“Thanks, guys,” Claire says, wiping away another tear from her eye. She can’t believe how much lighter she feels after speaking with the twins. They understand. They are the best form of therapy. “Let’s get lunch?”
A smile crosses both twins’ faces, and Claire almost gasps at their resemblance to Brandon. She refuses to let this newfound friendship go. They have a special bond that can never be replaced and can never be fully explained.
They have a special bond called Brandon Wilson.
MARK AND LUKE say they know the perfect place to eat, so Claire follows in her car. As soon as they pull into the diner, another wave of nostalgia flows through her body. They are at the Burger Bar, the same place Brandon had brought her with Marcus.
She meets them at the door, the memories flooding her soul. “Why did you pick this place?”
“We’ve been coming here since we were kids. We love this place,” Luke replies as he holds open the door for Claire. She takes a deep breath and walks inside. She sees the exact same booth the three of them sat in only months before. How things have changed. Brandon is lost forever and Marcus is dead. She enters today with two new people.
They sit in a different booth, away from the one where she sat with Brandon. She and Luke on one side, Mark on the other. She glances over the menu but already knows she is getting a burger. The last time she was here, it was delicious.
“So you’ve been coming here since you were kids?” She was under the impression that Brandon wanted to come here due to its hole-in-the-wall type atmosphere. She thought another reason was because the owners and their employees looked high and wouldn’t recognize them.
“Yeah, Grams and Gramps always used to bring us here when we were little. Brandon loved it, too.”
“He brought me here…with Marcus.” Her voice lowers as she diverts her eyes from the table. She makes eye contact with the twins instead.
“He brought you to all his favorite locations, didn’t he?” Luke asks, and she feels a lone tear stream down her face. “Yeah, he did.”
They are silent for a moment, as Claire pretends to look over the menu. Then she decides to ask the loaded question, although she thinks she already knows the answer. “Do you think he will try to contact you?”
The boys glance at each other, their matching brown eyes searching the other’s face. “We’ve already talked about that, and we think he will. We don’t know when, but…I have this feeling he will try to be in touch again...” Luke’s voice trails off as what Claire thought to be true is confirmed.
“Will you tell him ‘hi’ for me when you speak to him?” The boys nod and Luke presses his lips together.
“You don’t think he’ll try to contact you?” Luke asks.
“No. You’re blood. He’s known you his entire life. Me? I’m just a girl he met and knew for three months. If he contacts any of us, it will be you two. Just please tell him ‘hi’ when you do speak to him and…let him know I’ll always love him.” As she says the last sentence, she lowers her eyes to the table. She is almost certain she will never see or hear from Brandon Wilson again. The thought sends tremors throughout her body.
“If we do speak to him, we will be sure to mention you, Claire,” Mark says, grabbing her hand to offer her comfort.
“Guys, I would like for you to make another promise to me, please,” she starts, because she has to let them know what she is feeling.
“Anything,” they voice in unison, reminding Claire that they are, in fact, twins.
“Even when you’re off at college in the fall, please keep in touch with me. Please don’t forget about me.”
“Never,” Luke says, placing an arm around her in brotherly love.
“I think our paths crossed for a reason, and I want to continue to be part of your lives. Okay?”
“Claire,” Luke says, “in a round-about-way you saved our brother. We’re indebted to you forever. Welcome to the family.”
She smiles a genuine smile for the first time in days. It feels great to be part of the Wilson family.
SHE WALKS INTO her house, the day almost gone, and for the first time since being returned, she feels at peace. Burying Marcus and then spending time with the twins was exactly what Claire needed. Walking inside, she is shocked to find her dad in the den. He is sitting on the couch, his hands on his lap. He looks like he has aged fifteen years. Claire wonders if he has looked like this since she returned home. Now that her eyes have been opened, she sees her parents in their true light.
Both of them are worried sick, and she has been so distraught, she hasn’t noticed. Claire walks into the den and sits next to him. “Dad?” she quietly asks as he turns his head in acknowledgement. His eyes are bloodshot and his blond hair is a mess.
“Claire, where have you been?”
“I’ve been out. I attended Marcus’s burial at noon and then I needed to clear my head afterwards, so…I went out.” She repeats herself because her dad is scaring her. He looks terrible. How is she just now realizing this? The guilt runs through her veins as she watches her dad run his fingers through his hair.
“Tell me what I can do, Claire? Tell me what to do to make this better and to fix you?”
Her broken heart breaks more as she grabs her dad’s hands. He is literally worried sick. Claire had thought he was staying home from work to help her, but now she sees it was because he is such a mess. He couldn’t go to work if he tried.
“Dad, I’m okay. Really,” she says as he brings his identical blue eyes to hers. Everyone always said they were a mirror image of each other, but the only similarities Claire had ever noticed were their piercing blue eyes. “Well, okay, so I wasn’t good,” she admits, “but now I am. I did some thinking this afternoon and I’m better. I can even speak with Officer Spenser now.”
Relief washes over his face as he pulls Claire in for a hug. “What happened to clear your mind?”
Should she tell him about the twins? Should she tell him everything? The internal battle raging inside her head tells her yes. “Dad, do you have a minute? Can I tell you the entire story?”
He nods and shifts on the couch to make himself more comfortable. “Claire, you have my undivided attention. Please, please tell me everything. I just want to know that you’re okay.”
Guilt floods though her again as she realizes what she has done to her parents. They are probably both only a few steps away from having a stroke, with the toll of the last three months lying heavily on their chests. Claire decides to start her story at the beginning.
She tells him how she met Brandon at the law office while Brandon was there posing as an intern. She tells her Dad how charming and sweet Brandon was, and how they went to lunch. How he blew her off and she went home dejected and alone. She plays up Brandon’s good qualities, explaining the reason he rejected her that day at the Cheesecake Factory.
She explains how, days later, she was walking in the parking garage at school, when the van appeared out of nowhere and took her. How she was roughly thrown into the back with a sackcloth thrown over her head. Once inside, she realized another body was with her. She didn’t know Sarah was the other body until the sackcloths were removed at the warehouse.
She tells her dad how angry Brandon became when he realized she was the one kidnapped and how he had no idea that Claire was Birch’s daughter. She speaks about how he protected her and how sweet and caring he was to her while she was kidnapped. She even tells her dad about what she did to find the twins. She expects her dad to be angry and lash out, but he doesn’t. He silently sits and lets her finish her story.
“That’s everything that happened, Dad. That’s the full story. And this afternoon, I was visiting with the twins. They attended the burial with me.”
Her dad pauses for a minute before grabbing her hand. Once again, she thinks he is going to be seriously upset with her, but when he speaks, his voice is low. “Then why were you so sad? Why were you so upset when you arrived back home?”
Now it
is Claire’s turn to pause because she hadn’t told her dad the complete truth. Once again, she decides to hold nothing back. She owes it to her father to explain everything.
“Because I fell in love with Brandon, Dad.” She feels his body deflate as if she has told him the worst possible sin of her life. “Dad, please, don’t think less of me. You don’t know Brandon. He’s not the monster you think he is. I had to have this exact same conversation with him. You both think the other one is a monster, when the truth is, you’re both great men.”
“I think he brainwashed you, Claire,” her father says stiffly. “You were the victim in all of this. I don’t like him, and there’s a reason those files remained sealed. He’s dangerous. You have no idea what that man is capable of.”
“Dad,” she places her hand on his arm, “Brandon will prove to us that he will make the right decisions. I’m confident of this. I was with him almost every day for the past three months. He’s not the monster the news is making him out to be. I know he will make the right decisions from this point forward.”
Her dad shakes his head and pulls away from her touch. “Claire…” he pauses before looking back to her. “You’re my daughter, and you’ve always had your head on straight. If Brandon does the ‘right thing,’ I will personally help him. I’ll bend over backwards to help the boy…if he ever makes the right choice. I’m just glad you’re back. I’m glad he returned you safely.”
He reaches over and grabs her in a huge embrace. She hangs onto her dad with every ounce of energy she can muster, because she knows he is telling her the truth.
Like she has known all along, Brandon and her dad are both good men.
THE WEEKS PASS and the depression takes over my body. This is exactly how I responded to the deaths of my parents, grandparents, and the loss of my brothers. The death of Marcus and the loss of Claire are almost too much for me. I am stuck in Tim’s apartment, never able to leave, and I think I might be going crazy. I notice Tim and Tommy exchanging glances, but the ability in me to be angry has vanished.
Most mornings, I find it impossible to get out of bed, as the painful reminder of what happened consumes me. I should be in despair that I lost my business, but I’m not. A small part of me is angry about that, but only a very small part. I’m more upset about Marcus and Claire. I’m mad at life and God. Why do I always lose those I love? Why am I left all alone in the world with no one who loves me?
I think back to my brothers. They love me, but I never made good on my promise to see them again. Now I will be heading to Mexico soon, and my opportunity to see them will be forever lost.
I’ll be heading to Mexico alone.
My life has gone from bad to worse. I can probably hook up with all sorts of Spanish speaking women and have mindless sex. I’m thinking these thoughts to help my depression, but who am I kidding? After sex with Claire, I can never return to the mindless kind. And I know I will probably meet some Spanish people and develop friendships, but how do you replace a friendship you’ve had since high school? The answer is you can’t.
I’m lost and I don’t know the way out. My life is at a dead end, and I don’t see any potential for hope or light. I sink back into sleep to numb the pain. I hear my phone beep for the hundredth time, but I ignore the call. There isn’t anyone on the other line I care to speak with anyway.
“DUDE. GET YOUR ass out of bed.” Tommy’s voice is rough, and I open my eyes to see him and Sally. It’s light outside and I have no idea what day or time it is.
“No.” I say as I lie back down and close my eyes. I hear Tommy sigh and I feel Sally’s hand on my arm.
“Brandon, neither Marcus nor Claire would have wanted you to be this way. They would have wanted you to live your life and to carry on.” Sally’s voice is soft and I know why Tommy has brought her. She’s like a mother to all of us, and he’s brought her to work her charm.
“I have no life to carry on with, Sally,” I say keeping my eyes closed.
I hear her sigh and feel her rub my arm. “Brandon, that’s not true. If your life was supposed to have ended, it would have ended that night. But it didn’t. That means there’s something else out there for you. You can’t give up. For Marcus and Claire, you can’t give up.”
I open my eyes and see a worried expression on both their faces. I run my hand down my face and stare at the ceiling. What does she mean, I can’t give up? I have nothing to live for, isn’t that obvious to everyone?
“But they’re both gone.” I say the sentence to the ceiling and expect tears to fall, but they don’t. My tears have been so numerous, in and out of sleep, that I have depleted my supply. I’m officially a husk of a man.
“Please, Brandon. Get up and eat. Move around some and get out of this bed. I made your favorite meal. Please, for Tommy and I. Please?” She’s begging me now, and even though I don’t feel like eating or moving, I can’t turn down Sally. I nod and sit up, taking in a deep breath.
The world seems different now: plainer, simpler, darker. My feet touch the ground, and I stand. Except to pee, I haven’t left this bed in days, maybe weeks, and I stumble out of the room behind Sally. I think maybe I’ve eaten some food at some point, but I really don’t remember. We walk to the table and Sally happily starts filling up my plate. She continues to help Amy set the table while Tommy and Tim join us. The aroma of food overpowers the room, but I still have no appetite.
I glance at the others talking and carrying on conversation. Their mouths move but I don’t comprehend what they’re saying. Their lips move and I hear noise, but that’s what all is: noise. My mind starts to wander, and I see Marcus lying dead on the floor. Then I see Claire’s face and remember the argument we had in the alley.
I haven’t been awake long enough to relive the memories, and thinking about them now causes me to cringe. I start breathing heavier, and then tears I didn’t know I had start to fall. The death of a loved one always hits me a couple of days later, never in the moment. I start to shake, convulse, and scream.
I pick up objects in Tim’s home and start throwing them, my rage once again consuming me. I’m angry with God and life and I feel like I might explode. I don’t notice the others, as I allow my emotions to take over my body. I scream and throw, punch and kick until I have no energy left to fight.
Then I crumble on the ground in a heap and let the sobs consume me. I curl into the fetal position and let the misery flow outward. I continue to release the anger and misery, allowing it to leave my body.
That’s when I notice I’m feeling emotions again. I’ve been so numb these past couple of weeks. I was never angry, sad or upset; only depressed. I will live through this. I don’t know how, but I’ll survive. I’ve survived all the other deaths and losses, and I’ll survive this. Somehow, some way, I’ll survive. I take a deep breath and pick myself up off the floor. I don’t look around to survey the damage as I walk back to the table. The eyes of the others are round and fearful as I sit down in my spot. Thank goodness I didn’t throw my food because for the first time in weeks, I’m actually hungry.
“How long have I been in the bed?” I ask, directing my question to Tommy.
“Three weeks.”
I pick up the chicken and take a bite. The taste consumes my body and I recognize true hunger. The others slowly pick up their silverware and start eating as well. I don’t join in the conversation. I stare at the wall and think. I need a plan and one starts to formulate in my head.
This is a daring plan with a daring ending. A plan that has no choice but to work, with no room for failure. I hear the voices of the others as I map out my mission step-by-step. Once satisfied with the outcome, I smile a devilish grin. This will be my final act, the last display of fireworks Brandon Wilson will show.
I decide to keep my plan a secret. No one would agree with me on this. In fact, they would call me crazy and beg me to reconsider. But I know what I must do. It will be the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make, but the best one as well. I can’t contin
ue to live my life like this. I’ve always known something would have to give. The day has come that I have finally reached the tip of the iceberg.
I ASK TOMMY and Sally to visit for breakfast the next morning. I want to see them one last time before I put my plan to action. Yesterday was a turning point in my depression. After dinner, I headed to the hallway bathroom and showered for the first time in weeks. I shaved and had Amy cut my hair. It was starting to become shaggy, but I had enjoyed the feeling of Claire’s fingers grabbing my hair during the best moments of my life. Now that she’s gone, there’s no need to keep it long. I might as well buzz it off, but Amy said a simple cut would be best.
Thinking of Claire doesn’t hurt as much now, simply because I’m about to make a life-altering decision. I head to the kitchen and see breakfast on the table. Tommy and Sally are already there and we sit and talk. For the first time in weeks, I participate in the conversation. I learn that the warehouse has been raided, that Richard came by and took care of business, and that Simon went to jail. I’ve missed a lot of news while being cocooned in my bed.
“I’m going to need a car today. Do any of you have one that can’t be traced?” They look at me like I’ve lost my mind, but I keep a poker face.
“Boss, do you realize what happens if you’re caught? If someone sees you? You’re going to jail. Immediately. No questions asked,” Tommy says, his eyebrows raised.
“Yeah. I’m aware of that. That’s why I need a vehicle that can’t be traced back to either of you. I need to get out of here. I’m going crazy. I need fresh air and I’m willing to take the chance of getting caught.”
Everyone glances around the table like I’m a mental patient, and I lose it. “I need a vehicle! Who’s going to give me what I need?” My voice rises, and I slam my fist on the table. Tim and Amy jump, but Tommy and Sally stay put. They’ve seen and experienced my temper countless times.
The Thief Redeemer Page 19