You for Her (The Edge Of Retaliation Book 2)

by Bella Jewel

  Jo exhales. “I have to go, honey, they need me here. I’ll talk with you further when I get home.”

  I hang up with her and am about to put my phone down when I see Tanner’s name flash across the screen. Well, isn’t that good timing?

  “Hello,” I say, answering it, trying to keep my voice casual.

  “Hey,” he murmurs, his voice husky. “How are you?”

  You mean, has anything horrible happened to me yet? Have I found out someone tagged my car? He’s ringing to check on me, or check if I’m home yet, one or the other. I decide to play dumb. Really fucking dumb.

  “I’m okay, a bit shaken up actually.”

  “Why is that?” he asks, his voice suddenly curious.

  “Well, I came home from my dinner out with Jo early because I was feeling unwell and the next thing I knew the cops were outside. Someone was trying to do something to my car, but they got whoever it was. It was scary. I didn’t even know anyone was around. Whoever has a problem with me is clearly not going to give up anytime soon.”

  Tanner goes silent for a moment. “See who they got?”

  “No,” I answer, “But it was scary, Tanner.”

  More silence.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  He clears his throat. “Do you want me to come over? Check the place out? Make sure you’re safe.”

  Over my dead body.

  You liar.

  “I’m certain we’re past that, don’t you? Considering our differences in opinion?”

  He exhales. “Callie, listen...shit, I have to go.”

  Of course he does.

  I would bet Tatum is calling right now from the police station.

  “Oh, okay,” I say, my voice sounding disappointed.

  “We’ll talk, okay? We will. Bye.”

  He hangs up, and I put the phone down, exhaling loudly.

  So it begins.

  It’s time to really start digging now.

  It’s time to bring this little plan to a huge crashing halt.

  6

  “HI,” I SAY, STARING at the woman who is standing in the open doorway, staring at me.

  She looks tired, her black locks tied up messily on her head, her grey eyes dull and exhausted. She’s wearing gardening clothes, and I’m guessing I caught her right before she was about to go and shower, judging by the towel hanging over her arm and the dirt coating her clothes. Does she know about any of this? Does she know who I am?

  I can only hope the blonde wig I just paid way too much money for, and the floral sundress I would never ever wear, will throw her off in the small chance that she may have seen me before. I need to talk to Chase’s family, and I’ll do just about anything to get my answers, even if it means she recognizes me. She could have an essential clue that could push me in the right direction.

  “Hi there,” she says, her voice scratchy. “Can I help you?”

  “Oh, I hope so. I’m an old friend of Chase’s. We used to go to school together. I’ve only just come back to town and a friend of mine told me he still lived here. I couldn’t believe it! I thought for sure he would have moved on by now. Is he home?”

  The woman’s face falls, it just drops. Like the very name makes her heart break just a little bit more. That upsets me. One thing I don’t like doing is upsetting people, especially people who have never done anything to me. “I’m afraid Chase doesn’t live here anymore. I haven’t seen him for six years.”

  I blink.

  Oh, this poor woman. She has no idea where her son is.

  Which means she doesn’t know what happened, either.

  I feel a little deflated, but I decide to keep asking questions anyway.

  “Oh,” I say, my voice getting softer. “Did he move away?”

  She smiles, a little broken. “After Celia died, he couldn’t handle living here. We had an argument and ... he moved away. He calls every now and then, but I don’t see him. I don’t ...”

  Her voice hitches, and my heart breaks for her. The poor woman, she thinks her son doesn’t care for her anymore, she thinks that it’s her fault he’s not here. Whatever they argued about is enough for her to believe his little lie about not coming home. If only she knew the truth, and that is that he no longer even carries his old name.

  Still, one thing stands out. He calls her occasionally.

  “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize. I didn’t mean to cause any upset.”

  “That’s okay.” She waves a hand. “It isn’t your fault.”

  “He no longer has a Facebook account, or a phone number, so I didn’t know what I’d find when I came here, I was just hoping he still lived around this area like I’d heard. That’s no problem at all. I really am sorry to have bothered you, ma’am.”

  She studies me, and then waves a hand, “Did you know Celia well?”

  My heart twists, and I nod, smiling. One person I hate lying about, is Celia Yates. “I did, actually.”

  She nods, sadly, “It was such a hard time for everyone.”

  I agree, smiling. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through so much.”

  She smiles back, broken, but a smile. “I’m sorry, I missed your name?”

  “My name is April.”

  She steps aside and says, “Would you like to come in? I have just brewed some coffee. I was on my way to shower.”

  “Of course, thank you.”

  “You’re most welcome. I don’t hear from Chase’s friends. I miss the hectic lifestyle that used to fill my house daily. It’s so empty without him here.”

  “You still have Tatum, that’s got to mean something.”

  I am risking everything throwing Tatum in the mix, but the fact is, I need answers and the only way I’ll get those is to take risks. It’s obvious Tatum has something to do with this, and I want to know how close he is to his family. He was obviously close enough to his brother to help him out.

  I didn’t get much information from the emails I found at his house, except Tatum going back and forth with someone about getting a new I.D. He didn’t say for who, and he didn’t say what for, but it was around the time Celia died. About a week before, actually, which makes me think he got his brother out and that’s when he disappeared and Celia freaked out. Slowly, it’s all piecing together.

  The woman nods. “Yes, my oldest son has been my rock. Do you know him, too?”

  “I do, yes.”

  She smiles, and we both walk into the large home. She points to the dining table and tells me to take a seat while she goes and takes a shower. I do so, watching her disappear down the hall. When she’s gone, I stand quickly and rush over to the kitchen counter. I frantically look through pieces of paper, trying to find something to give me an idea of where Chase is. There’s nothing there.

  I hurry into the living area and glance at all the photos above the television. Chase was a good-looking man, but that’s not surprising considering how Tatum looks. Chase is very similar looking to his older brother, only his hair is a little lighter, more a medium brown, and he’s clean shaven. He has the same light-blue eyes and the same mischievous smile. He’s gorgeous.

  I turn and walk back into the dining room, unable to snoop any further without risking getting caught. I notice a phone on the counter, just up the other end near the coffee machine. It would be locked, right? I mean, everyone locks their phones these days. Still, I can’t not go over and pick it up. I rush over, glancing down the hall to make sure I’m still alone. I pick up the phone and bring it to life with a swipe of my finger.

  It’s unlocked.

  My heart pounds and my fingers tremble as I frantically go into the contacts and search for Chase. I find him, and with a ferocity I never thought possible, pull out my phone and quickly enter his number. Then, with my hands still shaking, I lock the phone and place it down where I found it. My whole body is on high alert when I sit down at the dining table, shaking from head to toe.

  I feel like a damned criminal.

>   I feel like I’m invading her privacy.

  But I had no other option.

  She returns a few minutes later, clean and wearing a long, flowing, black sun dress. Her hair is wet and falling over her shoulder in one big, thick bunch. She smiles when she sees me, and says, “I didn’t introduce myself; my name is Freya.”

  I smile, and say, “You have a lovely home, Freya.”

  “Thank you, dear. How do you have your coffee?”

  “Just black, please.”

  She walks over, and my heart races as I watch her, terrified she will notice her phone. She doesn’t even glance at it as she prepares the coffee.

  “What do you do, April?” she asks me.

  “Currently, I’m working at a café, but I plan on doing something more productive with myself soon. Maybe go back to school?” I tell her.

  “That’s a wonderful idea. I’d love to go back to school. Chase always wanted to be a doctor. Did he ever tell you that?”

  “I think Celia mentioned it once or twice,” I say, my voice hitching. I have to breathe through it—she will know I’m lying if I don’t get it together fast.

  “Celia was such a lovely girl. I don’t think anyone will ever recover after that accident. That poor thing, just walking down a road. It broke her family. Just tore them right apart. Her parents have never been the same. I think they blame themselves.”

  “It wasn’t their fault,” I say, trying desperately to ignore the pain slamming against my chest as my heart ferociously pounds. “They couldn’t have done anything to stop what happened that night.”

  “No, you’re right, but they were going through so much they didn’t even know Celia was dating Chase for months. I overheard her telling Chase once that she felt ignored, that they didn’t even know she existed. After Mark cheated on Adriana, things just went south for that poor family. Tanner had to hold everything up. Do you know Tanner?”

  So much information.

  My mind is spinning.

  This woman clearly hasn’t had anyone to talk to for a while, she’s spilling things like we’re best friends.

  “I do know Tanner, yes. He’s a good guy. You’re right, Celia was having a hard time. It was hard after what Mark did. It really hit home for her.”

  I have no idea what I’m talking about.

  I feel sick.

  “I can imagine, the poor girl. For them to keep going on like nothing happened. I can’t believe they’re still together, to be honest. Word is he has another woman again.”

  God.

  She really needs to get out.

  “That’s so sad. I imagine all of this would have been hard on Chase, too?”

  Freya nods. “It was hard on him. The two of them started fighting and then she broke it off with him. That was hard enough, but then when she died ... He just couldn’t be here anymore.”

  “I didn’t realize he left,” I tell her.

  “He was only going to go for a while, but he decided he couldn’t come back. He still won’t tell us where he is, it’s like he’s pushed us all away and started anew. I rarely hear from him. The town lost Celia Yates, but I lost my son, too. It was the worst night of my life.”

  I won’t cry.

  Dammit, I won’t.

  “I’m so sorry. I hope Chase comes home soon.”

  She smiles, but it trembles. “I don’t think he will. I don’t think he will ever face up to what happened here. He’ll never be able to live through the pain.”

  I’m taking another huge risk asking this, but I have to know. “I heard that the girl who hit Celia said that she had stepped out in front of the car, did you hear that, too?”

  Freya nods. “I did hear that.”

  “Do you think it’s true? Do you think Celia was unhappy enough to do something like that?”

  Freya hesitates, and then says low, as if we’re being listened to, “I never said anything to anyone, but before she died, Celia was in a bad place. I overheard Chase telling his brother that something happened, and she was struggling. That’s when Chase started running off the rails. He couldn’t get ahold of her. It was bad. But after she passed, Mark and Adriana claimed she was happy, that there is no way she would have done anything like that. They even went through her things, nothing indicated she would hurt herself. No one in her family believed it. Celia put on a brave face, she always did, but I saw a different face. I saw the face she wore when she wasn’t with her family.”

  “She was hurting,” I say, my voice low, soft.

  “She was hurting,” Freya confirms. “I did try to mention it to Adriana once, but she maintained her daughter was happy. That the morning she died, the two of them had been dancing and laughing in the kitchen. I don’t know if it was denial, or if Celia really didn’t want her family to suffer so she put on a happy face to keep things flowing. Either way, I do feel for the poor girl that hit her, because maybe, just maybe, she did take her own life.”

  Finally.

  There is someone out there with doubt.

  Someone that doesn’t believe I’m the monster in all of this.

  I’m one step closer to getting where I need to be.

  Only one step.

  But it’s something.

  “SERIOUSLY?” JO ASKS as we walk toward a local Italian restaurant where we’ll be having dinner and a few drinks. “You have Chase’s number?”

  “Yes,” I say, “I just haven’t decided how I’m going to approach it yet. This is my one chance not to screw this up. If I do, he’ll run, and I’ll never find him.”

  I haven’t told her that I broke into Tatum and Tanner’s house, I just told her I overheard them saying they were going to tag my car. I don’t want to put anything else on her, she’s already going through enough standing beside me like she is. I can’t expect her to involve herself anymore than she already has.

  “Technically he’s already run, but I get what you’re saying. All the effort to change his name and disappear but he still calls his mom?”

  “If he didn’t, she would have probably called the police,” I point out. “I mean, think about it, she would worry he was dead, or hurt, and would have sent them after him, which would have looked suspicious for him. Instead, he has packed up and left, saying he couldn’t deal with living here anymore, and has decided not to tell anyone where he lives. He calls her every now and then, that keeps her from coming after him.”

  “That poor woman.” Jo sighs. “It’s so sad that she has to go through something like that. She must be heartbroken.”

  I nod. “She’s hurt alright, no doubt about it. She’s worried for her son, she misses him like crazy, but she’s so down and out that she lets him have it his way. He’s getting away with starting his life over again.”

  “Not for long,” Jo mutters. “He needs to face up to whatever he did to Celia, and he needs to own it. He has no right to hide and let you take all the pain from it. We’re going to find him, and we’re going to make him admit to everyone what happened to her.”

  “What do you think happened?” I ask, as we round the corner and the restaurant comes into view.

  “I don’t know,” Jo says, her voice low. “I’ve thought about it a lot, but the things I come up with that would be bad enough for her to take her own life make me feel sick. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been good, because nobody does what Celia Yates did unless they feel like they honestly can’t go on.”

  I nod, and my heart aches for the girl I’ll never know. For her pain. For her burden. “I wish I could talk to her. If I could have one thing in this world, it wouldn’t be to change that night, it would be to have the chance to sit with Celia for a day and just talk to her, about everything, about anything, and get to know her, secrets and all.”

  Jo reaches over and squeezes my arm. “If there was anything in the world I could give you, honey, it would be that.”

  I smile at her. “Anyway, that’s enough talk of this. Let’s go drink and eat and for a moment forget this hellish nig
htmare we currently live in.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  We make our way to the restaurant and, when we’re shown our table, we order some garlic bread, pasta, and some wine. Then we drink and talk and laugh. It feels good, to not be constantly living in the web of lies that has somehow managed to weave its way all around us, locking us in.

  “How are things with Pat?” I ask Jo when our pasta arrives. “We’ve been so tangled up in this mess, I haven’t asked you about it.”

  Jo shrugs. “It’s the same as it always is, Pat is Pat. He is constantly on my case about moving home and getting things back to the way they were, but that’s what he’s not understanding. I don’t want things back the way they were. I want my husband to be a husband. I don’t want to go on expensive dates, I just want to spend a night alone with him, without his phone or his job, or someone interrupting. He can’t let go of those things.”

  “I’m sorry things aren’t working out. Are you any close to deciding what you’re going to do?”

  She shakes her head and shoves a piece of pasta into her mouth, chewing and swallowing before answering, “I feel like I’m trapped still. I mentioned the other night that maybe we just needed to call it quits, and he lost it. Going on about how he’ll lose everything, and how his business will have to be sold ...”

  “Does he think you’d take everything?” I ask, frowning.

  “I mean, I’d be entitled to a lot of it. I wouldn’t take what wasn’t owed to me, but I’d have to start again, too. He couldn’t expect I’d leave with nothing. It’s expensive to live out in this world now, and I contributed a lot, too.”

  “No, you’re right, that wouldn’t be fair.”

  “So, he’s making it hard. He wants me to sign all this stuff, which I refuse. Then we went to a family dinner and everyone was putting pressure on me, saying how stressed he is, and how I’m causing so many problems with my up and down. How bad it would be if he lost everything. I feel like I’m trapped. I really do. I wish I could just wipe the slate clean, you know? Just start over again.”