe Mason’s battery died and he’s borrowing someone’s phone.

  “Mike, hang on,” I say, clicking over. “Hello?”

  “Hi, is this Memphis Drake?”

  “Yes. Who’s this?”

  “My name is Drew. I’m a paramedic at Albany County General Hospital. I’m calling about Mason Drake. He has you listed as the person to call in case of an emergency.”

  My heart thuds in my chest. If anything happened to him, I’ll never forgive myself. “Did something happen? Is he okay?”

  “Some teenagers found Mason collapsed on the sidewalk. We just brought him in. You should get here right away.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Remember that Thing I Said About Good Deeds?

  I can’t breathe. All the air has been sucked from my lungs. Using the arm of the couch for support, I sit before my wobbly knees give out on me. “Is he okay?”

  “I’m sorry, but that’s all the information I have right now.” I thank him for calling and hang up, thinking the worst.

  “Memphis, what is it?” Nyla asks concerned.

  Before I can answer, my phone rings and I remember Mike was on the other line. I fill him in on everything I know while Nyla and Max listen in. He promises to head to the hospital to be with my baby brother and find out anything he can.

  Blood rushes in my ears. I should be racing out the door, but I’m paralyzed with fear. “What if he’s dead? What if they’re not telling me or keeping him alive on a machine until I get there?”

  Nyla swathes me, cradling my head against her neck. I sink into her like a child, thankful for her comfort. “Don’t think like that. He’s going to be okay.”

  The fight I had with Mason earlier runs through my mind. “I didn’t tell him I loved him.”

  “What?”

  “It’s the last thing I say every time before we hang up. And when we spoke this morning, I was so mad I didn’t say it. I yelled at him. I’ve never done that. The last words I ever said to my little brother were ‘Fuck you.’”