by A. m Madden
“Anything suspicious on Reed Michaels?”
“Nothing. His birth mother is Gloria Michaels. What I know so far is that she’s a heroin addict and lost custody when he was a year old. She was arrested in California for dealing, prostitution, and robbery. Her last release five years ago places her in Los Angeles. No registered address. My guess is she’s living on the streets or she’s dead, but I’ll keep searching.”
“Father?”
“Unknown.”
“What about Reed’s wife? She seems nice enough, but maybe she’s jealous of Maygen for some reason?”
“I checked. Nothing out of the ordinary, but you never know.”
Nick watched as I mentally ran through the facts he’d just relayed. Gripping the back of my neck, I voiced my thoughts out loud. “So, most likely we have a bitter man who wanted nothing to do with his mother and erased her from his life?”
“That sounds about right.”
“I wonder if Garrett knows all this?”
“If he doesn’t, that raises a whole other set of questions.”
“And the partial print off the doll?”
Nick’s desk phone rang but he ignored it. “I’ll call them back,” he said before adding, “Dead end. Every one of the employees from the courier service checked out fine. The man seen on the security tapes is MIA. Anyone could have paid him to walk the package in and arrange delivery.”
“Fuck. If that fucker Reed has a hidden agenda, I’ll kill him myself.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, and I’ll pretend I didn’t hear you say that,” Nick said. “Are you still tracking her phone?”
“No. She has that fucking oaf with her at all times. I may not like him, but the dude could seriously lift a bus. If nothing else, at least I know she’s safe.”
“Things still awkward?”
“It’s so strange. We get along so well. I feel like I’ve known her my whole life. As long as we don’t bring up our relationship, all is good.”
“She must enjoy spending time with you, or she wouldn’t.”
I released a frustrated sigh. “I thought so. But on my way over she texted me that she wants to introduce me to a friend later at dinner, said she is very sweet. What the fuck is that about?”
Sympathy flashed over Nick’s face. “I’m sorry, man.”
“Yeah, thanks. I’ll never understand women.”
Nick laughed but with little humor. “I could say the same. There was a time I couldn’t figure your sister out no matter what I did.”
“And now?”
“And now I just nod, smile, and say ‘yes, dear.’ ”
“Brilliant plan,” I said sarcastically. “Thanks for your help. Not sure where to go from here.”
Nick threw his pen onto his desk and leaned back in his chair. “I think you go to George next. This could all be nothing, but it’s worth asking the question. Sometimes having a conversation could open up other, less obvious scenarios.”
“Give me a day. I have to go. I have therapy in an hour.”
“How’s that going?”
I shrugged. “Eh. Some days I leave feeling like a complete loser and others I feel like a fucking boulder has been lifted off my shoulders. It’s exhausting.”
Besides his beliefs that I needed to open up to Maygen, my therapist also believed in exposure therapy. His goal was to have me open up to memories. By trying to quell them, I inadvertently was worsening my PTSD. My fears came through my memories in the form of nightmares. He felt by openly talking about my memories, my fears, even situations that had me feeling overwhelmed I’d be better able to control their effects on my subconscious.
“Dr. Mathews feels I should continue taking my meds, but I adamantly refused. Therapy is a huge step for me, but being in a fog is not the way I want to get through this.”
“I get it. Don’t give up on it, though. Talking to someone will help you.”
“I guess we shall see,” I said, standing to put on my coat. “I’ll talk to you later.”
He nodded and watched as I walked out the door. My thoughts immediately went to Maygen and what this all meant. I knew one thing: I may have decided to let her call the shots with this so-called friendship, but I needed to draw the line on how far I’d be pushed.
Pulling out my phone I texted:
I lied. Not interested in meeting a friend, but would still like to see you tonight.
Chapter 30
Maygen
I thought if I introduced him to someone and pulled him off the market that would settle my internal battle over going back to what we were. If he could move on, well, then I could as well. Apparently I had become a liar through this mess. His refusal to meet my friend Jill had me both sighing with relief as well as cringing from the painful desire that clawed inside me. Spending time with him was a double-edged sword, and I was tired of trying to predict which edge would hurt more…being with him or being apart.
An hour had passed since his last text when my phone suddenly lit up with his number.
“Hi,” I said after debating whether I should ignore his call.
“You got my text?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you mad I said that?”
“No.”
“Good. So, dinner?”
“Sure,” I said with a resigned sigh. “Where do you want to go?”
“How about my place? I’ll cook.”
Red flags immediately sprang up and started flapping wildly in my mind. I’d been to his place since assuming our friendship, but I felt more in control at my apartment. Intentionally placing myself in compromising situations all while fighting my insatiable urge to jump him was weighing on me. I wondered why I was so hell-bent on torturing myself.
I guess his words rang true, but I also preferred to have him in my life as a friend than not at all. And I fully realized I was the reason we couldn’t be more. Our platonic arrangement was getting harder and harder, and my resolve was getting weaker and weaker.
A sexy chuckle filtered over the phone at my silence. “My place it is then. Text me when you’re on your way.” He hung up without waiting for my response.
Over the past few weeks David’s humor, his teasing, even his controlling ways had all slowly resurfaced. When with him I couldn’t fight the constant nagging of how he deceived me. When apart I couldn’t fathom why we weren’t together.
I wondered, if he had told me the truth sooner in our relationship, would I have gotten over his deceit? My heart reminded me we were intimate while he lived his lie. That was the part of me that kept tearing open like an old wound. The bottom line was that his omission of the truth had hit harder and hurt more because by then I was falling for him in every way.
Sure, my attraction toward him hadn’t diminished one iota. In fact, it was hard to be around him at times, especially when we were just relaxing at my place. The way my heart ached for him was hard to ignore. Ditto for the way my head reminded me of his long list of issues. David suffered from severe PTSD. Maybe I was using that as an excuse, but how could I ignore it?
I’d engaged in some serious soul-searching since finding out the truth. What I learned was that I’d been using his betrayal as an excuse. It occurred to me that not only was I afraid of being hurt again, but I was also terrified that I’d end up hurting him in the end. What if I caused more damage to his already compromised psyche?
The baggage he carried and the secrets he kept made him who he was. Everything I knew about him had been fed to me in bits and pieces, and there was probably so much more I didn’t know. How could I trust he wouldn’t keep other things from me under the guise of preserving my safety? I’d had to endure that my entire life. My dad always used the excuse that he did things to protect me. I refused to fall into similar patterns with anyone I ended up with.
But…it was David.
“Damn him,” I thought out loud.
“Damn who?” Betha asked as she walked into my office.
Fuck
.
“Dax,” I lied.
Her eyes raked over me from head to toe before they settled on my face with a disapproving glare. “Okay, enough with this shit.”
“You’re ready to talk about Justin?”
“Uh, no. Justin and I are fine,” she scoffed. “I’m ready to talk about you. You’ve been pussyfooting around here for weeks avoiding me every time I want to chat…and I’ve let you.”
I picked at the salad I was eating, suddenly having lost my appetite. “You let me?”
“Correct. I said to myself, Betha, give her some time. Your time is up, missy.” She reached over and plucked a discarded cucumber from my plastic takeout container. “Who doesn’t like cucumbers?”
“Anyway.”
“Anyway, having survived my rough patch with Justin I learned something about love in the process.”
Suddenly my most unromantic friend on earth was a philosopher of romance? “And what would that be?” Pushing away my lunch, I leaned back in my chair waiting for her revelation.
“You can’t fight it. You can try to run and deny it, but eventually it catches you. Once it does, the only part you can control is whether you curl up in a corner and die or stand toe to toe and dare love to bring it.”
“What are you talking about? Up until a few days ago you argued love wasn’t worth it.” She reached out with her hand again, but instead of stealing a piece of food she pinched my arm really hard. “Ow!”
“That hurt, right?”
“Yes,” I barked while rubbing the skin she assaulted.
“Consider it your wake-up call. Mine was Justin telling me to shit or get off the pot. He said he was sick of my act and either I knocked it off or he was leaving me. His words hurt, but hearing them caused me to think long and hard about our relationship. I had tried to pretend I wasn’t falling in love with him. I lied to myself that I didn’t need him. I was wrong, Maygen. You are also wrong.”
“Betha, please. I’m not going through this again.”
“He hurt you, blah, blah, blah. So? Everyone makes mistakes, Maygen.” She watched me sitting in my chair pathetically attempting to fight my emotions. I dropped my eyes to avoid hers. “I don’t doubt you’re torturing that man. He’s sniffing around you like a puppy looking for a scrap here or a morsel there. It’s really not fair to him.”
With each of her speeches it was harder to pretend her words weren’t hitting home. What was it that I was afraid of?
“Can I ask you something?” She waited until I focused on her face. “Can you picture your life without him?”
No.
I flipped closed my lunch container and threw it in my trash can a bit more forcibly than I needed to. My aggression and my silence couldn’t have made it any more obvious that the truth behind her words was getting through.
“Yep, nice try,” she said before standing. “I’d bet my perfect set of tits that you answered no. It’s time to stop avoiding the inevitable.” Instead of walking out the door, she came around my desk and stood looking down at me. “Maygen, I love you, which is why I need to slap some sense into you.”
My eyes widened as I wondered if she would indeed slap me. “Please don’t.”
“I will if you don’t knock it off. You love him. Stop wasting precious time.”
“I’m scared,” I finally said out loud.
“Of? Getting hurt again?” She took my hand, waiting me out.
“Yes, and of hurting him. He’s a mess and he seems to think I help him in some way. I worry he’s using our connection as a crutch, and if things don’t work out it’ll forever ruin him.”
“Sweetie, you need to stop hiding behind this so-called friendship.”
—
“You don’t have to stay, Arnold. I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be here, Miss Whitney.”
“Please stop calling me that.”
“Sorry, Miss Whitney.”
God, I wanted to throat-punch him. “How about you go grab some dinner and I’ll text you when I’m ready to leave.”
“I’ll be waiting for you right here,” he repeated.
It wasn’t worth arguing with him. I was so sick of arguing with every male in my life. “Whatever,” I said, pouting like a child. Screw him.
David opened the door a second after I knocked. His smile instantly improved my mood. Without a word to Arnold, he took my hand and closed the door with a definitive click and then turned the dead bolt for good measure.
“Not sure that would stop him,” I said with a smirk.
“It’ll slow him down.” His smile widened as he shrugged. “Hi. How was your day?” While waiting for my response he pulled me into his arms in his usual friendly hug.
“It was okay.” I hugged back, wanting so badly to slip my cold hands under his T-shirt to feel his warm skin. Along with that urge, the scent of his cologne predictably helped stir my libido. When he pulled away I got a pungent whiff of something burning. “What’s that smell?”
“Dinner,” he said on a shrug. “Looks like we’ll be ordering in.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the look on his face. “What was it?”
“Roast chicken. Poor thing died an awful second death.” Without asking, he helped to remove my coat and hung it on his rack. His eyes raked over my body, causing goosebumps to appear. David noticed and said, “Sorry. I was trying to air out the place.”
I wasn’t about to admit they weren’t from the temperature in his apartment. I watched as he went to close the two opened windows behind his couch. When he leaned over, my eyes zoned in on the denim that hugged his ass and then to his flexing muscles beneath the fabric of his white T-shirt.
“It should warm up in here soon. Do you want something to drink?”
“Sure, whatever you have is fine.”
The first few minutes were always awkward between us, and this time was no exception. While he walked into his kitchen, I decided to sit on his couch. He emerged with a beer for himself and a glass of wine for me and placed them on the small coffee table.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” The intensity of his stare kick-started my heart to pound frantically in my chest…just another thing that occurred whenever I saw him. “Can I ask you something?”
I nodded, quickly taking a sip of wine to brace myself for what was coming. “What the fuck was that text about today, Maygen?”
“What do you mean?” I played dumb. I should’ve been surprised by his bluntness, but I wasn’t. Embarrassment more than anything else was what caused my cheeks to blush.
“You wanted me to meet a friend? Why?”
“I think you guys would get along great.”
His clenched jaw had me averting my gaze downward. “You really want me to see someone else, Maygen? Would that help you get over me?” His uncanny ability to call me out yet again almost made me angry. He had no right to question my reasoning. Yet, the fact that he did made me fall deeper in love with him. “Would it?” he prodded.
“No.”
“Then why?”
“I don’t know.”
He gripped my chin, forcing my head up to stare directly into my eyes. “Look, I promised I wasn’t going to push you. I can no longer pretend this isn’t killing me. So, can we stop this bullshit? Can we both finally admit this isn’t working?”
“What isn’t working?”
“This friendship…the fact we are fighting this and I have no idea why. I have no fucking clue why we are playing games. I understand I hurt you, and I’ll never be able to undo that, but by now you must know it had nothing to do with your dad hiring me. It had everything to do with wanting to be with you. You can’t possibly still be questioning that.” He placed both hands on my face, pulling me closer than I wanted to be. With only a few inches separating us, with his breath fanning over my parched lips, I couldn’t pretend everything he said wasn’t the absolute truth. “Maygen, when I’m with you the insanity that often consumes me is at rest. The pa
in that has been so real lessens.”
“That’s a huge part of the problem, David. I can’t be your magic elixir. It’s not fair to me.”
“I’m not going to pretend you aren’t saving me in so many ways. I’m also not going to pretend I don’t need you in my life. Why is that so horrible for you to hear?”
“Because it’s the wrong reason to want to be with me.”
He released my face to run his hands over the short hair at the top of his head. “Those are only some of the reasons I want to be with you,” he said, frustration lacing every word. “The most important one is…I…” The look on his face pleaded for something, but I wasn’t sure what he wanted. He was begging in a way I couldn’t handle.
I tried to fight the lump that formed in my throat, the tears that began to well in my eyes. I tried desperately to keep my hands to myself, to stop my heart from jackhammering in my chest, but it was all in vain. With every moment that passed while his eyes bore into mine, the closer I came to jumping into his arms and blurting out the words he struggled to say.
Chapter 31
David
Fuck, why was it so hard for me to get the words out? I scrubbed a hand over my face and said, “Just give me a minute?”
I didn’t expect a response, just as she didn’t expect me to reach over to pull her bottom lip from between her front teeth.
Her pale eyes waited expectantly for me to spit out what I pathetically couldn’t bring myself to say. Since I got her text suggesting she wanted to introduce me to a friend, I’d been consumed with anger. After I had talked it through during therapy, Dr. Mathews said it was time to finally put it out there and tell her exactly what she meant to me.