The officers return to us, Terrel stopping to speak into the radio communicator on his shoulder.
“That’s some pretty extensive damage to the tire, definitely not something you should drive on. My partner is radioing a tow truck right now if you want to go ahead and get whatever you need from the vehicle.”
Immy mumbles something about grabbing her purse, but I can’t focus on her words when Nash stares at me with such worry my heart is suffocating.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Sloane? I didn’t know this was your vehicle until I got out and saw you.”
“Really, I’m fine. I didn’t know you would be the one to respond tonight. I wouldn’t have…”
That contagious smile spreads across his face, causing dimples to appear. “Wouldn’t have what? Gotten into an accident?”
“You know what I mean.”
His expression softens, all laughter fading away. He steps closer, too close to be considered appropriate in our situation. “I’ve been worried about you.”
“It’s not your place to worry about me.”
“Then why does it feel like it is?”
Immy returns the same time Terrell does, and Nash retreats a few steps. “Tow truck has been dispatched. Shouldn’t be too long. Can we offer you ladies, a ride home?”
“That would be great. Thanks so much!” Immy skips to the cruiser, only stopping to turn around when she notices I’m not following.
“Yes, please take Immy home. I’ve already made her miss her big night. I’m going to stay and wait for the tow truck, though. I’ll have him drop me off at my house.”
My friend slinks back toward me. “I’ll stay with you. It’s not safe for you to be out here alone.”
“No, honestly go. I’m going to wait and make sure he comes for my car. You need to get home. You have an early shift at Chloe’s.”
She shifts her feet, and I can tell she’s uncomfortable leaving me.
Terrell retrieves a notepad from his pocket and flips it open. “Your friend is right. You shouldn’t be out here alone. We’ll all wait. Tow should be here soon, and I have to take your statement anyway.”
“If I have to give one more statement in my life, I swear I’m going to explode.”
Immy steps toward the officer. “I know I’m not the driver, but I was in the vehicle as well, and I saw everything. Is there any way I could give the statement instead of her?”
Terrell studies his partner, a silent exchange passing between them. He agrees with Immy and leads her to the back of the cruiser.
“Thanks. Again. You’re really quite the knight in shining armor lately.”
“Look, Sloane, I’m going to be real honest with you, and I hope it doesn’t cross any lines we haven’t already crossed, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I left your house that day. Your husband was really upset, rightfully so, but his reaction still concerned me. I don’t want you to be in a house that’s unsafe. Would you tell me if anything was wrong?”
No.
That’s the short answer. The long answer is no matter what happens between Owen and me or how bad things become—if it was even possible for things to get worse—I would never tell another person. Especially one I know Owen detests so much. Betrayal wasn’t a word in our vows. While Owen hasn’t been living up to his part of our promises, I still value mine. What happened between Owen and me recently made my blood run cold in fear, but I’m fairly certain he would never hurt me on purpose.
No, scratch that. I know he would never hurt me on purpose.
“Owen’s sister, my best friend, was murdered and the person responsible is slipping through the cracks. Owen’s just scared, and so am I. That’s all. You don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
“But. I. Can. You don’t know me. I’m feisty when I need to be.” Despite being stranded on the side of the road with a stranger who really isn’t a stranger anymore but, in fact, is way closer than he should be, I laugh.
And it feels good. Relief seeps out of me along with the tiny chuckles.
“Ah, I do know you, though. I always knew you were feisty.”
“Listen, I really appreciate your concern, but it’s not necessary. Someone very wise once told me it will all be okay.”
His eyes, so blue, I can see right through them and into his soul where every secret and scar that has been buried deep inside lays ready for me to unearth. Nash’s stare penetrates me in ways that make me feel exposed and cared for all at the same time.
“We’ll all be okay.”
SIXTEEN
Owen
About a month ago, Sloane busted up her tire and her vehicle was towed to Adam’s garage. He refused to work on it or have anyone else fix it. He fought me when I tried to have it towed somewhere else. He wanted me back in the shop working with him.
I hated him for what he tried to do.
I hated him for forcing me to work beside those guys and fix my own goddamn vehicle.
However, by the end of the day, I fixed the tire and tie rod end, then rotated and aligned them, did an oil change, replaced the rear brake bulb, and topped up all the fluids.
Slowly, I took a few shifts a week until I eventually worked full-time again. Between working in the garage and Sloane forcing me to attend grief counseling sessions with her, I’m getting stretched thin.
Goddamn, grief counseling will be the death of me. I’m trying, I really am. For her sake, I agreed to go for a few sessions just so she’d stop hinting at it every time we’re in the same room. I don’t want to talk about what happened because nothing I say and certainly nothing the therapist says will do anything to bring back my sister or make up for what has happened in her absence.
I’ll push it as long as I can, but I don’t know how many more sessions I can take. Even if it does make Sloane proud of me.
I need a break from the cycle of my claustrophobic life.
Today, Noah started his first day of senior kindergarten. This day came way too fast. I remember his first day last year. Sloane and I purchased a brand-new backpack for him, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle one he thought was so cool when we saw it at the mall the week prior. Sawyer dressed him in his new school clothes that he promised not to get dirty. Sloane and Sawyer probably took a hundred pictures of Noah.
I miss my little buddy. I hate that this summer blurred past us in a grief-stricken haze. We didn’t take any trips to the beach, no visits with all the animals at the zoo, I don’t even think he rode his bike or played in the yard. An entire summer is gone, and we won’t get it back.
Taking the front porch steps two at a time, I reach the top and knock on the door. Lachlan answers after a beat, wearing a shocked expression.
“Owen, I wasn’t expecting you. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just wanted to come by and wish Noah luck on his first day of school. Sloane had to bring her mom for eye surgery this morning or else she would be here taking gazillions of pictures.”
Lachlan smiles and lets out a small laugh. Things have been tense between him and me. We haven’t spoken much since the incident two months ago. I just can’t seem to find any words for him, and I think the feeling is more than mutual.
“Come on in, mate. Noah’s upstairs brushing his teeth.”
I step inside the home and hear the water running from upstairs. Lachlan stands awkwardly next to the staircase and shifts his weight. After another minute of silence, he clears his throat. “So, uh, you want some coffee or something?”
“No thanks, I’m good.”
He nods then shuffles to the closet, opens the door, and takes out a small pair of shoes.
“The shoes from last year probably didn’t fit him anymore, did they?”
Lachlan shakes his head, staring at the shoes in his hand. “No, they were snug, so I thought we should spring for a new pair. He picked them out. He likes the lights.” Lachlan slams the shoe against his palm, and th
e soles flash red lights.
“Well, look at that.” We both laugh because those are definitely something Noah would pick out for himself to wear to school. He made some friends last year, and I hope the same kids are there again so he doesn’t have to worry about being lonely. I remember how nerve-wracking first days of school can be. If there’s one thing I’m good at, though, it’s walking through life without parents. If nothing else, I could pass along what little wisdom that has earned me to my nephew. Noah is fortunate he still has a father present in his life. Talk about timing.
Noah bounces down the stairs, and his eyes widen when he sees me in the foyer.
“Uncle O!” He rushes toward me, and I lift him into my arms so easily, the same way I’ve done since he could walk.
“Hey, bud! I wanted to see you before you started your big day and make sure you weren’t nervous.”
I set him down, and he sits on the floor to put his shoes on. “Nervous? No way. Looks at these!” He takes his shoe from Lachlan, puts it on his foot then stomps the floor. The lights respond, and he giggles. “Pretty cool, huh? No ways can I be nervous with these on.”
“Well, now that I know how freaking sweet your shoes are, we have nothing to worry about.”
Lachlan lifts Noah’s backpack and shoulders it, turning to flick off the kitchen light.
“You ready to walk to school?”
“I’m ready. I like that our home is closer so we can walk there.”
I ruffle his hair then take a ball cap from the banister and place it on his head. “Now you’re ready.”
Noah giggles some more, adjusting the cap on his head. “Thanks, Uncle O. Are you coming for the walk?”
I arch my eyebrows and look toward Lachlan for approval. He smiles and takes the backpack from his shoulder, handing it to me. “Uncle O can even carry your bag.”
When I reach for the bag, Lachlan holds onto it tightly for a moment and captures my gaze. He nods once which I return, then I take Noah’s backpack from him.
This is Lachlan’s way of letting me know it’s okay. All the animosity between us is over. Everything that happens going forward is for the little boy who keeps stomping his shoes to activate the lights.
Everything is for Noah and his lights.
The school is alive with kids running rampant, teachers who appear to be on the brink of madness, and a lot of traffic. Noah’s right, I’m glad we get to walk this year, too. The parking lot was always such a bitch to maneuver through. Kids always popped out between cars, and the shrill sound of whistles being blown filled the air. It’s chaos, utter insanity.
A woman clutching a clipboard to her safety vest waves us over from the front of the school.
“Oh, there’s the principal.” Lachlan places his hand on Noah’s shoulder and peers down to his son. “You ready, mate?”
Noah nods, squeezing my hand. I give a small squeeze back, trying to silently reassure him it’s okay.
We walk toward the principal who, from a quick judge of her appearance, I would say is an undercover FBI agent from a detective movie and not in charge of an elementary school. She’s all legs in her pantsuit, white silk blouse under her blazer, and heels too high to be comfortable to stand in for more than five minutes.
“Noah Matthews! I’m so glad you’re here. I need some help this morning if you don’t mind. Could you maybe offer me some assistance?”
Noah scratches his arm, seeming unsure, but agrees anyway. She hands him the clipboard, and his eyes widen.
“What do I do with this?”
She crouches to his eye level, tucking her long brown hair behind an ear. “Well, my sir, this is the very extra special list of all the children’s names that are coming off of the bus in a few minutes. It’s very important they know where to go when they arrive. This job is usually reserved for a bigger kid, but something tells me you can handle helping me. If you could just hold onto those papers for me while I read off the names, we can make sure this goes easily. What’d you think?”
“I think I can do it.” He beams, and it reaches his eyes which sparkle with self-confidence.
I glimpse at Lachlan who is on the verge of tears. I know this day is difficult for parents, but I can’t imagine how challenging it must be for Lachlan to be thrown into the role of sole provider only having just found out about Noah. I don’t think anyone gives him enough credit. Especially me.
“Looks like Noah’s in good hands. Let’s leave the man to his duties.” I clap Lachlan’s shoulder then bend to kiss the top of Noah’s head. “Have a great day, buddy.”
“Thanks for walking with us, Uncle O.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
Noah turns to his father and wraps his arms around his waist. “Love you, Daddy.”
Lachlan places his hand on the back of Noah’s head and bends to press his cheek against it. “Love you, too, Noah. I’ll be at this spot at three o’clock to pick you up, okay? We’ll go somewhere fun for dinner to celebrate.”
“Can Uncle O and Aunt Sloane come, too?”
Without even glancing in my direction Lachlan says yes to Noah. There’s no way I could decline the invitation now.
After one more hug from each of us, we leave Noah to assist the principal.
Lachlan and I walk half a block, relishing the quiet warm morning air. The weather has been mild for August, and I’m grateful. The auto garage gets unbelievably hot in the dead of the California summer. Even with industrial fans blowing and the bay doors all open, it’s nearly unbearable.
“So, how do you like being back at work?”
The question strikes me as odd. I’ve never much pegged Lachlan for a small talker, so when I glance at him, he appears just as awkward as his question.
“It’s all right. I’m trying.”
“Yeah, I noticed. That’s good, mate. That’s really good. I’m happy you’ve found your way back.” The “before it was too late” is definitely implied.
“I was wondering if I could come by every morning and walk Noah to school. I don’t know what your plans are for work, or even if you’re getting a day job or whatever. And I know you probably look forward to as much time with him as possible. I just miss him. I thought it would be a good way to spend some time with him every day.”
Lachlan waves a hand at his neighbor reversing from their driveway then faces me. “I’m not sure about work just yet. Not a big priority for me right now, but I do know Noah would love to spend more time with his uncle. He talks about you all the time. Tells me stories about what you two used to do, how much fun you all had together.”
“He does? Fuck, I appreciate you telling me, man. I know you don’t have to let us stay in his life. It’s pretty amazing you stepped in the way you did.”
Lachlan nods as he studies the driveway. When he regards me again, so many different emotions play across his profile. “You think I’m doing good by that boy?”
“I don’t think you realize just how good. She would have been proud of you.”
Lachlan sucks in a shaky breath. “Every day, I’m terrified to my core. I’m all he has left, and if I fuck it up…”
“You won’t fuck up, and you’re not all he has. Sloane and I are still here.” He nods, and we let the conversation sink in for a few quiet seconds.
“So, Drew’s facing the judge today to determine if he’s fit to stand trial. What do you think’s going to happen?”
His name wrenches my stomach. “Either he’ll go to jail for murder. Or, after he gets released, I will.”
Lachlan holds out his fist. “No matter what, I’ve got your back, mate.”
I make a fist and bump his. “Thanks, bro.”
Hopping into my truck, I intend to head straight home to get ready for work, but instead irrational fury builds under my skin until I’m driving toward the courthouse.
If that motherfucker’s making an appearance today and there’s even a slight chance he’ll be set free, than damn right I’ll be wa
iting for him outside.
After I waste nearly an hour pacing the sidewalk, the anxiety inside of me takes over. Slipping through the entrance, I scan the room and hallways looking for any clues that will tell me where the murderer section is located.
“Excuse me, sir. Can I help you?” A security guard with dark skin and nearly black eyes saunters my way with her hands on her hips.
“Yeah, there’s a hearing today I need to be at.”
“The list of names, courtroom numbers, and times is over there.” She signals toward another guard sitting behind a wooden desk. “Get in line for security first.”
I pass through the security check and metal detector without any trouble. I roam over to the list, and his name immediately stands out.
Yep, today’s the day.
I take the elevator to the second floor. The judge has deemed his appearance a closed courtroom, so it won’t be open to the public. I wouldn’t be able to sit in a room with him without being convicted of murder myself. I’m more than happy to stay in the waiting area.
My mood instantly goes from anxious to fucking annoyed in a matter of seconds. Officer Hudson stands on the other side of the waiting area, carelessly chatting with several other cops. Suddenly, my anger splits between the guy who took my sister and the guy who wants my wife. I have zero fucking tolerance for either today.
He must sense my death glare because he glances my way the same time the door to Drew’s courtroom opens. My attention leaves Hudson and zeroes in on the back of his head. I haven’t seen him in years, but I’d recognize him anywhere. It’s almost as though his sinister vibes ripple outward, grabbing me, drowning me. Choking the life from my body.
Edges of Gone (The Gone Series Book 2) Page 13