Rett

by Tess Oliver

  He walked ahead of me and slid open the glass door. “Then we won’t converse.”

  Five steps into the walk, Jude started talking. “Finley, I’m sorry I was an asshole about Barrett. The picture shows that I misjudged him. It’s clear he cares about you.”

  “Not any more. I took care of that.”

  “Why? Because you freaked out when you discovered that your dad might have been a murderer? If that scared him off then it’s his loss.”

  “I’m sure he’ll never want to talk to me again, and besides, we’re sort of trapped here in the house.” Lilly Belle called to me as soon as she heard my voice. The work on her barn had come to a complete stop, and it was hard to know when it would be finished.

  “I’m sure we can figure out a way to get you to see him. There’s always the hole in the wall.”

  I looked over at Jude. He was actually encouraging me to see him, and I should have been shocked. But I was too terrified that Barrett would have no desire to talk to me. “Until all this is cleared up and things are back to normal, I don’t want to pull him into this anymore than I already have.” I walked to the portable feed shed that we’d purchased for Lilly Belle and dragged out a flake of hay. Lilly did her usual happy dance when she saw me walking toward her with breakfast. Some Pig had trotted ahead of me, and he sat patiently waiting to help Lilly devour the hay. His snout twitched in the air with excitement. “This is an act,” I said. “He doesn’t even like hay. He just wants Lilly to like him.”

  Jude shook his head. “Someone should write a book about that pig.”

  “Uh, I think someone already did, remember? It’s a children’s classic. Shit, you men really need to read more.”

  Jude rubbed his hand through his hair. “Do what’s right for you, Fin. Seeing Barrett was only a suggestion. You just seemed really happy these last few weeks, and to tell you the truth, I’ve been feeling like a heel about the whole thing.”

  Even with the dreary realities hanging over our heads, I couldn’t hold back a smile. It was such a rarity seeing Jude act contrite that it lightened my mood. I reached over and hugged him. “Boy, Eden must really have been giving you a hard time.”

  “No,” he protested, but it was forced. “Sort of, I guess. But you seem to have finally found someone you really like, and I feel guilty about giving you a hard time.”

  “I was excited. He seemed really right for me. I might call him later, but I don’t have the courage right now. I just want this thing with Dad to be over and for him to be safe at home with us.” My voice wavered again as I spoke about it.

  Jude dropped his arm around my shoulder, and we headed back toward the house. “Me too, Doolittle. Me too.”

  ***

  By late afternoon there was still no word, and they hadn’t found the other person of interest. We’d all decided to take Cole’s route to dealing with the stress of everything. Jude mixed up a batch of strong margaritas, and with my stomach basically empty, the tequila went straight to my head. My limbs felt heavy and my thoughts were jumbled and no longer attached to the rational world. Cole had gone up to bed, and Jude and Eden had retired to the pool house. I climbed the stairs behind my pet pig, who I was certain kept casting scowls of disappointment at me as I shuffled behind.

  Some Pig released one snort of disgust and trotted into his manger in my closet. I flopped back on my bed and waited for the room to stop spinning. The bag I’d taken to Malibu sat on the end of my bed unpacked and sad. I’d been really excited about spending time alone with Rett. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at it with the delusional notion that he might have called. He hadn’t. No doubt he was at home, happy to have dodged the crazy Finley bullet. My tequila tweaked mind convinced me to go online and take a look at what was going on.

  The story of the murdered girl in Nicky King’s bed was still at the top of the news feeds. For the first time, I saw a picture of the girl. She was young and pretty and I wondered how much agony her parents were going through right now. My own parents’ torment at losing Chloe was still fresh in my head as if it had just happened. I remember walking out of the hospital with them. My mom had to be wheeled out and my dad looked as if someone had reached in and ripped out his heart. And I remember the horrid press taking pictures of the whole thing. ‘They’re just blokes like me trying to earn a living’ Dad always said about the people taking pictures of us. Growing up with them around all the time had hardened me to their presence, but Barrett had handled it all incredibly well.

  The famous pool picture came up on my next search. I rubbed my thumb over the screen. Barrett was so beautiful and so easy to miss. I scrolled over to my contact list and before I could think about it, I swiped my thumb over his number. It rang three times before he answered, and my heart sank with each ring.

  “Hey,” he said quietly.

  “I warned you I was sort of a basket case.”

  “What do you mean?” His tone wasn’t cold but it was different.

  “I’m sorry I freaked out so bad.”

  “It didn’t seem out of line with the situation.”

  I swallowed. He was done with me, and it was so painfully obvious that I wished I could take back the call. My throat tightened. “My life is absurdly complicated. It’s not the life I chose, but it’s the one I’m stuck in. I love my dad but sometimes I wish he was just a dad.”

  He didn’t respond, and I felt the tequila burning my stomach and throat.

  “Can we meet to talk?” I asked. The alcohol was giving me courage I wouldn’t normally have had. It wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

  “I guess. Is there still a swarm of reporters at your house?”

  “I think so, but there’s a hole in the wall near the tennis courts—”

  “I know. That’s how I got past them after I dropped you off.” I’d been awful to him that day. I’d been so wrapped up in my cocoon of self-pity, I hadn’t said a word to him.

  “Thank you for stepping in between me and the reporters, Rett. I’m sorry they’ve plastered your picture all over the place. I didn’t mean for my problem to become your problem.”

  He was quiet again for a few seconds. “Yeah, I noticed that.” His tone and response confused me.

  “I don’t want you to have to come here. Meet me at Stanley’s Coffee House on Beverly Blvd. Noon tomorrow?”

  “See you then.”

  Even with my buzzed thoughts, there was no way I could convince myself that I’d just had a conversation with a guy who missed me or a guy who longed to see me again. Now I would have to spend the rest of the night telling myself that it was all for the best. If losing him felt this awful after only having known him a short while then it was better to rip the bandage off early and get the pain over with. I was brave and stoic when there was tequila coursing through my veins. Tomorrow I would be sober, and I would be sitting across from him at the coffee shop. And then there was always the ugly possibility that he wouldn’t even show up.

  CHAPTER 20

  Rett

  A month ago I was still sneaking out of girls’ bedrooms before they had a chance to wake and ask if they’d see me again. A month ago I was avoiding answering texts and calls because I’d found it easier to not get involved with any girl. Now I was driving to meet a girl at a coffee house in Beverly Hills. I hated coffee houses and I didn’t care much for Beverly Hills either. I had no idea when it had happened, or, for that matter, how, but at some point in the past few weeks, Finley King had wrapped herself around my heart. And with the shitty way I’d been feeling since she cut me out of her life, I’d come to the conclusion that I should have stuck with my first game plan. Relationships weren’t for me.

  The truck sputtered a few times before the engine turned off. The parking lot was close to empty, and Finley’s Porsche wasn’t there. I walked into the coffee shop and several heads popped up from coffee cups. A few people stared as I pushed my sunglasses up to my head. I found an empty booth in the back and slid into it. I stared back
at the few people who were still watching me, and they returned their attentions to their coffees.

  I leaned back against the vinyl seat and stared out the window. A black Charger pulled up in front of the coffee shop. Its powerful motor vibrated the walls of the small shop as the passenger door opened and petite feet popped out. I didn’t need to see the rest of the girl to know it was Finley. My heartbeat sped up as I watched her hurry to the door. The black car pulled away once she was safely inside. She had a black beanie pulled low over her white-blonde hair, and she was wearing giant sunglasses that covered most of her face. But the dark pink pout of her lips was all too familiar beneath the disguise. She headed straight to the booth.

  She took off the hat and glasses. “Did you know it was me?”

  I gazed at her. “You could have walked in wearing a paper bag over your head, and I would have known it was you. You don’t walk like a normal person.”

  Her eyes widened. “I don’t?”

  “No,” I leaned forward and placed my forearms on the table. “You float, almost as if you have tiny wings on your heels.”

  Her long lashes fluttered down. A faint smile crossed her lips. Her thin shoulders lifted with a long breath, and she peered up at me. “Barrett, I wanted to explain my behavior the other day.”

  “Told you there was nothing to explain. You’d heard some really heavy news. Look, Finley, I knew all along that this was a far-fetched notion— the two of us.”

  Round blue eyes stared back at me. Finley opened her mouth to respond but couldn’t seem to find the words.

  “Did you two want to order some coffee? This booth is for customers only,” the counter girl stood over us.

  Finley looked at me. I shook my head. “Could I get a hot tea with lemon?” she said.

  The girl stared at Finley for a long second and then nodded and walked back to the counter. Finley glanced back at her. “I think I went to school with her.” She turned back to me. “I figured this whole thing would be enough to scare you off. I just wanted to see—”

  “Is that what you think, Finley? You think I got scared off.” I sat back. “Fucking hell. After you heard the news, it was as if I’d just vanished. I was just some guy driving you home. I asked if you wanted to talk about it and you called your brother.”

  She looked completely stunned by my words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—. It’s just my life is complicated.”

  “Yeah, you’ve mentioned that before. Everyone’s life has complications. Yours just comes with a mega-famous family name.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply that your life was less important than mine. You’re twisting my words.”

  “But my life is less important. I’m just an ordinary guy trying to figure out how to survive. I don’t even have a fucking car to drive. I’m just shuffling through life occasionally lucky enough to find a good fuck.” I was going full asshole on her and even with the hurt in her face killing me inside, I couldn’t stop myself. My own heartbreak had been too unexpected.

  Her bottom lip trembled slightly, but she didn’t cry. “So, I was just a good fuck?” Her voice cracked as she spoke. “Or was I even that? With your world of experience, I was probably a miserable fuck.”

  The girl returned with the tea. Finley stared hard at me as the cup was placed in front of her. There was no way to lie to that face.

  “You were amazing, Finley. I haven’t stopped thinking about you. But as we drove out of Malibu that morning, I realized I was a just a small, meaningless part of your life. I can’t be that.”

  “I was upset. That’s all. I didn’t want to involve you in my dad’s problem.” She leaned back and looked so small and sweet all I could think was that I wanted to take her into my arms again. “My brother assured me that you’re still working for Kingston.” She looked at me questioningly.

  I nodded. “I start in a couple of days on some room addition down in the valley. So, this is probably all for the best. I really need that job.” Once again the sadness in her face tugged painfully at my chest.

  Her phone rang. She ignored it at first. Then it rang again.

  I looked down at it. “Your complicated life is calling you.” I wanted to take the words back the second they left my mouth. Her blue eyes glossed with tears as she answered her phone.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “Yes, I took off the stupid disguise. I’m in the coffee shop.” Then her eyes widened, and she glanced around the shop. People returned their attentions to their cups. “Shit. All right. Bye.”

  She hung up and straightened her shoulders. “You think everyone’s life is complicated like mine?” She lifted up the hat and glasses. “How many times have you had to wear a stupid disguise because every nosy jerk in the world wants to know what you’re up to.” Tears flowed and I had to resist the urge to take her hand. “When other people take too many pills, their picture doesn’t get splashed all over the papers with ugly headlines.” Cars began pulling into the lot, and people in the shop started talking louder. Camera phones came out. Finley pulled on her hat and glasses. “Go out first. I don’t want to get you caught up in this shit anymore,” she sobbed.

  “I’m not going to leave you like this.”

  “Just go. It will only make it worse if we walk out together.”

  All eyes followed me as I reluctantly stood and walked out the door. Cameras clicked off as I stormed through the small crowd that had already gathered. Three reporters ran after me. “Are you Finley’s boyfriend? How long have you known the King family?” They shot several questions at my back as I ran to the truck. I slid into the front seat and looked through the windshield at the coffee shop.

  I could only see the top of the black beanie over the heads and cameras. They surrounded her like hungry lions around prey, a tiny, vulnerable prey. I jumped back out of the truck and stormed toward them. I was twice as big as most of them, and I elbowed my way easily through the crush of bodies. I swooped into the center. Finley’s glasses had been knocked to the ground in the chaos. Her frightened blue gaze landed on me, and my stomach twisted in a knot. Someone stuck a camera in my face and I shoved it away. I pushed toward her and swept her into my arms. She pressed her face against my chest.

  “Get the fuck out of the way,” I shouted through the tangle of questions and cameras. I cradled Finley against me and pushed my way back through, but they had the truck surrounded. The black Charger’s tires chirped as it flew into the parking lot. It screeched to a halt, and the window rolled down.

  “Rett, over here.” It was Jude.

  I ran to the Charger with Finley as the wave of people headed toward Jude’s car. Jude leaned over and pushed open the passenger door. Finley held tightly to my neck, and for a second, it seemed as if she had no intention of letting me go.

  “Finley, get in the seat,” Jude said sharply.

  She stared up at me as I lowered her into the seat. Her eyes didn’t leave my face. I couldn’t pull my gaze from hers.

  “Barrett, you should get in,” Jude’s urgent tone snapped me out of my trance.

  I shook my head. “No, I’m fine.”

  Cameras went off behind me, and people were lobbing questions into the car. “Jude, is your father home yet? Have formal charges been filed? Did you know the victim?”

  Finley’s eyes watered as she stared at me. I shut the door. I found it amazingly easy to ignore the press as I pushed past them and climbed into the truck. The Charger tore out of the parking lot. Some reporters rushed back to their vehicles to follow and others surrounded the truck. I pulled out slowly and found that just like with birds, they eventually got out of the way.

  I drove out onto the street. Jude’s car was long gone. A sick, icy feeling filled my chest at the thought of never seeing Finley again. I was done with this. I’d given it a try and it’d sucked. I was going back to my old ways, the old ways that never left me feeling as if someone had just stomped on my heart. The truck backfired once as I pressed the pedal and headed
out of Beverly Hills.

  CHAPTER 21

  Finley

  I sat up and looked over the back of the seat at the truck. Barrett made his way through the onslaught of reporters and curious onlookers. He jumped into the driver’s seat and shut the door on the questions being thrown at him. I slumped back against the seat, and Jude threw the car in drive. The tires screeched with rage as the car flew out of the lot and away from the press. . . and from Barrett. I could still feel his protective arms around me. The scent of his soap lingered on my skin.

  Jude looked over at me. “How are you holding up?”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t expect anyone in that stupid little place to pay attention to us. But I think the girl behind the counter went to school with me. I guess she recognized me.”

  “You are pretty damn recognizable, Fin. And your tall blond friend seems to attract his own brand of attention.”

  I shook my head. “I shouldn’t have come today. He had already decided we were through long before he got there. It was a waste of time, and it just made me feel that much worse about it all.”

  The coffee shop was just a few miles from the house, and most of the reporters had regained their positions in front of the estate. Jude looked at his speedometer. “How do these mother fuckers manage it? I’ve been going sixty through the streets, and they still beat us here.” He looked over at me. “Do you want me to hoist you up and over the wall? I can drive in alone.”

  I waved my hand. “Nah, just drive me through. I don’t give a crap about them. I just want to get inside.”

  The security guards Jude had hired stepped in to block the gap left by the open gates. Once we pushed past the last reporter, Jude floored it and we flew up the driveway.

  Eden and Some Pig met us as we reached the front door. Both of them looked worried.

  “Edie,” I sobbed and ran to her. Some Pig pressed his snout against the back of my leg, and I scratched his ear to let him know I was fine.

  Eden put her arm around my shoulder and led me into the family room. I climbed up on the counter stool and she sat next to me.