by Deja Voss
“He’s just a creep, Carol. If he comes back, tell him to leave me alone.”
“Like what kind of a creep, though?” she teases. “The kind who wears a trench coat and flashes people, or my kind of creep?”
“I thought that WAS your kind of creep.”
“Point taken. We have pharmaceutical reps coming in this afternoon with lunch. You got your big purse with ya so you can take home some leftovers?”
“Carol, I really need to get to work,” I say, rolling my eyes at her, “and yes.” I hold up my tote bag. “Thanks for looking out.”
There is way too much going on in my brain right now to process it all at once. Part of me wants to just call him back and face the music. It can’t have anything to do with Gavin. How would he even know?
“Where are you today, Sloan?” Dr. Peterman asks, dropping a file folder on the desk in front of me. “Your brain fall out on the back of that motorcycle?”
My heart skips a beat and my face turns white.
“Relax,” he says. “I didn’t tell anyone. I saw you leaving the other night. Must’ve been a pretty long ride if you left your car here for two days.”
“Just so you know, I didn’t have anything to do with Hank’s disappearance,” I blurt out. It’s probably one of my fatal flaws, offering information without being asked.
“I honestly don’t care either way. That whole situation was becoming a nuisance. You even said when you were doing his rehab plan that you knew he wasn’t going to follow it. Sometimes you just have to let things go. The police were pretty perturbed, however. I’m sure they’ll be looking for him.”
“Not my circus.” I shrug. Meanwhile, the only thing I can think of is the fact that I probably need to text Gavin and give him a heads-up.
“You know I don’t care what you do in your spare time. You’re young. You should be out having fun while you have the chance. But when you’re here, I need you one hundred percent here. All you’ve done so far today is wander the halls and stare at a blank computer screen. You’re so close to being done with this fellowship. Nine more months and I’ll make sure you have a job here. But it’s going to be hard to convince the hospital to retain the both of us if we’re not doing two times the work.”
I’m glad he still has faith in me, because I’m starting to waver in myself. I’ve seen a life that I never knew was possible for me and now I have a lot to think about. Right this minute, though, I need to get my head out of my ass and get to work.
“What do you got there for me?” I ask him, opening the folders.
“Just some case files. Let me know what you think about how to move forward on them. Garden-variety rehabs. It’s been a quiet couple of days. Everyone was probably waiting for you to get back to hurt themselves.”
“Let’s hope not,” I say. Honestly, the quieter my job is the better. I don’t like seeing anyone get hurt. Still, I need something to keep me busy, and a stack of papers isn’t going to cut it.
He leaves me to my business, closing the door behind him. He’s right. I need to get my mind back in the game. But my stomach is turning. If he saw me leaving with Gavin, who else did? Why is Officer Brighton looking for me?
Maybe that’s not it.
Maybe it’s something to do with Bender. I haven’t gotten any updates lately from his wife about my dog, but I understand she probably has her own things going on.
So many maybes swirling around. The only certainty is if I can’t rally and get my work done, I’m going to be in a lot more than hypothetical trouble. I wait for the office door to close behind me, and pull out my phone. I need to tell him what’s going on, even if it’s just for the sake of letting him know they’re looking for Goob.
Gavin:
“Hey,” she says on the other end of the phone. Her voice sounds slightly distressed. “Can I just meet you at camp tonight? I don’t know what time I’m going to be done.”
“Yeah, that’s no problem. I’ll be there when you get there. Take your time.”
“Gavin…” She trails off.
“Are you ok?”
“Never mind. I’ll see you tonight.”
I want nothing more than to tell her how much I miss her, how badly I want to be with her, be inside her, right now, but it sounds like she’s having a rough day at work. I, on the other hand, am having a great day of work at the Bucktail.
Olive is tending bar while I sit at the end, pouring over numbers so I can finish up the quarterly taxes.
“What’s wrong, Grandpa?” she asks. “You forget your bifocals?”
I look up at her with a wide smile across my face.
“I’m just making sure that what I’m seeing is right before I tell you that I’m giving you a raise.”
“Well golly,” she giggles. “If I would’ve known that letting you bang my best friend was going to be so financially advantageous for me, I would’ve handed her over a long time ago.”
I feel the blush run over my face. I can’t stop it. It’s so embarrassing. That girl has me feeling like a teenager falling in love for the first time. Olive is way too good at reading people. I’ve spent the afternoon with a goofy grin on my face, thinking about all the great things me and my old lady have to look forward to.
“No, Ollie. This is literally the best quarter we’ve had since I took the place over, and I couldn’t have done it without you. You really have been a huge asset.” It’s true. I look around and everything is cleaner, brighter. There’s more good times than bad times. Less fights. Less violence. It’s still there, obviously, but not to the extent it was before. It’s becoming more and more of a viable business every day.
“Bet you didn’t see that coming,” she laughs. “You just were using me as a means to an end. Now look what you got!”
“Everything. Everything I wanted and more.”
The door swings open, sunlight peeking through the cracks and I look up to see a police officer. He doesn’t have his badge out, but his gun hangs at his hip. Everyone seated at the bar puts their heads down, trying to be discreet.
“Jarvis, what the hell are you doing here? I already talked to Officer Stone about my incident the other day. I swear it was just a period thing,” Olive yells at him. “You know better than to come into this place unless you have a warrant. You trying to get yourself killed?”
I have to hand it to her, she’s a hard-ass when it comes to protecting the integrity of the bar.
“I’m gonna pretend like I didn’t hear that last part, Miss Remmer. Or the period part. I’m looking for Hank Boden, and this is the address I have on record for him. He was in a hit-and-run the other day, and I’m just following up.”
My ears perk up. My runaway brother. His whole life he’s never been able to man up and face the music, and my father thinks that by hiding him away in the house, he’s protecting him from the world, when really all he’s doing is keeping him from growing up.
“Nobody lives here, Jarvis,” Olive says indignantly. “It’s a fucking bar.”
“Well if you see him around, can you give him my card?” he asks nervously, slipping it across the bar. You can tell the man just wants to get out of here, as now that everyone realizes they’re off the hook, everyone’s starting to stare at him.
She picks it up and rips it in half.
“What the fuck do you care? The only person he hurt is himself.”
“A crime’s a crime, Olive.”
“Get out of here, Jarvis. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
It’s like she was made for this life.
She walks to the door and holds it open for him and he slinks off, looking about six inches shorter than he did on the way in.
When everyone is certain he’s gone, a slow round of applause trickles through the bar and she dramatically curtseys, blowing exaggerated kisses to the patrons.
“You’re something else, Olive,” I laugh. “You’re lucky he didn’t taser your ass.”
“We graduated high school together. He always
had a hard-on for me. You think they’re ever gonna get Goob?”
“If he doesn’t stop acting like such a dick, I’ll probably hand him over myself,” I say to her. “He’s got something out for Sloan, and I’m not sure what it is. Him and my dad both. They’re driving me nuts.”
She’s noticeably quiet, and it looks like she’s deep in thought.
“Probably just them being paranoid, right?” I ask.
“Yeah, probably,” she says, but I don’t feel any consolation in her tone. Before I can pry any more, she’s busy refilling draft beers and joking around with the customers.
Whatever. I have plenty of work to do before tonight, and I want to be at camp by the time she gets there. I head back into the office and begin shuffling through stacks of receipts.
“Gavin!” Olive whines. “I think the keg cooler is acting up again.”
“Piece of shit,” I mutter under my breath. It’s always something here.
Chapter 25
Sloan:
By the end of the day, I’m looking forward to spending the night at camp with Gavin more than anything in the world. It took me a few days of fresh air and fun to realize how sheltered I am in this little bubble at the hospital, how much I’ve been missing out on in my life. I like the thought of being an ‘old lady,’ and the idea that there’s someone out there in this world who genuinely cares about me and wants me to be happy is more than I could ever ask for.
Still, something is nagging me. That business card. The visit from Officer Brighton while I was away. I tried to call Gavin earlier and say something to him about it, but I couldn’t. I need to take care of whatever this is by myself and THEN I can take care of the hard part of explaining my past to him. For now, he doesn’t need wrapped up in the law, especially with the slew of felonies I’ve witnessed the last couple of days.
It’s well after midnight by the time I finally hit the parking lot. I pace across the concrete quickly, keys clutched tight. When I get to my car, my blood turns cold. There’s a sheet of paper tucked under my windshield wiper.
“URGENT - CALL ME - SCOTT,” is all it says.
Sure, I ripped up his business card earlier, but it’s not like his number isn’t programmed into my mind. During the whole Arthur situation, it was my saving grace. I had to keep it hidden, keep it memorized, especially as things progressed and I started becoming an informant.
I start up my car, making sure the doors are locked, and sit there with my hands trembling. I have a really bad feeling about what could possibly be going on. I pull out my phone and dial the number, and it only rings once before he picks up.
“Just so you know, we got eyes on you. You don’t have to worry about anything as long as you do as you’re told,” he says, his voice serious. I look out my back window and cringe. I can’t believe I didn’t see the unmarked car parked right behind me. I used to be able to spot them from a mile away. For a while there, I was always being followed.
“What’s going on?” I ask him. “Am I in trouble?”
“You might be in serious danger right now, Sloan. We might even be being listened to right now. I’m going to need you to come to your apartment. I have a full squad here. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
I need to call Gavin and let him know what’s going on. He’s probably already worried that I’m running so late. But what does Scott mean when he says I’m being listened to? Who could possibly be doing it? Does this have something to do with him and his club? I just need to hurry up and get to my place so I can get things straightened out.
As I pull up in front of my apartment complex, I notice Scott’s car already parked outside. It’s not just him, though. There’s at least five other unmarked cars within a stone’s throw. I haven’t seen anything like this since the weeks before Arthur and I’s arrest.
I park my car and edge out slowly, holding my hands up in the air. Better safe than sorry, I suppose. Officer Brighton and Jarvis Smith, a guy I graduated high school with, jump out of his car and run to me.
“You need to get inside now, Sloan,” Scott hisses. “You’re probably being watched.”
I don’t understand who could possibly be watching me, except for them obviously.
We go into the building, both of them hot on my heels.
“Can you please tell me what the hell is going on? Why are you being so cryptic, Scott?”
“It’s Arthur,” he says. “He escaped prison sometime on Tuesday night. He still hasn’t been apprehended, but they confiscated letters from his cell that lead us to believe he could be coming after you.”
My heart starts racing. How could this possibly be? The only thing good about that trial, that nasty part of my life, was knowing that it ended with me being safe from him as long as he was locked up. How could the jail be so incompetent? How could he be so smart to be able to escape?
I’m sure he wants me dead. I’m sure in his mind it’s my fault that he got locked up in the first place. And now, I’m standing in the place where he KNOWS I live. I’m fortunate I’m surrounded by the police, but are we really going to have to go through this all over again? What’s Gavin going to think?
“Did we really have to do this here?” I ask him as I unlock my apartment door. “Couldn’t I just come down to the station or something?”
“Thank you for being so cooperative, Sloan,” Scott says to me, standing over me as I sit on the couch with my head in my hands. “I know this sucks and we would have never in a million years expected this to happen. You probably are better off staying in your apartment until we figure out what’s going on. That way we can keep an eye on you.”
“Why in the world would you encourage me to stay here? I have somewhere much safer I can be, somewhere he’d never come looking for me, and you want me to stay in the apartment where he BLATANTLY TOLD YOU he was coming to? You guys are just trying to use me as bait, aren’t you?” I hiss, “Because, right now, that’s what it feels like.”
I feel like the wind has been knocked out of my sails. All these years I thought Scott was protecting me, helping me, but right at this moment, I feel like, all along, I’ve been a pawn to help him further his career.
He used my vulnerability to make me think I needed him to be safe, to escape Arthur. Instead of truly saving me, getting me out of that environment before he could abuse me any further, he waited until things got so bad that I could’ve been permanently injured or killed. He left me in that jail cell way too long after promising me I’d be in and out. He turned me into a bad person for his own gain, and I’m beginning to see it all too clearly now.
“I’m sorry, Sloan,” he says. “It’s what you signed up for. You made a promise to help me put him in jail, and now that he’s out, you’re back on the hook.”
“Get out of here,” I scream, not caring what the neighbors think. “I signed up for a clean slate. I gave you everything you needed, and you keep dragging me back to hell. You have nothing on me, Scott. NOTHING. I appreciate the heads-up about Arthur, but you’re going to have to track him down on your own.”
“I knew she was going to do this,” Scott says to Jarvis. “What did I tell you? She’s in on it. She’s probably been helping him plan his escape. Next time I see you, Sloan, I’m gonna have a warrant. I was kind to you last time and didn’t arrest you at the hospital, but I don’t feel like I owe you that luxury this time. Is that who you were hiding out in the woods with tonight, Sloan? You got Arthur there?”
“I thought you were the police officer. And if you were any good at your job, you’d probably have your answer to that question,” I hiss. “Go ahead and get your fucking warrant.”
I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to see his true colors, and I feel like I’m going to be sick. I can’t believe I left Gavin for this nonsense. I can’t believe Arthur is out of prison. My world is crashing down around me and I feel like all the air is being squeezed out of my chest. I lean up against the side of the couch, trying to keep from hyperventilating.
“You’ll be sorry, Sloan,” Scott says, standing over me, using his size to make me feel even worse. “What are you gonna do when he comes after you?”
“I’ll call the real police,” I say. “You and your crooked little buddy get out of my sight right now. And give me my fucking dog back while you’re at it. I thought you were a good man and now I don’t even trust his life in your hands.”
“That dog’s been dead for years now, Sloan. Get over it,” he says, shrugging.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse.
“And you couldn’t even tell me? I thought we were friends! I thought you cared about my well-being. It’s what you’ve said from day one.”
“Sloan, I could give a fuck about you and the corrupt shit you get yourself into. You USED me to get out of trouble for your criminal behavior, and I used you to make a name for myself. That’s how this relationship works, and that’s how it’s always going to work. You send me out of here like this, I can’t promise you that you will be safe.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I say, blinking back tears. “I’d rather live my life looking over my shoulder than owe you anything else.”
Chapter 26
Gavin
I just don’t understand how she could blow me off like this. No phone call, no text, no nothing. I realize her job is unpredictable—for all I know she could be in the middle of an operation—so I try to shake it off, but it’s going on 4 a.m. and I’m starting to get worried.
I try to call her one last time, but her phone just rings and rings. I don’t want her to think I’m some sort of controlling psycho. Maybe I’ll just take a ride to the hospital and see what’s up.
I hop in my truck and make the short drive over to Dixon, slowly circling the parking lot a few times. She’s not there. Every worst-case scenario thought goes through my mind. Is she sick? Is she hurt? Is she with another man?