Tangled up in Love

by Charlotte Byrd

  Maybe even more if I can arrange everything just right.

  We haven’t talked about that yet, but I am thinking of leasing a one hundred foot yacht and going down to the Virgin Islands or St. Barts, somewhere in the Caribbean, and just leaving all of our problems on land.

  My phone vibrates and I discretely look at the screen, expecting it to be a text from Harley.

  But it’s actually Julie.

  They just made up and while I’m stuck in this meeting, Harley went over to her place. It’s unusual for Julie to call me, so I excuse myself and pick up.

  “Hey, are you seriously getting married in two weeks?” Julie starts the conversation as if we are already in the middle of one.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I just know of this perfect little place that I think Harley would love.”

  “Okay,” I say slowly. “Why don’t you tell her about it then?”

  “I would but she’s not picking up the phone.”

  My heart sinks.

  “Wait, what?” I ask, certain that I just didn’t hear her right.

  “I just wanted to tell someone. Working on this wedding will really take my mind off things—” Julie starts to say but I cut her off.

  “What do you mean, not picking up? Isn’t she with you?”

  There’s silence on the other end.

  “She’s not with you?” I bark.

  “No…” she says slowly.

  “She said she was going to your place,” I say, putting the phone on speaker. I click on the app store and download the Find my iPhone app. I know that iPhones can be tracked remotely. I wait for it to load and then stare at the screen for a few moments to process what I’m seeing.

  “What is she doing in Long Island?” I ask Julie.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Something’s wrong,” I mumble to myself. “Okay, I have to go.”

  “Where?”

  “Long Island.”

  Everyone in the room stares at me with looks of concern and disbelief.

  “I have to go,” I say, grabbing my phone, laptop, and car keys.

  Once I’m on my way with the GPS giving me directions to her location, I call Andrew Lindell.

  “Where’s Parker?” I demand to know.

  “What is going on? Are you okay?”

  “I don’t have time to explain. But I think Harley is about to meet up with him.”

  “No, that’s impossible,” he says under his breath.

  “She lied to me about where she’s going. And she has been acting weird for a bit, closing her laptop as soon as I walk into the room.”

  “She could be seeing another guy,” he suggests. If we weren’t on the phone, I’d probably clock him. But I also know that he’s right. If I’m lucky, then she is just meeting up with a guy.

  “That’s why you have to tell me where Parker is. Then I’ll know if she’s headed to see him or not,” I say sternly.

  “Okay, fine, let me see what I can find out. I’ll call you back.”

  I drive what feels like hours before he calls me back. The city disappears and a slew of small towns and suburbs dot the highway. The vegetation is lush and green, and the clouds all around are menacing, threatening a downpour.

  “My source says that he’s in Long Island,” Andrew says.

  I clench my jaw. She is not out there for a date. She knows where he is and she’s going to meet up with him.

  “Jackson, did you hear me?”

  “Yes,” I finally say. “That’s where she’s headed.”

  “Shit,” Andrew whispers. “But you know Long Island is a big place. Where is she exactly?”

  I look at her location. It hasn’t changed in half an hour.

  “Montauk.”

  “That’s where Parker is,” he says quietly.

  Andrew offers to call the police, but I can call them just as easily as he can.

  The problem is that I have no idea why Harley is going there. She must have some sort of plan.

  She kept it from me and she’s doing all of this completely below the radar, so calling the cops might put her in danger.

  If she is going there to kill him, which is quite likely, then the last thing I want is to turn her over to the police.

  The authorities have no idea where Parker is, otherwise, he’d be arrested.

  So maybe letting her carry out her plan isn’t the worst idea.

  But then again, what if something happens?

  What if she doesn’t really have a plan?

  Then what?

  Then she is alone with a man, a murderer, who will do anything to hurt her.

  39

  Harley

  When I see him…

  The address that Parker gives me belongs to a mobile home park. There are people sitting on steps and grilling burgers outside.

  I sit just outside of it, in Jackson’s car, trying to figure out what to do. If I walk right down the main road everyone will see me.

  And what is about to happen is not something anyone should see.

  I look around for a better option.

  It’s the last single wide mobile home on the right side, backing into the woods. The trees are thick and green and it’s difficult to see a thing through them.

  I get out of the car and make my way through the woods. The gun that I took to Sam’s house is in the pocket of my hoodie.

  I run my finger over the barrel and wonder if I will have the strength to shoot him if the time comes.

  I didn’t have a plan when I first started driving but I do now. I am not going to shoot him. It probably looks that way, but that’s not what I’m here for. I got the gun for my protection.

  Parker is too good to be executed with just a bullet to the head.

  No, he deserves to suffer a long sentence in a maximum security prison where he would sit in a cell twenty-three hours a day.

  Through the trees, I see him in the kitchen of his mobile home.

  I dial the police and when the operator answers, I whisper for them to come quick and give them the address of this place.

  “What’s going on?” she asks after dispatching officers.

  “There’s a fugitive who committed a murder here.”

  “Don’t do anything until they arrive,” she warns me but I hang up.

  I don’t have any plans to do anything except to have a little chat.

  I knock on the door.

  “Dani!” I hear him say. When he sees me, he pushes the door back in my face. I put my foot out to stop it from slamming shut.

  “Sit down!” I pull the gun from my pocket and point it at him.

  “Stop moving and sit down!” I say sternly. This time he listens.

  I can tell that he is both nervous and happy to see me. He is getting a sick thrill from this, but so am I.

  For the first time, I feel like I’m in control. For the first time, he is the one who is afraid.

  “So…wait a second, you are Dani?” he asks, taking a seat on the couch.

  I close the door behind me without turning around and then position myself right in front of it.

  My feet spread apart, my hands are wrapped firmly around the gun. I’ve shot a gun only at a gun range, never pointing it at a living thing.

  I am no expert, but I know that it’s important to maintain a bit of a distance and to have both hands around the barrel for stabilization.

  “How did you find me?”

  “You weren’t hard to find. I just never looked before.”

  “Fake profile, huh? I never expected that. You got me there.”

  He is oozing with confidence.

  For some reason, he is proud of the fact that he made me chase him for once.

  Instead of focusing on an empty stare, I try to remember all of the millions of things that I wanted to ask him. But my mind goes blank.

  “So, what do you want?” Parker finally asks. “You got me here, cornered me. What are you going to do now? Kill me?”

 
“Maybe.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  Luckily, he doesn’t. I want to check how long it has been since I called the police but I can’t let him know that I’m waiting for something. What I know is that we probably don’t have much time.

  “Why?” I finally ask. “Why have you been so obsessed with me all this time?”

  He doesn’t answer right away. “I don’t know,” he finally says. “When I started reading your blog, it was all so real. I had to find out who you really were.”

  “But you did and you found out that I made all of that up.”

  “So?”

  “So? Why wasn’t that enough? Why did you keep…following me?”

  He darts his eyes to the floor, avoiding eye contact with me. Finally, when he gathers enough strength, he looks at me again.

  “I thought that maybe I could make you fall in love with me,” he says. The look on his face resembles the gaze of a lost child. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

  “So, why did you kill Martin?” I ask.

  “Who is Martin?”

  “My bodyguard. The man you executed on your bike. Did you forget that already?”

  He laughs, and the sad look vanishes. Instead, the psychopath underneath emerges. I’m taken aback by how quickly he undergoes the change.

  “How did you know it was me?”

  “Of course, it was you. Who else could it be?”

  He laughs again.

  “Okay, fine,” he admits it. “I’ll tell you the truth.”

  Just at that moment, the front door swings open.

  40

  Harley

  When I’m startled…

  It takes me a moment to realize who is standing behind me. But in turning around, I make a terrible mistake.

  You should never turn your body away from the man you are pointing the gun at. Once I do, Parker collides with me.

  He pulls me down to the floor and then immediately reaches over me.

  My eyes follow his arm, and I grab onto him just before he grabs the gun.

  Jackson kicks the gun away from him and then punches him in the face. Once. Twice. And then over and over again as I get up to my feet.

  “Stop! Stop!”

  “No, I’m going to kill this asshole.”

  “Stop, it’s not worth it!” I scream. “The cops are coming.”

  And with that, cars with loud sirens pull up to the mobile home, nearly deafening me with their cacophony of sound.

  When I pull Jackson off Parker, his hand is a bloody mess but not as much as Parker’s face.

  It’s barely recognizable.

  Fear starts to build up within me.

  What have I done?

  Jackson is here because of me and now they are going to arrest him for killing this asshole. Jackson’s life is going to be ruined, and it’s all my fault.

  The rest of the day is a series of moments, and together just a blur.

  Luckily, the paramedics get there in time to revive Parker and take him to the hospital.

  He may still die there, but so far, he’s alive and under arrest.

  The Montauk police separate us and ask me a million questions about my intentions. I assume that they are doing the same thing with Jackson.

  I decide to tell them the truth.

  I tell them every last bit of the truth and hope that Jackson does the same.

  I don’t know what Jackson knows, but I had no intentions of killing him, or even shooting him.

  That’s why I called them for help.

  “I just wanted to talk to him, that’s all. This has been going on for a very long time and I wanted a few minutes to talk to him. But I called you and asked you to come because I knew that I would need help,” I tell them.

  “And your boyfriend?”

  “I had no idea that he was going to show up. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going.”

  They aren’t entirely satisfied with my story and they keep bringing in new investigators to ask me more questions.

  I answer them to the best of my ability, repeating the truth every time.

  Once they are all out of officers, detectives from NYPD show up along with the FBI.

  Now, it’s their turn to ask me questions and I comply. I answer all of them and later that night, they finally let me go.

  I don’t know if things would’ve turned out this way if I hadn’t decided to record my entire conversation with Parker on my phone.

  But on the spur of the moment, I downloaded the recording app and dropped the phone into my crossover bag.

  Luckily, the recording ended up being quite a good quality and they heard what happened during the whole scene.

  When I walk out in the main hallway, near the entrance of the police station, I see Jackson.

  He runs over to me and takes me into his arms. Finally, I let out a big sigh of relief.

  “It’s over. It’s finally over,” he whispers.

  41

  Harley

  Afterward…

  We marry two weeks later in a small intimate ceremony at the venue that Julie found for us.

  It’s a small little bookstore specializing in independently published romance novels, thrillers, and other fiction.

  The bookstore is quaint and cute, with large stainless windows which let in a mosaic of light.

  But the really beautiful spot is the garden.

  I walk down an alleyway of cobblestones, surrounded by walls covered in ivy.

  Large rosebushes grow all around the walls and our guests sit in ivory white chairs right in front of the gazebo where Jackson stands waiting for me.

  I am dressed in a tight fitting antique white dress that hugs my figure and is scattered with the light of a thousand sequins.

  The gown is shoulder-baring making me feel like an elegant and glamorous princess.

  The look on Jackson’s face tells me that I chose the right dress.

  We do not write our own vows but instead repeat the vows that the officiant says.

  But then as we are walking down the aisle, married and holding hands, he looks at me and says, “I feel like I have been your husband forever. It’s as if we have always been married throughout our time in all the world.”

  Goose bumps run down my arms. I know exactly what he means.

  “It’s as if our souls had been united long before this moment,” I add. He gives me another kiss and everyone claps excitedly.

  After the wedding, Andrew Lindell and his people release pictures and videos of our ceremony and we are celebrated in both print and online magazines for having a small intimate and affordable wedding even though we could’ve spent a million dollars on it.

  At first, I thought that I wanted to have a big lavish wedding, but when the wedding planner showed up with her group of ten assistants, I got overwhelmed with all the decisions and instead reached out to Julie for help.

  Jackson was onboard with whatever so we went with this small venue and a limited number of guests.

  Only twenty-five close family and friends made the cut and that was more than enough.

  These were the people who meant the world to us and it was amazing having them there to celebrate our love.

  The one person Jackson didn’t want to invite was Aurora, but I insisted on it.

  She played a big role in our relationship, even if I didn’t want her to at first, and she was a good friend to Jackson throughout a lot of difficulties in his life.

  I was expecting her to show up with a new boyfriend, but she surprised me. She came alone.

  When I asked her about Elliot Woodward, she said that was the final straw. After they broke up, he was arrested for raping his personal assistant, and that’s when she knew that she couldn’t go on with her life like she was before.

  Otherwise, it would end in shambles.

  So, now she is taking time off from men for a long while in order to focus on herself.

  She has even booke
d tickets to a wellness retreat to Thailand where she will sit in silent meditation for a week.

  Later that evening, Jackson pulls me aside to share more good news.

  His private investigator called and said that Sam was arrested in a big drug bust and for second-degree murder of an associate and was facing more than thirty years.

  Parker would stand trial for first degree murder along with kidnapping and a slew of other charges.

  Both of them were denied bail as they are awaiting trial and the prosecutor’s office was certain that they were both going to get a lot of time.

  I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him passionately on his lips.

  “So, what are we waiting for?” I ask, pulling him back to the dance floor. “Let’s celebrate!”

  42

  Harley

  A new beginning…

  The glass smells like most windows at any airport, musty yet clean with the strong scent of a pine cleaning product. But that’s where the comparisons stop. Unlike the gates at JFK, filled with blitzed travelers overloaded with too many bags, we are the only ones here.

  His private jet, Gulfstream G550, with its beige leather interior offering large overstuffed reclining seats that look like they belong in an upscale movie theater, is having technical difficulties. The staff and crew are more than apologetic, often checking on us in the terminal while we wait.

  The terminal is only a terminal in name. In reality, it’s more like the lobby of the Four Seasons. Tufted leather couches with matching chairs, an elegant fireplace, and a polished grand piano that I wish I could play. When one of the staff sees me watching a video on my phone, he tells us about their private movie theater with eight rocking recliners and a selection of new releases only available in theaters.

  “Why even get on the plane?” I joke. “We should just spend our honeymoon here.”

  Jackson laughs. I can see that he is very at ease with all of this luxury, but I’m still not. Maybe I’ll never be and that’s okay. All of this is beautiful and grand, but I think it’s important to remember what life was like before. And what life is like for most people out there.