by Naomi Niles
Still, I felt as though he should have handled the situation better. The thought of him actually shooting my brother flashed in my mind, and I shuddered again. “It didn’t happen,” I reminded myself as Polo followed me into my empty bedroom.
I started pacing frantically, waiting for my thoughts to calm down. Victor would be back. He had come here under Kameron’s orders, so I knew he wouldn’t give up so easily. He worshipped Kameron; he attributed his so-called success in life to Kameron’s presence.
But apart from that, I also knew that my brother was scared of Kameron. He would be terrified to go back empty handed and fear was a highly motivating factor. I knew he wouldn’t be easily dissuaded.
I stared at the walls of my new home and realized suddenly that I didn’t feel safe there anymore. I felt suddenly insecure and extremely vulnerable. I just wanted to get out of there and find a fresh place to stay, for a short time, at least. I glanced out the window at Peter’s home and I knew I couldn’t go there, especially after I had just kicked him out for trying to help me.
I looked down at Polo. “What do you think, boy?” I asked. “Where shall we go?”
Polo gave me a curious glance. “I don’t have the money for a hotel. Hell, I don’t even have the money for a motel. Where do we go?”
The question made my heart plummet a little and I felt disillusioned and completely dejected. Maybe I had been an idiot for leaving. Kameron had warned me beforehand that he would track me down if I ever left. Maybe I just had to resign myself to the fact that I had to go back. I grabbed my phone and scrolled down to Kameron’s name on my conversation list.
He hadn’t written anything more to me since his threatening text on the first day that I’d arrived in Fort Collins. Now I understood why: he had sent his lap dog to do his bidding. I started typing slowly.
“Kameron,” I started. “I’m coming home…just please…”
Please what? Even I didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Just please don’t kill me? Please don’t punish me? Please don’t hurt me anymore? Please don’t make the rest of my life miserable.
“The rest of my life,” I said aloud the moment that thought furled through my head. “If I go back, I’ll have to stay the rest of my life.”
Polo’s eyes were staring me in the face, and I realized that if I went back, I wouldn’t take him with me. I would have to find him another home, a good home, with people who would take care of him. Kameron had never been an animal lover; he saw them as objects that he could play with. But then, he saw people that way, too.
I knelt down again and cupped Polo’s head in my hands. “I’d have to say goodbye to you, boy,” I said, looking into those kind, intelligent eyes.
Polo whined as though he knew exactly what I was saying to him. That sound was like a knife through my heart and I knew I couldn’t send that message. I wasn’t going to lie down and roll over – not this time. I was going to fight like hell to take back my own life, and no one ever said that would be easy. I turned to the conversation box and deleted my message. Then I searched for another number and hit call.
“Hello?” Whitney’s voice was cheery as usual.
“Whitney,” I said. “It’s me, Madison.”
“Oh, hi, Madison,” she greeted. “What’s up?”
“Umm…it’s complicated,” I said. “I need a place to crash for a few days.”
There was a split second of silence on the other line. “Come right on over,” she said, without any questions.
“Thank you,” I sighed gratefully. “Thank you so much.”
“I’ll text you my address.”
After I had hung up with Whitney, I tossed some clothes into an overnight bag, grabbed Polo’s food bowl off the floor, and headed for the SUV with Polo in tow. As I loaded up, I glanced over at Peter’s house. There was no sign of him anywhere and that was just as well. I didn’t want to have to talk to him just yet.
It took me about fifteen minutes to get to Whitney’s house and when I did, a cloud of relief fell over me.
Whitney lived in a small apartment complex that was about ten minutes from her salon. She met me at the entrance to the building and walked me up.
“Are you okay?” she asked, as we took the elevator up to the fourth floor.
“Not really,” I said, not wanting to lie to her.
“Would you like to talk about it?” Her tone was one of concern; she obviously knew I was upset about something and she was being respectful of that.
“Actually, yes,” I nodded, as we walked into her little apartment.
“It’s nothing much,” she said. “I only have one bedroom so the only thing I can offer you is the couch. But it’s comfy.”
“It’s more than enough,” I told her. “Thanks for letting me crash here, Whitney. I really appreciate it.”
“Hey, don’t mention it,” she said. “What are friends-slash-bosses for?”
I smiled as Whitney gestured for me to take a seat. A moment later, she joined me on the couch with a glass of cold water. “Here,” she said. “Drink.”
I sipped the water as Whitney leaned down and stroked Polo. “He’s a cutie,” she said, smiling at him.
“I found him in a shelter,” I said. “And, I couldn’t walk away.”
“I don’t blame you,” Whitney replied. “I’d love a dog, too, but sadly, this apartment building doesn’t allow pets.”
“Oh God,” I said. “Will you get into trouble for hosting us here?”
“Don’t worry,” she said, giving me a wink. “The president of the board has a soft spot for me. In any case, we can hide Polo’s presence for a few days. It won’t be a problem, trust me.”
I nodded and leaned back against the sofa. Whitney was right. It was comfy. After a moment, I realized that she was watching me curiously. I knew that she wanted to know why I had come and at the same time she didn’t want to pry at a sensitive time. I figured I owed her an explanation and reasoned that talking might actually do me some good.
“Remember I told you about my brother?” I asked.
“Of course,” Whitney nodded. “Victor, right?”
“Right,” I confirmed. “Remember I told you about the argument we’d had and all the questionable choices he’d made?”
“Yes.”
“Well, one of those questionable choices was taking and dealing drugs.”
Whitney’s eyebrows rose. “He’s a…drug dealer?”
“Yes,” I nodded. “He works under this one guy called Kameron. Kameron runs a pretty successful operation, and it’s grown significantly over the last few years. He runs a tight ship and he has a number of guys working under him, pushing dugs on the streets.”
“Let me guess?” she said. “Kameron’s is refusing to let your brother out?”
“Not quite,” I said. “He’s refusing to let me out.”
Whitney wrinkled her eyes at me for a moment and then they went wide with shock. “Are you telling me you’re a drug dealer, too?”
“No,” I said quickly. “No, I’m not a drug dealer. But I am… I mean, I was… Kameron’s girlfriend.”
Whitney was shocked into silence for a moment. “Oh my God,” she said finally.
“Yeah,” I sighed.
“That’s why your move to Fort Collins was sudden,” she said. “You were running from him.”
“I knew he wouldn’t just let me leave,” I said. “He’s just not that kind of guy. But I was a fool. I was completely naïve. My brother still works for him – there’s no hope for me as long as Victor is tied to Kameron.”
“What happened, Madison?”
“Victor found me,” I said. “He’s here on Kameron’s orders.”
“He wants to take you back?”
“Yes,” I nodded.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “Was this the reason behind your fight the other day?”
“Yes,” I nodded. “He called to try and convince me to come back. I just… I couldn’t believe what he was asking
of me. Kameron is a psychopath and if I go back to him, I can kiss my freedom goodbye.”
“You can’t go back,” Whitney said with finality.
“I know that,” I said.
“What happened after you spoke to Victor? How did you get him to leave?”
“I didn’t,” I replied. “Peter did.”
“Peter,” she repeated. “Of course.”
“It was messy,” I groaned. “Victor and I got into it, and Peter walked in at the wrong moment. He saw Victor grab me and went completely ballistic. They fought and then… Peter pulled a gun on Victor.”
“Fuck!”
“It freaked the hell out of me,” I sighed. “After Victor skulked off, I asked Peter to leave, too.”
“You’re upset with him?” Whitney guessed.
“I just… Victor’s still my brother,” I said. “I may not approve of his life choices or his treatment of me, but that doesn’t mean I want to see a gun pointed at his face. I love him, no matter what.”
“Peter was just trying to protect you, Madison,” Whitney said gently. “He didn’t know Victor was your brother, did he?”
“No, he didn’t,” I acknowledged.
“What would you have done in his place?”
I sighed. “I know,” I said. “I know he didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just…”
“You got scared,” she said for me. “I get it.”
“You’re a good friend, Whitney,” I said. “Thanks so much for letting me stay here.”
“Think nothing of it,” she said immediately. “You can stay for as long as you like, Madison. I mean it.”
“That’s really nice of you,” I smiled. “But I just need a few days…just a few days to get my bearings. Then I’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure?” Whitney asked with concern.
I sighed. “I have to be.”
Chapter Nineteen
Peter
“Damn it,” I cursed, as I grabbed the tray from the oven.
The crusty biscuits I had made as an accompaniment to dinner were slightly burnt at the top. I had made them ten times over and this was the first time I’d ever burnt a batch. “Fuck!” I said, trying to fluff out the burnt smell in the room by flapping my arms around.
Frustrated, I checked the béchamel sauce that was going to go over the lasagna, but it was thicker than it needed to be. I sighed, feeling my mood take a downward spiral.
The sound of tire tracks outside alerted me to the fact that someone was here. It was either Sam or John, and I welcomed their presence. I badly wanted to get my mind off of what had happened with Madison days ago.
I had seen no sign of her since that night. She hadn’t called or texted, and I didn’t want to piss her off further by attempting contact. If I were being completely honest, I was a little annoyed myself. What had she expected me to do? Stand back and watch some guy manhandle her… even if it had been her brother?
Every time I thought about Victor, my blood boiled. What kind of brother tried to drag his sister back to an abusive relationship? In my opinion, he was as bad as Kameron.
“Whoa… What’s happening in here?” John asked, as he walked into the kitchen wrinkling his nose. “Did you burn something?”
“What gave it away?” I asked sarcastically.
“Well, hello to you, too,” he said, raising his eyebrows.
“Sorry,” I sighed. “It’s been a long few days. How was your Malibu trip?”
“Great actually,” he replied. “The surgery went very well. Mrs. Lewinsky was thrilled with the work.”
“What did she want?” I asked. “New breasts?”
“She’s already had them done,” John replied jokingly. “This was about her daughter. She was in a boating accident a few months ago and one side of her face needed some work.”
“And, you fixed her?”
“I did.” I could hear the little note of pride in his voice.
I usually loved hearing about his work, but today, I was too distracted to pay complete attention. John seemed to realize that because he fell silent for a moment. “Would you like some help?” he asked.
“Sure,” I nodded. “Maybe toss the carrots through that glaze over there.”
He got to work as I tried to salvage what remained of my meal. A few minutes later, we heard Sam arrive. “Excellent,” John said, looking up. “We can have dinner soon.”
Sam appeared at the doorway to the kitchen with a huge smile on his face. His arms were outstretched and he looked like he had something to say.
“What’s the matter with you?” John asked.
“I have a special surprise for you ladies,” he said.
“I’ll pass,” John said, turning away from him.
I laughed. “What is it, Sam?”
“I have brought you a guest,” he said. “Actually, I’ve brought you two guests.”
John and I exchanged a glance. “We don’t know anyone.”
“You should know these two,” Sam said, with a smile. “Especially considering they’re celebrities.”
“Wait…”
“Introducing Olympic gold medalists Alan Burbank and Jessica Winters!” Sam yelled dramatically.
A moment later, Alan and Jessica stepped through the door, and John and I descended into cheers. “What are you guys doing here?” John yelled, as he grabbed Alan and gave him a massive hug.
“Jessica,” I greeted. “It’s amazing to see you.”
She was smiling ear to ear, obviously amused by Sam’s theatrics and our reaction to their arrival. She was a pretty girl. It was amazing how closely she matched my brother. Her light hair was a perfect complement to Alan’s dark mane and her light-green eyes set a stark contrast to Alan’s dark-blue ones.
“Peter,” Jessica said fondly as she embraced me. “It’s so good to see you. Alan’s been missing you boys.”
“We miss him, too,” I assured her, as I turned to Alan. “You look good, bro.”
“Thanks,” he laughed. “I was about to say the same about you. Looks like you’re fully recovered?”
“Please,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “He was ready to go back to work weeks ago. He’s just being a slacker and hanging around the house because… Well, he’s a slacker.”
We laughed at Sam’s failed attempt at an insult. “Wait,” he said quickly. “I’ve got another one!”
“Give it up, buddy,” Alan said, punching him lightly on the arm. “You lost this one.”
“Do I smell something burning?” Jessica asked, sniffing at the air.
Sam looked at me in surprise. “Did you actually burn something?”
“Why is everyone so shocked?” I asked. “I can make mistakes when I cook.”
“Umm…you never have, though,” Alan pointed.
“I’m just having an off day,” I said. “Bad time to have one, though, especially considering our guests of honor.”
“I think that means I’m the favorite brother,” Alan said, shooting a wink at John and Sam.
“He’s just sucking up to you because he thinks you’ve bought gifts,” Sam said. “Which he hasn’t, by the way, so maybe he doesn’t deserve a Grade A meal.”
“Well, Alan may not have brought gifts,” Jessica said. “But I certainly did.”
“You did?” Alan asked, turning to Jessica in surprise.
“Yup,” Jessica nodded with a smile.
“You didn’t mention it to me.”
“Because I didn’t want you taking the credit,” Jessica smiled, giving Alan a wink. She proceeded to reach into her handbag and pull out a bunch of chocolate delicacies. “I hope you guys like your sugar.”
“All us Burbank boys do!” Sam quipped, stretching out his hands for the chocolate.
Fifteen minutes later, we settled down at the table to a big family meal. My mood had not improved significantly, but I was able to put the last few days with Madison out of my head.
“How are your parents, Jessica?” John asked.
“Great,” she nodded. “We had lunch with them over the weekend. I actually think Dad’s beginning to warm to Alan.”
We burst into laughter, amused at the thought of Alan having to win over his girlfriend’s father. Alan had his arm wrapped around Jessica and turned to her with some satisfaction. “You know, he was actually telling me about one of his cases,” he said. “Forget warming up to me, I think he actually likes me.”
“Aw, my darling,” Jessica laughed, shaking her head. “I think that’s overstating it a little.”
Alan looked dumbfounded as the table erupted into laughter again. “What do you mean?”
“You’re the man living with his only daughter,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t think he’ll ever like you. I think the most you can hope for is tolerance.”
“What about that gift I got him?”
Jessica gave him an apologetic look. “He gifted it to one of his younger law associates.”
“What?”
Sam actually banged the table with his fist. “This is so good,” he screamed. “I wish I could see you with Jess’s father.”
“Urgh,” Alan said, shaking his head. Then he turned to Jessica again. “Your mother likes me, though, right?”
“Mom loves you,” Jessica assured him. “You’re like the son she never wanted.”
Alan shot her a look, but then his face softened into a smile and he kissed her gently on the cheek. I saw the way he looked at her and it was amazing to me how different he seemed. He was more settled, more content, and much more satisfied.
After dinner, Sam, John, and Jessica decided to wash up in the kitchen while Alan and I walked out onto the porch for a brother-to-brother chat.
“How are you, Alan?” I asked, the moment we were alone.
“Honestly? I’m great,” he replied. “Amazing, actually.”
“It certainly seems that way.”
“Jessica’s made all the difference in my life,” he said. “It’s amazing that I ever thought being single was a good thing.”
“You were the ultimate single man,” I reminded him. “How many girlfriends did you go through?”
“A lot,” Alan admitted. “But I had it all wrong. I thought that flitting from one woman to another was the dream.”