I ran back to my room. This house was just a holding cell of loss now; I couldn’t stay here anymore. I’d have to force myself to accept that I suffered enough.
I needed to accomplish so much before I went back to Chicago, but my departure would be nothing like my arrival. I would leave on my own terms.
I jumped into the shower before the water had a chance to warm. I shivered my way through washing my hair and was in such a rush to get on with things that I almost forgot to rinse it. Once dressed, I pulled my hair into a wet ponytail and crammed my belongings into my suitcase. I had to sit on it to get it to close. Then I lugged it down the stairs and out to the garage.
Connor’s car was full. The backseat and trunk were packed with the boxes of his belongings I intended to donate to various charities. The few things I couldn’t bear to part with were in a tote box on the front passenger seat. I’d planned to drop it off at my parents’ place last night, but I’d been exhausted after my visit to the cemetery.
I took a deep breath, willing myself not to break down, and took my suitcase back inside. I left it in the kitchen and grabbed my purse.
On my way out of the garage, I almost took off the passengerside mirror. At least I’d managed to leave before Trey showed up. If I was lucky, I’d be able to avoid another confrontation.
I made it to my parents’ house in record time and carted the tote inside. My plan was to dump it in my old bedroom closet and deal with it later, whenever I felt capable of returning. The house was as cool inside as it was outside, so I dropped the tote in the hall and went down to the basement. The pilot light in the furnace had gone out. That wasn’t the real problem, though; it was the burst pipe and the slick of ice pooled on the floor. I’d have to call in a plumber. It was barely seven in the morning, though, and I didn’t have a phone. Nothing would be open until nine and I didn’t have that kind of time.
I pressed my palms against my eyes, weighing my options. Arden Hills was a small town. I knew lots of people whose doors I could knock on, even at this early hour. I left the house and drove to Lake Johanna. One of my dad’s old friends lived out there; he’d be able to help me. The farmhouse was as I remembered it, except the paint was faded by the sun and the porch worn down by time. The inhabitants were the same.
They invited me in, made me breakfast, and talked about the farm and their eight grandchildren as we ate. I sat there, smiling and nodding, because he’d agreed to drive out to my parents’ house and fix the pipes.
My next stop was the Apple store at the Rosedale Center just outside town. Everything was going fine until I tried to pay. My Visa was declined. So was my MasterCard. I had to use the phone in the store to call the bank. My accounts had been frozen first thing this morning. Trey had to be involved; it was the only explanation.
I called my lawyer, Frank, then spent the next two hours at the bank, sorting things out. Trey had given himself signing authority over my account after he’d illegally forced me into signing the power-of-attorney papers. I was fortunate he hadn’t drained the account, and that this wasn’t the one with the bulk of my money. Eventually Frank worked things out, but no one could find Trey, which meant he had to know about the house sale by now.
I lost it when I got back in the car. It took me another twenty minutes to get myself under control before I could return to the Apple store to get my new phone.
Once I had it, the first thing I did was call Hayden. He still wasn’t answering. I retried at every stoplight.
It was four in the afternoon by the time I finished dropping off Connor’s effects at the Salvation Army. Snow had started falling earlier, and the daylight had faded to dark gray by the time I returned to what would soon become Weston’s house. My tires squeaked over the blanket of white as I pulled up to the front door.
Before I went inside, I called Frank to make sure the keys were ready to be passed over. He assured me everything was in order and promised to let me know when the key drop was official. They still hadn’t found Trey, which was worrisome, but at least his car wasn’t in the driveway. He’d left several messages on my phone but I hadn’t checked them, knowing it wouldn’t be anything I’d want to hear. I kept the car idling in the driveway since I only needed to leave my key on the kitchen table and grab my suitcase. I couldn’t wait to go home.
I turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open. The waning sun left the main floor in gray, looming shadows. I flicked on the light and stopped short. Trey sat at the kitchen table, hands clasped on top of a stack of papers, as still as a lake at dawn.
“I didn’t see your car.”
His face was like stone, betraying no emotion. He didn’t look at me when he replied, “I parked in the garage.”
He wore a suit, but he was utterly disheveled, his tie loose, the top buttons of his shirt undone, the collar askew. Stubble covered his chin and cheeks; his hair stuck straight up at the front; and the circles under his eyes were rimmed in red.
My suitcase sat where I had left it, halfway between him and me. He swept a hand toward the bag. “Going somewhere?”
“I’m heading home,” I said, my voice amazingly steady.
“To your parents’ house?” His hand returned to the tabletop, smoothing over the glass surface.
“No.”
“No?” He cocked his head to the side. “You’ve decided to stay at the main house, then?” Trey had moved there after the death of his family and had tried to make me stay there with him when I first returned. It lasted three days before I got out from under his thumb and the constant stream of antianxiety medication he snuck into my food.
“No, Trey. I’m going home. To Chicago.”
“Back to the degenerate. How lovely.” He smiled with malice.
I took a step closer to my bag. The fifteen feet of tile floor between me and it seemed like miles. I didn’t want to get any closer to Trey than I already was. A seething undercurrent of fury lurked beneath his veneer of calm.
“I should give you some credit—you’re smarter than I thought.” With a sweep of his hand, he spread the stack of papers out like a card dealer. “I see you managed to have the power of attorney reversed.”
My heart kicked in my chest. I’d hoped to be gone long before the papers for the house reached him. “I did what I had to do.”
“I’m sure. But did you think I wouldn’t find out before you left?” His voice rose, gaining momentum and volume until it was a yell. “That you could go behind my back and give the fucking house away and then run again?”
In one swift move, his chair screeched across the tile floor and he upended the table. The papers flew into the air and rained down, red ink and yellow highlighter flashing amid the white. The table landed on its side, the tempered-glass top shattering into a wave of sparkles. Trey stepped through the debris, glass crunching under his soles, hands cranked into fists as he stalked toward me. “I was still able to have your accounts frozen. I’m sure that made your escape a bit more of a challenge.”
“The problem is fixed now.” I stood my ground, though all I wanted to do was bolt.
He stopped right in front of me, his expression still flat. “I will undo this.”
“You can’t, Trey. It’s out of your control. I won’t give you the house so that you can destroy it. Your father wouldn’t have wanted that.”
“My father is dead. What he wanted doesn’t matter.”
“To me it does. I’m done here, Trey. I won’t allow you to tear me down anymore.”
I turned away; nothing good would come of this conversation. When he grabbed me, I wrenched my arm away. He came at me again and I pulled my sleeve up to my forearm, exposing the bruises he’d created during our last altercation.
“I’d advise you to keep your hands to yourself, Trey. I’ve already documented these with my lawyer.”
“I-I didn’t—”
“Weston will have the keys to the house shortly. I’m guessing you won’t try to bully him the way you’ve bullied me.
But if you feel physical coercion is necessary, at least he’s on a more level playing field. Good-bye.” I stepped around Trey, grabbed my bag with a trembling hand, and wheeled it to the door.
Trey recovered from the shock of seeing the damage his temper had done, his response scathing. “You don’t think I’ll permit you to take Connor’s car, do you?”
“I don’t need your permission. Connor’s car is mine now.”
There was nothing else he could take from me. The thing he wanted had been signed over to his cousin; Frank had made sure the agreement was airtight. Trey’s hands were tied and if he’d been through the documentation, he knew it.
I opened the door, ready to leave this all behind me.
“I never should have let you leave in the first place,” he said.
As if the choice had been his to make? I turned, the icy wind prickling the back of my neck. “What did you say?”
“You should have been mine,” he said bitterly.
Trey had always been callous, unrepentant for the hurt he inflicted on others. But in that moment the façade dropped and I saw someone crippled by narcissism.
“Is that what you thought would happen when you brought me back here?”
“I took care of you, and now you’re leaving me with nothing. You owe me.”
As though I were a possession to be passed along.
I left without another word. There was nothing to say.
5
TENLEY
About ten minutes later, Weston called and I pulled over. The keys had changed hands. Only then did I realize I still had my set, and Trey still had his.
“Don’t worry about it,” Weston said. “I’m having the locks changed this evening. With Trey you always have to stay one step ahead.”
“I was never very good at that.”
“Oh, I think you were better at it than you know. And you’re always welcome to visit. All you have to do is call.”
“Thanks, Weston.”
“Take care of yourself, okay?”
“I will. You, too.”
I stopped at a gas station about three hours into the drive. I was halfway to Chicago and utterly famished. For the first time in weeks, I actually had an appetite. I bought a huge bag of chips, a monster chocolate bar, and a Coke.
I called Sarah after I gassed up to let her know I was on my way back, but she didn’t pick up, so I left a voice mail and sent a text as backup. I’d given her my apartment key so she could feed TK.
I considered my options as I continued home. Hayden had a key, but he wasn’t answering my calls, so that ruled him out. Besides, a conversation was waiting to happen when I saw him, and showing up in the middle of the night wouldn’t make that discussion any easier. The possibility that I might not be able to right my wrongs terrified me.
Three hours later I stood outside my apartment building, buzzed Sarah, and prayed she was home, even though her car wasn’t parked in her spot. There was no response to my buzz. Maybe she was at work. I went back to Connor’s car and resignedly punched The Dollhouse into the GPS. I wanted to be home, and I wanted to see TK. If I couldn’t have Hayden tonight, at least I could have her.
Fifteen minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot of the strip club. I called Sarah again but still got no answer, which made sense if she was waitressing. Parking in a well-lit area, I grabbed my purse and locked the car. The building was painted black, garish lights flashed out the name of the club, and a neon light showed a half-naked woman bending, standing, bending, standing, as she flickered on and off, her bare ass on display with each flip of her skirt.
I couldn’t believe Sarah worked here. But if it paid for her MBA and left her debt free after college, I could see the logic.
I headed for the entrance, a bit nervous. I scanned the lot, searching for Sarah’s car, but couldn’t locate it. The staff might have separate parking, though; safer for the girls who worked there. A huge man with arms the size of my waist guarded the front door. He looked me over in a way that made me feel naked even with my hoodie. I wished I had my jacket on.
“ID.” He held out a meaty palm.
I rooted around in my bag for my wallet and pulled out my driver’s license. He scanned it, looked at my face, then handed it back to me. “Where’s your escort?”
“Pardon?”
“Your escort,” he said, annoyed. “You need a male escort to come in here.”
“Oh, I—” I chewed my lip, unsure how to proceed. “I have a friend who works here, her name is Sarah.”
“Sarah, huh? So you’re looking for a job?” He smiled wryly. “You’re a little skinny, but that porcelain-doll thing might work for you.”
He opened the door and grabbed the arm of a scantily clad woman who passed by. “This one’s looking for a job. Take her to the boss lady.”
The woman looked at me, laughed, and turned back to him. “Are you serious?”
“Says she knows Sarah.”
I thought to correct him, but if it got me in, I’d take it. All I needed was to get my key and I’d be on my way.
She gave me a doubtful look and turned back to the bouncer. “You’re wasting everyone’s time. She wouldn’t last a shift.” With a look of exasperation, she motioned for me to follow her.
I trailed behind her as we skirted the perimeter of the club, taking in all the men in business suits, seated close to the main stage. Toward the back of the club were two smaller stages, cordoned off with red-velvet rope. On either side were plush couches where men in suits lounged while dancers writhed in their laps.
I didn’t want to think about Hayden with his hands all over any of these women, or vice versa. I wondered if money had ever been exchanged on his part. The thought sickened me.
“So you know Sarah?” she asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Yeah.”
“You tell that bitch she needs to stay away from my clients.” She flipped her bleached hair over her shoulder. “Otherwise I’m going to mess up that pretty face of hers. Wait here,” she ordered.
“Is she work—”
She slipped through a door guarded by another heavily muscled man before I could finish the sentence.
“Hey,” I shouted to him over the pounding music, my uneasy feeling growing. “I’m looking for my friend Sarah. She works here.”
He tapped his ear and mouthed, “I can’t hear you.” Then he went back to staring menacingly at the crowd.
Frustrated, I turned to look for her. The interior of the club was painted midnight black, casting shadows over the clientele. I searched for Sarah’s almost-white blond hair, but couldn’t locate her through the flicker of strobe lights. Tables full of men watched a naked woman gyrating on a pole, their eyes straying only when a mostly undressed waitress passed by. I hated that my friend waitressed here, and that Hayden had once been immersed in this lifestyle.
The door beside the bouncer slammed opened and Sienna appeared in all her red-patent-leather glory. The dress she wore was suctioned to her body. Her fake breasts were pushed up so high they looked like flesh-colored grapes ready to burst. Marks were on her arms, as if someone had been holding on to her hard, and one of her cheeks was bright red. A man dressed just like the one guarding the door came out behind her, adjusting his belt.
She snapped at the security guard, clearly put out. He motioned to the front; I saw Sarah’s name form on his lips; then he gestured to me. Sienna glanced at me and hatred flashed across her face, before she recovered her composure and a grin distorted her mouth.
I was confused. Hayden had said Sienna used to dance here. But as I saw the way everyone deferred to her, I realized he’d failed to fill in the rest of the blanks. Despite what her state of undress suggested, Sienna wasn’t a stripper anymore; she was in charge of this club. And I was in a bad spot.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” she purred. She sauntered over to the bar and leaned on the brass rail, eyes fixed on me. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m
looking for—”
Her fake smile dropped and she cut me off. “Oh, I know exactly who you’re looking for. I told Hayden he’d get bored. I told him you wouldn’t be able to handle him, and he didn’t listen.” She towered over me in her absurd heels. “He’s so fucking pathetic. Always thinking he can be better than he is, but we both know that isn’t true—don’t we?”
“I-I don’t—” I was stunned. He’d told me that his life was different, that he was different, prior to me, but I hadn’t imagined anything like this.
“I-I don’t. I-I,” she mocked. “You’re a waste of his time. Did you come here thinking I might give you some pointers on how to keep him interested?” She sounded bitter. “I can save you the trouble, sweetheart. There’s nothing you can do. Hayden likes to keep his options open. He’ll never be satisfied with you; it’s just a matter of time before he comes running back to me.”
It had been a long, difficult day and my nerves were already frayed. This was not what I needed. If I let my emotions get the better of me in front of her, I was liable to lose it.
“I shouldn’t have come here,” I said, backing up. “I’ll go.”
Sienna stepped to the side, trapping me between the bar and the wall. “You sure you don’t want to have a look around? See what it’s going to take to keep him for a while longer?”
“I should just leave.” I swallowed hard as she came closer, penning me in.
She tilted her head to the side. “I don’t get it. What does he see in you? Look at you.” She picked up my ponytail and wrinkled her nose, then dragged a fake nail down my cheek.
I jerked my head away. “Don’t touch me.”
She caught me by the chin, holding on hard. We were in the shadows, covered by her entourage of security. She leaned in close, her mouth beside my ear. “You think you know Hayden, but you don’t. When I discovered him, he was busy fucking his way through the girls in this club. Everybody wanted him and I was the only one he came back to, over and over again. I gave him what he needed, any way he needed it. You know what’s going to happen when you can’t keep up? He’s going to come back to me. He always does.”
Inked Armor Page 5