by Shay Stone
I rest my hands on his shoulders, summoning my most cogent voice to assuage his fear. “He won’t. I’m sorry Mase, but I’ve got to go. Mike could hurt her, and I’m not gonna let that happen.”
He sighs. “Okay, just promise you’ll be extra careful.”
I make an “X” over my heart. “I promise.”
Vito may still be a threat, but he’s only a problem if he finds out where I am. Mike’s the more imminent concern. He’s volatile and dangerous, and now he’s married to the woman I love. I left to protect her. Now the only way to save her is to go back.
Hang on, angel. I’m coming.
THIRTY-SIX
The airport is bustling with cars packed bumper to bumper, dropping people off at their departure gates. Mason maneuvers his Chevy Spark between vehicles, almost getting clipped by a Mazda CX-3. He honks, spewing obscenities at the other driver, but I’m too lost in my own head to even react. I don’t think I’ve said three words the entire ride. Instead of reassuring him everything will be okay, I’ve spent the whole time staring out the window.
“What’s wrong with you? You’re going to see Nyla. I thought you’d at least be a little happy.”
I watch a couple get out of a car with a “Just Married” sign affixed to the bumper. “She’s got to hate me.”
“I’m sure she does.”
“Thanks, Mase. That helps.”
He shrugs. “Sorry, but you did leave her at the altar. Of course, she’s going to be pissed at first. But once you explain things, I’m sure she’ll understand why you did what you did.”
I roll my head against the seatback to face him. “I wish I had your confidence.”
He squeezes into a spot by the curb and shifts the car into park. “Listen, you and Nyla belong together. You just have to make her remember that.”
“But that’s the thing, Mase. I’m not going there to get her back. With the exception of her marrying Mike, nothing else has changed. Vito still wants me dead. It’s still too dangerous for us to be together. I thought when I went back, I would be able to say, ‘I’m sorry for the way I left, but I’m here now and I swear I’ll never leave you again.’ But instead I get to say, ‘Hey, angel. I know it’s been three years, but the guy you married is a murdering, conniving thief, and you need to divorce him as soon as possible. I have to go now because the police think I killed my ex-wife and a mob boss put a hit on me. Take care!”
“Yeah, I see the problem. It does sound a bit like a season of a Shonda Rhimes show. Do you have any idea what you’re gonna do?”
“Right now, my plan is to beat the shit out of Mike, toss Nyla over my shoulder, take her to the hotel, and lock her in the room until she listens to me.”
“So, you’ve decided to go with the caveman meets kidnapper approach? Sounds like a solid plan.”
“I’m still working out the details,” I snip, opening the car door.
“Yeah, well you’ve got about six hours to come up with something better. Maybe more if they’re still on their honeymoon.”
His comment knocks the wind from my lungs. I’ve been so focused on the danger she’s in, I haven’t stopped to think about what Nyla being married to Mike means. They’re a couple. Instead of picturing Mike holding Nyla hostage in a creepy basement somewhere, I’m envisioning the two of them in bed with his grimy paws all over her. I don’t know which image is worse.
“I think I’m gonna be sick.” I deflate into the seat tasting bile in the back of my throat.
A cop taps on the window pointing to the ‘No Parking’ sign. “Drop off only. Keep it moving.”
I grab my suitcase from the trunk. Mase meets me at the back of the car and latches on to me, hugging me like he may never see me again. I squeeze him back, whispering words of comfort to him. The absurdity of what I’m about to do hits me. “Shit, Mase. She’s married to that asshole and I’m the last person she’s gonna believe. Who knows what lies he’s been telling her? What am I gonna do?”
He pulls back and looks me dead in the eye. “You’re gonna beat him at his own damn game.”
***
THE FLIGHT TO JFK is a nightmare, and not just because some kid spent the entire trip kicking the back of my seat. The same thought kept repeating in my mind—Mike killed Angie and now he’s with Nyla. I’m not certain I’m right, but with Sally’s murder piled on, my gut tells me I am.
By the time the plane touches down, my nerves are shot. I’ve got Mike right up there with Ted Bundy, David Berkowitz, and Jack the Ripper. My only thought is getting Nyla away from him as soon as possible.
I retrieve my luggage and check into a hotel not far from Nyla’s townhouse. It’s too late to consider tracking her down tonight, and that’s probably a good thing. I still have no real plan and somehow, I don’t think “I’m sorry” is going to cut it.
My night is spent staring out the window. She’s out there, only a few miles away. That’s assuming she’s not off on her honeymoon in some bungalow over the ocean in Bora Bora. That’s where we were supposed to go. The idea that she could be there right now with Mike has me going into the bathroom and punching the hell out of the door until my knuckles bleed.
I return to bed and lie awake, thinking about what to say until it’s time to leave. The Katie’s Helpers website said there’s a fourth of July party for the kids today at the Juniper Valley Park. Confronting Nyla in front of a bunch of children may be cowardice, but I’m hoping it will force us—and by us, I mean her—to be civil.
The sun is bright and warm, burning off the last of the morning dew from the grass when I arrive at the park. It’s already packed, with people taking advantage of the extra day off work. The familiar sight of old men playing chess and the sound of kids laughing helps calm the staccato beating in my chest. I used to hate stagnation, but now I find the lack of change comforting.
Over by the bocce courts I spot Gino waiting on a bench, checking his watch. No doubt Giovanni is late, as usual. I contemplate going over to say hello but I’m not sure how I’ll be received by him, or anyone for that matter. After all, I didn’t just walk out on Nyla; I walked out on everyone who cared about me and they all deserve answers. I’m also not ready to face Giovanni. He’s a good detective. Who knows what he’s put together by now?
“One thing at a time,” I tell myself, blowing out a breath. First, I have to make things right with Nyla. Then I can worry about everyone else. I trek over to the picnic area, experiencing every emotion at once—excitement, anxiety, fear, love, more fear. I rub my forehead hoping it’ll somehow make the right words formulate on my tongue. What the hell am I going to say?
The first person I see is Mikayla. She’s blowing on a silver, red, and blue pinwheel watching and laughing as the colors whirl together. She’s gotten so big. Alex is squatted beside her, showing a little girl with snow blonde hair how to do the same thing with her pinwheel. They resemble each other enough to make me wonder if she’s Alex’s daughter.
I hear the sound of Nyla’s voice before I see her face. “No Benji. You have to wait until they’re cooked,” she tells the dog with the line of drool hanging from his mouth. He whines, shuffling his paws anxiously. Nyla glances from side to side making sure no one’s watching and sneaks him a hot dog. “Okay, but just the one.”
The dog lays next to her feet wagging his tail, chomping happily on his treat. Nyla pats his head and picks up a tray of hot dogs and hamburgers from the table. “Max can you give these to Colin to throw on the grill before Benji runs off with them like last time?”
I duck behind a large oak tree needing a minute to take her in. She’s even more beautiful than I remembered. Her hair is an inch or two shorter with long layers framing her face. Her hips look a tad wider, and damn is it sexy. There’s a softness about her. I hope it means she’s forgiven herself and let go of the guilt she felt for what happened to Katie and Harrison.
One thing is clear. She’s moved on and is thriving without me. And as much as I wanted that for her, seeing
it hurts like hell.
I can’t do this right now. It’s not the right time. I’ll catch her at the coffee shop or at the townhouse. Yes, that’s a much better plan. I stay for another minute, unable to make my traitorous feet walk away.
“Babe, where do you want the ladder toss set up?” Mike asks, slipping his arms around Nyla’s waist from behind. My hands curl into fists, making the thick veins bulge. It’s taking everything I have not to rip him off her and beat the shit out of him. He scoots Benji away with his foot, eliciting a growl from the dog.
“Bite him, Benji,” I whisper through tight lips.
My murderous thoughts are interrupted when a little boy totters past me doing that Godzilla-like toddler run. The cute little guy wearing only a shirt and pull-up diaper, smiles chanting, “Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma,” between giggles. I cross my arms over my chest and grin, watching him.
“Conner Mason Drake, you get that baby butt back here and get your shorts on!” a woman whose voice I recognize, shouts from the direction of the restrooms. I glance over my shoulder and Jen freezes. “Memphis?”
“Holy shit,” Colin curses, drawing my attention back toward the party. The entire group is glaring at me like they’ve just seen a ghost. I guess in some ways, they have.
“Bocce!” Mikayla cheers, taking off towards me, but her mom catches her, holding her back. She holds up her arm waving her matching bracelet at me.
Nyla and I lock gazes and I swear the whole world stops. Her eyes work like wrecking balls, leveling me with one look. It’s all I can do not to hurdle the picnic table and wrap my arms around her. Not sure what else to do, I hold up my hand in some sort of lame wave.
“Conner!” Jen shrieks, the terror in her tone breaking us from our stupor.
My head whips forward in time to see a teenager on a bike too busy checking out the woman behind him to see the child in front of him. The kid hits the brakes when he hears Jen scream, but it’s too late for him to stop. I dash forward, scooping up the baby just before impact. His eyes go wide and he lets out a heartbreaking cry.
“You’re okay. I got you,” I assure him, cradling him to me while rubbing his back to calm him.
“Jeez, mister, I’m so sorry. Is your kid okay?” the biker asks.
My kid. Holy shit, I’m holding my kid.
“Conner!” Nyla cries, peeling him from my arms. She hugs him while conducting a quick examination of his tiny arms and legs. “Are you hurt? Let momma see.”
“I think he’s okay. He just got scared,” I reply, resting a hand on Conner’s back, still in a bit of shock myself.
Edward rushes over to check on him. Once he’s sure his grandson is alright, he flies at me with the quickness of a cheetah taking down a gazelle. “You’ve got some nerve showing up here!”
“I know. I’m sorry. I wanted … It wasn’t supposed to …” I cover my mouth with my hand choking back tears, unable to stop staring at the miniature version of myself Nyla is holding in her arms. Christ, I didn’t just walk out on her; I ran out on my kid. “Is he my son?”
Before I get my answer, a punch blindsides me, connecting with my jaw and sending me to the ground. My tooth cuts into my lip, slicing it open.
“You son-of-a-bitch! How dare you show up here after everything you’ve done!” Mike barks.
Mikayla breaks free from her mom and races over, pounding Mike with her tiny fists. “Stop hitting Bocce! You’ll make him leave again.”
I sit up, spitting blood onto the ground, and wipe my lip with the back of my hand. “It’s okay Mik. I’m not going anywhere. I promise I’m never leaving again,” I swear to her, but my eyes are lasered in on Nyla. And I mean them. I don’t know how I’m going to pull it off, but I’ve got to figure out something. I scramble to my feet. “Angel, can we talk for a minute?”
Jen pushes past Nyla, getting right up in my face. “She doesn’t have anything to say to you. None of us do! Why don’t you leave? No one wants you here.”
“I do,” Mik pipes up.
Nyla caresses her head while rocking our baby on her hip. “Jen, we need a minute. Why don’t you and Alex take the kids to play a game?”
Jen pushes air out her nose, displeased at the thought of leaving her friend.
“Come on, Jen. The kids shouldn’t be here for this,” Alex grinds out, shooting me daggers while yanking Jen away by the sleeve of her shirt. Colin and Max stay behind, giving us some space but remain close enough to step in if things get out of control again.
“I’ve missed you so much,” I blurt out, unable to help myself. Judging by Nyla’s icy glare, I’ve said the wrong thing.
“What do you want Memphis? Why are you here?” she snaps.
“I was hoping we could talk.”
She scoffs. “The time to talk would have been at the church before you left me at the altar.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. I want to explain. Can we please go somewhere and …” My thoughts derail when Conner smiles at me and says, “Hi” in his high-pitched kid voice. I can’t take my eyes off him. “He’s so beautiful, angel.”
I reach out to stroke his hair, but she angles him away from me. “Don’t touch him!”
I drop my hand. “Right. I’m sorry. I’ve just ... I’ve missed so much.”
“And whose fault is that?” she bites back.
“It’s mine. I know all of this is my fault. Can we please just go somewhere and talk?”
She hands my son off to Edward and folds her arms over her chest. “What is it you think you’re going to say that I’d possibly want to hear?”
“Please, if you’ll just give me a chance to explain—”
“Explain what?” she fires back. “That you’re a con artist? That you only targeted me to get your hands on my money. That you never loved me, and our entire relationship was a lie? Save your breath. Michael already told me everything.”
The mention of Mike’s name and the fact that she thinks she can trust a goddamn word he says has me seeing red. “Oh, I doubt that! Did he tell you he was the one embezzling from the company?”
She sinks back on her heels, jutting out her hip. “You are unbelievable!” She turns to Mike throwing her hands up. “You were right. You said he’d try to pin it on you, and he did.” She whirls back around on me, ready to pounce. “It’s too late, Memphis. I know the truth. Michael found out what you were up to and threatened to expose you. But you couldn’t let that happen, so you fabricated evidence to make it look like he was the one stealing instead of Harrison and threatened to turn him in if he didn’t leave. How could you do that? He was your best friend.”
My eyebrows shoot into my hairline. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
She continues on with this bullshit story. “Do you know how much you broke his heart? He believed you when you told him you wanted to change. He went out of his way to get you a job with our company because you told him you wanted to make a fresh start. And look how you repaid him!”
Son-of-a-bitch! He’s made himself look like the good guy by turning everything on me.
“That’s bullshit! He was the one stealing. I covered for him! He’s lying to you.”
“Oh, he’s lying to me?”
“Yes!”
“So, you’re not a con artist? You didn’t target me? You didn’t come to Manhattan with the sole purpose of making me fall in love with you and screwing me out of millions? You haven’t spent your entire life scamming people out of money?” She drills me with accusation after accusation, and all I can do is stand there and take it because they’re all true.
Despite her rage, tears glisten in her eyes. “I know I was supposed to be the big score. I guess it’s a good thing Michael came back to stop the wedding, or I’d have married you having no idea about the kind of man you really were.”
“What are you talking about? Mike didn’t stop the wedding. I did. I had to. It was the only way to protect you.” I scrub a hand across my jaw and groan. “If you’ll just give me a few minutes …”
Mike pushes my chest, knocking me back a step. “Save it, Memphis. She already knows the reason I came to the rehearsal at the church wasn’t to mend things with you. It was to beg you not to go through with the wedding.”
Nyla swipes away tears, refusing to let them fall. “You know, I hated you for the way you ran out on me, but I guess I should thank you. Although it would’ve been nice if you’d have called off the wedding the night before instead of humiliating me like you did. But I’m glad Michael was able to talk some sense into you before …” Her lip quivers leaving her unable to finish.
She hates me, and rightfully so. I left the way I did to ensure she would. And I got exactly what I wanted. She’s my heaven; I’m her hell.
“Dammit, I loved you!” she cries, mustering up the last of her bravado before wilting from the weight of all the pain I’ve caused her.
My instinct is to sweep her into my arms and tell her how sorry I am. If we were alone, I think she’d let me, but we’re not. A crowd has gathered, eager to watch the impending train wreck unfolding in the middle of the park.
“Holy shit! Memphis?” I hear someone gasp and see Giovanni standing among the onlookers. Max and Colin pull him away, giving us our space. Good. I don’t have time to answer now. My only concerns are for Nyla and my son. “I’m sorry, angel. I’m so sorry. I loved you too. I still do. You have to believe that.”
“Memphis just stop! Do you think she’s dumb enough to fall for any more of your lies?” Mike barks, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Come on, honey, let’s get you and Conner home. Alex and Jen can handle things here.”
If there weren’t a dozen witnesses, my fist would be lodged in his face right now. But I know that won’t help my cause. He takes my son—MY SON—from Edward. Conner stretches out his arms to Mike, “Daddy up!”
The words hit with the force of a sledgehammer, shattering my heart into a million pieces. I don’t miss the amused smirk that flashes across Mike’s face. He whistles to the dog and I watch him walk away with my family. I want to chase after them, but I don’t think I’ll get very far with Nyla as long as Mike is around. Coming here was a mistake. I need to get her alone.