Dark Corners
Page 19
Lies.
My robotic gaze shifted from my cup to pale blue eyes that looked so much like mine.
“I got scared, and had no idea how to handle the possibility that someone was following you. Uncle George assured me David was very professional and would do everything in his power to protect you. After meeting him, I felt better knowing he would be watching over you until we figured it out.”
Slowly my thoughts began to congeal into logical questions, but my mouth wouldn’t cooperate by asking them. Instead, I remained silent as my father went through his rehearsed apology.
He took the cup I clutched in my hands and placed it on the table. “Maygen, please say something.” While waiting for me to respond, he took my hands in his. “Sweetheart, yell, scream, do anything, please.”
“There is no excuse for keeping me in the dark,” I muttered quietly.
“You’re right. Looking back, especially knowing how independent you like to be, I should have told you. Believe me when I say it hurts to know I disappointed you so much. It’s something I’ll have to live with. It also kills me that I was responsible for bringing David into your life. I had no idea he would take advantage of me, of you the way he did.”
My hackles rose when my father continued to speak so negatively about David. The fact that that upset me made me even angrier. I shouldn’t have been concerned with defending his honor, yet I wanted to shut my father up by supporting the man who lied to me. I was losing my mind.
“In fact, I’m still terrified that whoever sent me those pictures is still out there. If David isn’t with you, I’m going to hire someone else to—”
“Stop. Just stop talking.” I couldn’t take any more and interrupted him. “Dad, I just want to be alone. Okay?”
He released a short burst of air and opened his mouth to respond. After a pause, he shut it and nodded, thinking better of whatever he was about to say. “I love you, baby girl. Hopefully once you have kids of your own you’ll understand why I act like an ass sometimes.”
Leaning forward, he kissed my forehead and left without argument. The first thing I did once he shut the door behind him was to sigh in relief. I’d much rather be alone with my misery than to share it with anyone, especially my father.
I wondered why it was so easy to dismiss my father’s role in this mess, and not David’s. The only valid excuse I could come up with was that Dad was Dad. He couldn’t help how he acted, even though the older I got the worse he got.
But David was a man I could see myself falling in love with, and he hurt me.
—
The amount of time it took to act human again after your heart was literally decimated into a million pieces: three days—the key word being act.
A few days earlier I thought the weekend was going to be one filled with David and I making love, making memories, connecting. Instead it was filled with tears and self-pity.
But by Monday I had had enough. It felt good to shower and to put on clean clothes. It felt good to step into the outside world and feel the frigid temperature actually warm me. It even felt good to walk to work like a normal person.
During the three days in “bad breakup exile,” I moved through what I assumed were normal steps of recovery. Crushing sadness, self-doubt, anger, and lastly denial. If I just ignored what I was really feeling, how much I was hurting, and most important, how much I was truly missing him, all would be fine.
I would be fine.
Acting as if nothing happened, I strolled into DSS armed with plenty of lattes and pretending like I didn’t have a care in the world.
“Oh, my sweet girl is back!” Dax announced from his perch at the Table. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better, thank you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”
“No worries. Betha picked up the slack like a pro.”
“Should I worry she’s stealing my job as your favorite?”
“No. No, no, no.” He leaned in closer and added, “She drives me nuts.”
“I heard that!” Betha called out from her fishbowl office a few feet away. The woman truly had bionic hearing. I laughed out loud, and it actually surprised me when I did. I hadn’t thought about “him” for two straight minutes.
Betha followed me into my office and sat as I removed my coat. “Spill.”
“Spill what?”
She reached behind her and slammed the door shut. “I know for a fact you lied.”
“You’re nuts.”
“Am I?” She pulled out her phone and stared intently down at the screen with a frown on her face. Thrusting the screen toward me, she asked, “What does that say?”
It was a text I sent her after day two of my fake illness. I had finally pulled my phone out of the kitchen drawer and panicked when I read her threats. Not only was she coming to my place, but she was in the process of hunting David down through Google searches to find out what was going on.
“It says not to come,” I said. “David was sick, too. And since I caught it from him I was contagious. So?”
“So, David was not sick. Ask me how I know that.” She folded her arms waiting. When I shrugged nonchalantly, she added, “I called Eve.”
Fuck. I had forgotten how resourceful Betha could be.
“Betha, I can’t believe you did that.” By now his sister knew as well. I could kill her.
“Relax. I didn’t come right out and ask her. I said you were sick and I was following up on their invites for the show. She was surprised to hear you were sick, and said David hadn’t mentioned it when she spoke to him the day before. But you weren’t sick. Even if you had a fever of one hundred and nine, you would’ve been here.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You have to. I know you better than you know yourself.”
Her scowl softened when she noticed the tears forming in my eyes. Betha released a defeated sigh and reached for my hand. “Sweetie, whatever happened three days ago will fester into mold within your body if you don’t let it out.” She waited patiently, and nodded when I pulled in a deep breath. “Come on. Let it out.”
Feeling like I didn’t have a choice, and that I’d rather do this with dignity, I slowly recounted the events that occurred from Reed’s phone call summoning me to my dad’s offices to the conversation I had with David in my apartment.
Betha remained emotionless the entire time. Surprisingly, as I spoke it felt cathartic to get it all out. Once it was out, though, the hurt and pain slowly returned. I quickly wiped away my tears when I saw Dax staring at me with concern etched on his face.
“Do you want my opinion?” Betha asked.
“No. Not because I don’t love you. I just can’t hear that it wasn’t a big deal or he definitely has feelings for me. I don’t care. He was dishonest with me, and I feel so betrayed. I trusted him.”
“By he, I assume you mean your father as well. Really you mean them, right?”
I scoffed, “Of course…Dad and David.”
“Oh, because for a minute I thought you were only talking about David. Really, your dad is the one you need to have an issue with. He went through great lengths to make sure you were safe, but treated you like a five-year-old who couldn’t handle knowing she might be in danger. Right?”
“Yes.” I had no idea what she was alluding to. Not bothering to ask, she took it upon herself to enlighten me.
“Regarding David, I’m a bit confused. I mean, here’s this guy fresh back from fighting a war. No real job yet, no real purpose, and he’s propositioned to protect a wealthy man’s daughter. Protect is something he knows well, and getting paid to do it surely didn’t hurt the situation. But, wait, this is the part you lost me….” She scratched her head dramatically. “Didn’t you say the one and only check he cashed was dated the day before he met you?”
Clarity over the point she was making hit hard. “Don’t simplify this. He had plenty of opportunity to come clean.”
“True. He did. But if he had, would things have cha
nged between you?”
“I can’t possibly answer that question. How would I know that?”
“Try. Say he told you the truth after your first date. Would you have walked away?”
“Maybe.”
“Or the second? Could we agree you didn’t know him well enough at that point to get over it?”
I began to lose my patience. “Betha, this is all hypothetical. I don’t know how I would’ve reacted if he told me the truth weeks ago.”
“Exactly. And he didn’t know how you would’ve reacted. So, maybe when he said he had every intention of telling you, it was time he was buying, hoping that by the time he told you, you would have felt deeply enough for him that you could forgive his untruth.”
Dax knocked on the door, thankfully interrupting the pointless discussion between us. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have a show to plan. Can you ladies join us, please?”
“Sorry. We’re coming.”
Betha stood and smiled condescendingly. “Food for thought,” she said before grabbing a latte and walking out of my office.
Refusing to entertain her theory, I hoped Dax would be able to transport me into the world of fashion and out of the world of David.
Chapter 25
David
If anything good came out of the past week sans Maygen, it was the fire I lit under my own ass to move on with my life.
Moving forward would be the only way I’d survive.
After leaving her apartment, I needed to be alone. Through Nick, I lied to my family, claiming I left town to visit an army buddy. I knew what was coming, a predictable tailspin into the worst episode I’d had since coming back from Iraq.
I lived through seventy-two long awful hours of a self-induced hell. I allowed the darkness I had successfully contained since meeting her to take over my physical and mental well-being. I say allowed, although I really didn’t have a choice. Most of my emotions had been bottled up within me, the pressure building like a shaken bottle of soda. What happened with Maygen could be compared to removing the cap. Once off, once exposed, the emotions gushed out of me uncontrolled.
That gave the PTSD authority to control me. I was held hostage inside my own body. My mind clawed desperately to fight its way out. Victim to the morbid thoughts that plagued me, I finally succumbed and took the antianxiety medicine that had sat untouched in my medicine cabinet since returning from Iraq. I hated the way it made me feel numb. But it was that or who knew what would be left of me by now.
Once the PTSD fog lifted, I was able to think logically. Still on my meds, I spent my time online finishing up my courses. I learned a lot those last few days. Psychoanalyzing myself during cognitive therapy inadvertently became my case study, and my demons held the key to the gates surrounding my hell.
Like a man possessed, my fingers flew over the keyboard as I finished up the last question of my final exam. This course gave me enough credits to receive a bachelor’s degree in psychology. I then planned on applying for a counselor position at the VA hospital. Until I received my master’s, job choices would be limited, but I’d do anything within my field until then.
Besides immersing myself in my courses, tracking Maygen took up the rest of my time. The more I thought about her issues with me the more annoyed I became. My only fault was keeping the truth from her, but I wouldn’t apologize for wanting to protect her. I still did, and still would. When her father hired me, he admitted he had his brother George add a tracking app to Maygen’s phone without her knowledge.
Until they figured out who was following her, I planned to continue watching her. She wouldn’t know it, though. I also wanted to have a chat with Nick. I needed him to investigate some of the people in her life. I trusted no one.
She spent three days in her own apartment, not leaving once. Just yesterday she went back to work, and once the day was done she went right back to her place afterward. I communicated with Ray and Felix, asking them to keep it to themselves. They each commented in their own way that that wouldn’t be a problem since Maygen was giving them the cold shoulder.
I wanted to assume her father was protecting her somehow. Needing to know and needing to explain myself, I had to call him.
I shouldn’t have been surprised that our conversation started off so negatively. He wanted me to stay away from his daughter. The only thing we did agree on was that her safety was still a priority. He admitted he would be telling Maygen the specifics behind the protection detail he arranged for her, not wanting to make the same mistake of keeping her in the dark. He agreed to keep me out of the equation, but made it clear that if asked he would admit I continued to watch over her even against his wishes. I didn’t know how she would feel about my involvement, and I’d have preferred she not know. Regardless, making sure she was okay was just something I had to do. To ensure he’d leave me out of it, I lied to him and said that I’d back off.
So lost in thought, I jumped when my apartment phone rang. Dread hit over who was calling since the only two people who had my number were Angela and my mom. Time was up, and hiding wasn’t going to fly with my family.
It had been days since I spoke to them, and the last time I disappeared without a word was a result of Angela’s ex being murdered and the FBI wanting my ass for the crime. After that nightmare, I promised them I’d never do that again.
Rolling my eyes as I answered, I said, “I’m here, I’m alive, I’m fine.”
“Smart-ass,” Angela quipped over the phone. “How was your trip?”
“Awesome,” I said, lying.
“When did you get back?”
“Wednesday.”
“Today is Friday.”
“I know,” I said with absolutely no emotion.
“What’s wrong? You sound off.”
“Nothing.”
“What’s going on with Maygen?”
“Shit, he told you?” I blurted out. Fucking Nick.
“Eve said she had the flu. I was calling to see how she was feeling.” Crap. “Told me what? ‘He’ who? Nick? What does Nick know that I don’t?” Her questions came at me in rapid fire.
“Nothing.” I sighed, annoyed at myself. Changing the subject, I asked, “How’s monkey?”
A few long moments of dead air passed between us. “Don’t use your nephew to distract me. What’s going on?”
I grabbed a plastic bag from the cabinet under my sink and crinkled it against the phone. “Bad connection. We’ll talk tomorrow,” I said before hanging up.
I wasn’t dumb enough to think that little trick would work, but if it got me some time before she started hounding me then I’d take it. Eventually, and by eventually I meant the next day, she’d know the truth. Angela had bugged the shit out of me with a persistent invite for Maygen and me to come for dinner, and when I showed tomorrow without her, the interrogation coming would be inevitable. I planned on explaining it all then. The last thing I wanted to do was get into it over the phone.
Even though it was only early afternoon, I dragged my weary body to my bedroom in an attempt to get some sleep. As I had every day since she broke up with me, I reached for the picture of us together. While studying our faces exhaustion suddenly hit hard.
Sleep evaded me when I needed it; my nights and days were completely flipped. After closing the blinds, I fell onto my bed hoping my mind would cooperate and settle enough to give me a few hours of uninterrupted slumber. I doubted it would happen, especially when a few minutes later my heart started pounding frantically in my chest. Sweat began to bead at the nape of my neck while my palms became clammy. I pinched the bridge of my nose, breathing in deeply in an attempt to stop the attack. I was unsuccessful, and a violent tremor passed over me, causing the shakes to hit hard.
My thoughts raced, but the images that flipped weren’t of Barry, of blood, of dust rising from the sudden halt of our Humvee. The pictures that appeared over and over in my head were of Maygen lying limp in my arms.
I flew out of bed, stalked into the bath
room, and with a trembling hand popped another pill. The very reason I didn’t want to take the meds before was the reason I was taking them now. All the progress I’d made since returning home by trying to settle my mind organically, by breathing through it and riding it out, no longer worked.
I stared at my reflection, seeing a familiar version of myself. Although I hadn’t looked this bad since returning from Iraq, the deep lines on my forehead, the dark circles under my eyes, the lifeless, vapid look on my face were things I was used to seeing. Only since meeting Maygen had a newer version of my face stared back at me. This face I knew well.
Frustrated that I was right back where I started, in a fit of rage I punched the mirror. I watched the fractured glass spread around my fist in slow motion like a spider’s beautifully spun web.
—
My sister sat stunned, not knowing what to say. The first words out of my mouth when I arrived were to wait until after dinner, and I’d tell her everything. Angela cleaned up after dinner, and I quickly apologized to my brother-in-law for assuming he had ratted me out. Of course, Angela immediately questioned him. Throughout, he held steady that all he knew was that she had the flu. When Nick took Nicholas in for a bath, she dragged me to the couch and pleaded for me to fill her in. Sparing her details would only cause a ton of questions, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her everything. Specifically, the building feelings I had toward Maygen and now the crushing loss I felt deep inside.
So instead, I shared generic details from the initial meeting I had with Garrett and George regarding protecting her, being called by Reed, and my conversation before she asked me to leave her apartment.
The sound of Nick’s footsteps walking into the living room snapped her out of her shock. He sat beside his wife, concern on his face in seeing the remnants of her tears.
“So, you knew this?” she asked him quietly.
“Yes.” Nick tucked her hair behind her ear. “Baby, I’m sorry.”
“Ang, don’t.” I could tell by the look on her face she was about to lose it on her husband. “I asked him not to tell you. Don’t get angry with him. Blame me.”