“We’re running out the back?” Reggi, the smallest one, asked.
“We’re not running out of there. We’re walking.” I cut the engine and exited the car, and the other two followed as Adrian moved to the driver seat. Behind me, the two boys whispered back and forth as we walked casually through the rain toward the entrance.
The bell chimed as soon as the door opened, and the customers’ eyes flitted over us briefly before going back to their laundry needs. This wasn’t the best side of town, and the residents of Ockendon knew to keep their noses out of everyone’s business.
An older man worked the cash register, reading the newspaper and completely taken off guard. The three of us approached, and I took a step forward as the other two fell back, I’m sure wondering how this was going to play out.
“Do you know why I’m here?” I asked as the old man locked eyes on me over the newspaper. Nodding, he slowly rose from his chair, reaching for something under the counter. I leaned forward and planted both palms over the counter. “You don’t want to do that.” The old man paused. “I know you have video surveillance, and we’re not wearing masks. I know you have a weapon under there because why wouldn’t you when your shop is twenty-four-hour service. And I also know, once we leave here, you won’t ring the police because this laundromat only pays for your … repulsive fetishes.”
His bushy brows snapped together. “Who are you?” he asked, and I’m not so sure I know myself anymore.
“There is a car waiting at the back entrance, and you’ll fill it with the contents from the safe in the back room. You can keep the money from the register. It isn’t but a hundred quid, anyway—plus, your wife deserves something pretty after the shit you’ve put her through—and we’ll leave without disturbing your customers.”
The older man looked past me to James standing behind me to my left before he nodded, having more to lose if this entire ordeal went bad. The three of us followed him back to the safe, and I ordered Reggi to get back in the car as James and I helped the chap fill two laundry bags to the brink with cash.
We tossed the bags into the truck, and I slammed it shut. “You have a nice night, Mr. Taylor.”
The old chap, eyes fuming in a blind rage, shook as I got into the, now empty, driver seat before driving away.
Before I’d shown up at Jack’s Pub, I’d learned the laundromat we were jacking tonight was owned by Mr. Taylor, who wasn’t as innocent as he claimed to be. Even though he had more than enough money to take care of his family, his pounds went toward thirteen and fourteen-year-old girls Oscar had previously groomed for him. Oscar was gone, but I wasn’t naïve to believe his taste dissipated in Oscar’s absence.
“What the fuck just happened?” Adrian stated at my side from the passenger seat.
“Know your target, my friend. You always have to be ten steps ahead.”
Laurie, Travis, and I arrived in London for my first book signing, and I’d escaped from their tight leash in search of the toilet room as they set up the booth. Daunt Books was a three-story wonder in the eyes of a dreamer, with mahogany shelving and railings, wooden staircases, and leather seating. The details were rich and masculine, showcasing books lined on both walls from one end to the other. The ceiling opened up to the sky, and vibrant green light pendants dropped from above, matching the same color as the paint surrounding the arched window at the end of the building. It smelled of aged paper and coffee, and the serene silence rooted itself in every nook and cranny of the bookstore, wrapping me in temporary peace.
No matter how badly I wanted to enjoy this moment, to celebrate this stepping stone in my career, I couldn’t. Not without Mia here to celebrate with me. What should have been a marvelous moment, ended up being a chore I’d been forced to take part in. It seemed pointless to be here when I could be doing something, anything, to find her. She should be here with me, calming my nerves and telling me she was proud, but she wasn’t.
“There’s no reason to be nervous. You’ll do just fine,” Travis stated, appearing at my side and flipping on the faucet to wash his hands. He never used the loo, and it was just an excuse to talk me down from the cliff my emotions were hanging on. We both knew it, and we never did discuss what happened the other morning. He had his beliefs, I had mine, and there wasn’t anything he could have said for me to change my mind or convince me to stop looking for her.
“I’m not nervous.” I continued to roll the sleeves of my black dress shirt up until it reached my elbows before moving on to my other arm, showing my tattoos. Anything to bring forth the real me under these masked clothes that screamed I was an imposter. “I just don’t do well around crowds.”
I turned to face him, and he looked ridiculous in a white button-up and blazer, though Travis exuded poise and control.
“Everything is set up. There’s a line out the door waiting for you. Laurie wanted to have a pep talk with you before going in, but I told her I had it under control.” Travis forced a reassuring smile. “Your pretty face is on your cover, but I think it’s time to show these people who the real Oliver Masters is.”
“Yeah, whose idea was that anyway?”
“You’re a good-looking chap,” Travis adjusted my collar, “the ladies fancy you and your face sells.” He patted my cheek. “Let’s go, lover boy.”
The event had lasted four hours long. Men and women gushed over my words, talking a million miles a minute, and I couldn’t keep up. Some wanted pictures, and others simply wanted my signature inside a book they either brought with them or purchased from the table. With every passing body, my energy gradually decreased from their emotions, tears, smiles, and life stories they felt compelled to tell me about. My hyper-sensitivity made the entire event worse, mentally and physically drained from absorbing whatever they were putting off.
“Oliver?” a familiar voice stated, and I turned from the table Laurie and Travis were packing up to see the girl with the L name staring up at me with my book clutched to her chest. She looked different than when I’d first seen her at Jinx’s party, no lipstick, roots touched up, and wearing a pastel floral dress despite the cold temperatures outside. L no longer looked like my mum. Did she make the hour trip to London just to see me?
“You two know each other?” Travis asked, his palm smacking my tense back.
I tilted my head toward him. “A friend of a friend.”
“Well, in that case,” he held out his hand, and his gaze slid over her bare legs, “Travis Lehman.”
“Leigh,” she introduced herself, shaking his hand with eyes locked on me. It made me uncomfortable. “Looks like I missed the event.”
“It’s okay, would you like for me to sign the book? I didn’t know you were into poetry.” I couldn’t recall her mentioning it back at the party I’d met her at, though I was drunk and could have missed the entire conversation. Leigh held out my book with my face on it, and I grabbed it, leaned over the empty table, and retrieved a pen from the back pocket of my jeans.
As I signed, she added, “Can I get a picture, too? If that’s all right, of course.”
“Absolutely,” Travis answered for me. Turning back around, I waved Leigh over and held the book up for the camera. Her arm slipped around my waist as she pulled me close, and her body trembled at my side. Travis snapped the picture. “You know, we’re going to the Green Lion afterward to celebrate. You’re more than welcome to join us.”
My jaw flexed, and I shot Travis a knowing look. This gathering was news to me, and I especially didn’t have the energy to entertain Leigh.
Leigh’s eyes and voice lit up. “Oh, that sounds like fun!” she released me and took her mobile from Travis, “I’d love to come.”
After everything was packed up and ready to go, I helped carry the boxes to Laurie’s car before we said our goodbyes. I got on to Travis for putting this last-minute outing together without talking to me about it first. “This is a good reason to celebrate,” he had said, but there was nothing to celebrate. The only true measurem
ent of success was happiness, and my number was in the negative.
The drive back to Surrey was a tad over an hour, and I’d advised Travis I’d meet him in the beer garden after ringing Dex to check on the progress with finding Scott. I’d dropped the money off from the laundromat run the night before, and he seemed pleased with how smoothly the run went. In return, Dex confirmed he’d take a closer look into the cabin fire, get more details, and if Scott had any other properties or vehicles in his name. As always, he didn’t answer, and I left an urgent message.
The rain had stopped, and the temperature decreased as the sun descended behind the arbor. I didn’t want to be here, but Travis had invited his fiancé, Summer, and it was important to him for me to meet her finally. I spotted him in the garden at a secluded table in the corner with, I assumed, Summer at his side.
I made my way toward the two as they faced a band playing laid back acoustic music. A few people danced in the garden, chilled beer mugs in hand, as children ran carelessly about the swaying bodies.
After an hour, I’d learned Summer was older than I’d presumed, with golden hair, blue eyes, and soft features. At only four months pregnant, her loose blouse hid her tiny belly as she sipped on ginger ale. She was forthcoming, witty, and cursed like a sailor, but able to quiet Travis when no one else could. I liked her immediately and knew Mia would too.
Leigh showed, and I introduced her to Summer like the respectable gentleman I was, but I couldn’t help the way my crestfallen heart pounded to a somber beat as they shook hands. This entire day was meant for Mia and me. She should be here. Mia should’ve been the first girl I’d introduce to Summer, to Travis, to everyone.
I needed another fucking drink.
The girls took off to the loo—Summer’s third time—and Travis leaned into me with the cup brought to his lips. “The girl wants to fuck you,” he whispered now that Summer was not around. I didn’t bother meeting his eyes, keeping my gaze on the band and my hand steadying my bouncing knee. “She’s not bad to look at either. She seems young but legal. Maybe some fanny would be good for you, nothing serious. You’re on edge.”
“Grow up, Trav. My dick doesn’t get hard whenever a female is in proximity.” Not anymore. That was the medicated Ollie, the one polluted with pills and morality stripped.
Back at Dolor, I’d discovered a lot about myself—the hypersensitivity. For me, a whisper seemed like a scream—a touch, a violation—and the energy others produced, consumed me. I’d rather be back at the motel, but I had responsibilities now and people to please—a job to do. And Travis regularly reminded me. He was only trying to be a friend.
The girls returned as soon as my phone rang. It was Dex, and I excused myself and walked off from the crowd to answer.
“Scott has no other properties besides the two you’re already aware of,” Dex confirmed, which was what I’d been worried about. “It can take over eight weeks to identify the bodies from the fire, but they are confident one of them is him. We just won’t know for sure until after they complete their investigation.” A silence played out between us. “Look, Oliver. I’ll continue to look into this for you, but we have a dodgy cop who mentioned Scott is a member of the force, which you failed to mention. Now, I don’t exactly know what you got yourself into, but if I continue digging, I want you officially on my payroll. You work for me now.”
“The body in the cabin isn’t Scott’s. It can’t be. Keep digging. I’ll continue to work for you until Scott’s found, but I’m giving you one week to get me a lead—something. Check the airports, street-cams, all of Cheshire and Liverpool. If a week passes and you don’t have shit, consider this deal voided.”
“You’ll have to give me more. Why are you looking for him?”
“That’s none of your concern. Just find me Ethan Scott.”
“I’ll call back with your next assignment.”
The call disconnected, and helplessness crept along my veins until it reached my aching heart. My fingers clenched around the mobile, wanting to drive my fist into the first object my eyes came across, and before I knew it, I was inside the bar, ordering a shot of whiskey to dull the pain. For one night, I didn’t want to remember how bad it hurt. I was tired of waiting for Dex to find her for me. I was tired of waiting for her to come back to me. I was so fucking tired of feeling like this. I just wanted to get past midnight for once without the cold inside my chest, without the thoughts of our last moments replaying over and over in my head. I couldn’t accept she was dead. I couldn’t accept she left me. The only thing I could accept tonight was a shot of whiskey—or three.
Travis ushered me away from the bar and back into the garden where the music was pumping, and the crowd was increasingly rowdy. The hours passed as the rest of them laughed and danced, and I fueled up on liquor as I slowly burned in this miserable hell, invisible to the world around me.
Leigh tried to pull me up from my seat, but the only girl I’d ever dance with was Mia.
“His girl left him,” Travis incorrectly informed her. “He’s a bloody wreck.”
“She didn’t leave me,” I stated, but my voice choked on annoyance.
“What happened?” Leigh asked, taking a seat beside me and moving her hand to my thigh.
I should’ve moved it away, but my arm wouldn’t work properly. “She just …” I lazily snapped my finger, “vanished. Into thin air.”
“Well, she’s stupid for ever leaving you.”
I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes at Leigh. “She didn’t leave me.”
“She died,” Travis whispered, thinking I couldn’t hear him, but I did.
Leigh’s features changed, and she scooted her chair closer to me, too close, and moved her clammy hand over my tattooed arm. “Do you want to talk about it?” It was kind of her to ask. On any given day, I’d fancy any conversation pertaining to Mia. I could write an entire book on her eyes, her smile, her kiss, her lips, the way she made me feel, and how all the men in the world combined couldn’t compare to her strength. I admired Mia and what she was capable of.
A tear slipped from my eye, and I rolled my head back and pushed a palm down my face. The alcohol wasn’t helping, and Leigh was too fucking close for my liking.
“I’m taking you home,” she stood and attempted to pull me up along with her, “It’s getting late, and you shouldn’t drive like this.”
“I’m fine. I can walk back. It’s not far.”
“She’s right, mate. Let the girl take you back to the motel,” Travis agreed.
Could no one hear me?
The four of us walked to the car park, and before I knew it, I was inside the cabin of someone else’s vehicle as Leigh’s voice became a backdrop, asking questions, answering them herself, and going on about my poetry bringing the two of us together. I chuckled at her nonsense. Leigh was wrong. My poetry rested in the hands of a girl with a candid spirit and guarded heart.
“I feel like I’m talking too much,” she said through a sigh. Funny enough, I hadn’t been listening. Not really. Instead, my focus stayed out the passenger window, counting cars to make sure I didn’t pass out. The headlights and streetlights zoomed by, and I closed my eyes. I could pretend I was in a space shuttle on my way to the stars. Perhaps Mia was there, hanging between the sun and moon—the only threesome I’d fancy. “We’re here, anyway.”
Leigh made a turn into the motel lot, and it was odd she never did ask me where I was staying. Or perhaps she did, and I just didn’t hear. Either way, we made it, and the car came to a stop right in front of my motel room beside my station wagon. “Thanks,” I said, pulling the door handle.
I made it out of the car and in front of the door, clumsily searching for the motel key as Leigh walked up behind me. When I turned, a bottle of Hennessey magically appeared in her right hand, and she held it up at her side and shook it with a shy smile. “Thought maybe we could get to know each other a little better. What do ya say?”
“I say you have the wrong idea about me,” alre
ady drunk on alcohol, I hoped my point made it across without sounding like a world-class wanker, “I’m not looking for a quick smash. I’m engaged and in love with someone, happily.”
She considered my words for a moment, too long, and I felt my world spinning, maybe from the booze, so I went back to trying to get through the door with the key.
“I’m only here to talk, Oliver. Just a friend.” Her cold hand landed on mine, and she took the key from my fingers. “Let me at least get you inside.”
Quickly, I brainstormed every scenario, none of them ending in a way Mia would be proud of. I could let her inside, share a bottle of Hennessy, and exchange our favorite colors and explain what my tattoos mean. Eventually, she’d be too drunk to drive and would have to stay, and there was no room for her to sleep that wasn’t beside me, which was the best-case scenario. Every other ended in sex, and I refuse to have a girl take any part of me that didn’t belong to me in the first place.
That would be stealing.
The world spun with me as I turned to face her. “I have this. It’s late. You should be heading home. I appreciate the ride, truly,” I stretched out my palm for the key, “I’m sure you’re lovely, but I’m not allowing it to go any further than this.”
Three days had passed since Ethan rescued me from the fire I’d caused. I’d wanted to burn down with it, to die in my sleep so I could be with the man in my dreams, Ollie, forever. But once again, Ethan had taken him away from me.
My plan to remain compliant backfired. I’d tried to run away, but what people never seemed to realize was you never had to run to escape from something. The man in my dreams had taught me that. Ollie continuously closed his eyes if he ever needed to escape from the cruel world around him, often bringing me there with him. Then I’d realized people ran away every day, getting lost in work, hobbies, habits, or in my case, my head.
The fire was my way of running away from Ethan.
It was the only way my complex brain understood how to run away.
Now Open Your Eyes (Stay With Me series Book 3) Page 8