by Claire Adams
“Hmm, well I always do enjoy a good Hawaiian.”
“Pineapple on pizza, huh?” he said with a grin. “Good choice. I'll go place the order, you see if there's anything worth watching.”
I went back to the living room, but before I sat down on the sofa, I pulled the drapes back a little and peered out of the window, looking across the street at my house. I shuddered, and a cold jolt of fear rippled through me as I thought of what had happened earlier with Simon. That was the closest he had come to physically getting to me in a very long time, and the thought of what he could have done to me had the cops not showed up terrified me.
It also depressed the hell out of me. I had gone through so much trouble to be free of him—uprooting my life, cutting my ties with the past, moving hundreds of miles away, going through all the bureaucratic hassles of legally changing my name and getting a whole set of new official documents. And after all of that, he still found me. What had I done to deserve this? And would I ever, ever be truly free, or would I have to spend the rest of my life running and hiding, looking over my shoulder all the time and sleeping with one eye open?
This last thought was really crushing, and I almost broke down and started weeping right there and then, but I summoned up all the strength and willpower inside of me to do my best to hold everything together. I had to be strong now, not just for me but for Everett. He had an immense amount of pressure on him right now, and he didn't need me to add to all of that.
“Hey,” said Everett, interrupting my thoughts. “The pizza has been ordered. Did you find anything to watch yet?”
“No, to be honest, I haven't even looked at what's available.”
“Ah. Something on your mind?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, since you're standing by the window there looking out, I imagine I know what it is.”
He walked over to me and put his arms around me, giving me a warm, reassuring hug.
“I know that you must be scared. I mean, who wouldn't be?”
“It's not just that,” I said. “It's the fact that... That I'm stuck, that I'm like a prisoner now. I have to look over my shoulder, I have to worry all the time about where he is, whether he's about to pounce. It's horrible Everett, it really is. I can't live like this.”
He squeezed me tightly.
“I know it is, and I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Nobody deserves this, nobody. But rest assured, I won't let that creep get within a hundred yards of you.”
“I know that, but you can't be around me 24-7, Everett. And even if you could, I would want my independence anyway. But that psycho, that evil asshole, he's robbed me of that!”
Again, I felt like crying, but Everett stroked my head gently and hugged me, and I drew strength from him and managed to keep myself together.
“He'll eventually get caught, you know. I don't know how he wiggled his way out of a jail sentence before, but now he's committed a serious crime. Breaking and entering with the intention to do someone harm is not something that the courts will take lightly. And on top of that, he was breaking a restraining order, multiple times – Mrs. Dobbins will surely testify that she's seen him hanging around your house a few times. And he can be tied to the break-in and threatening message left at your daycare. When all of that is added up, he'll be looking at some serious prison time.”
“I just hope they can catch him. I really hope they can.”
“He's going to slip up eventually. They always do.”
“I just hope that it's soon. Like I said, I can't go on like this. I really can't.”
“Come, let's not dwell on this too much. Let's go sit down and scroll through things to watch. It'll be a good distraction to get your mind off all this stuff.”
I nodded and took his hand, and then we went over to the sofa and sat and scrolled through Netflix's offerings.
“Oh, there's that movie The Hurt Locker,” I said as the image for the film came up. “About the war in Iraq. It won a few awards, didn't it?”
A strange expression immediately came over Everett's face. This time, though, I didn't let it slide.
“And I can see that any mention of war makes you clam up and get all weird,” I continued. “You don't have to talk about it if you really don't want to, but... Don't you think that you and I know each other well enough now to talk about this? I mean, how much longer do you intend to keep me in the dark about your past? If we are going to give this a go, don't you think I deserve to know these things?”
Something inside me felt really worked up all of a sudden. Maybe it was all the worry and fear about Simon and everything else that had happened recently coming to a head.
Everett looked at me and sighed. “Yeah. You're absolutely right,” he conceded. “You do deserve to know. Well, here it is – the 'doctor' who helped me, Jimmy, he's a buddy of mine from a very different time. The time when I was a Navy SEAL.”
My eyebrows raised in surprise. I hadn’t seen that coming at all. “Wait, what?! You were a Navy SEAL?”
He nodded. “I was, yeah.”
“Wow. Okay. So many things make sense now.”
“I know. It's pretty crazy when you think about it. I mean, here I am, principal of a high school, it's about the farthest thing from what I used to do that I could imagine.”
“And what made you want to be a Navy SEAL in the first place?” I questioned.
“Well, there was this girl.”
I smiled warmly. “It’s always a girl,” I said trying to lighten the weight of his words.
“Isn’t it?” he said with a slight smile. “Thing is, the relationship we had, it really messed me up. Long story if I were to really get into it, but the short is, she was having a long-term affair behind my back, she was a real piece of work. And when I found out, I just had all this anger and these feelings of betrayal inside that I didn’t know what to do with it all. I had always been someone who had lived for adrenaline rushes, and pushing myself to the absolute limits, so I guess I wanted to do something that would really push me to the absolute limits. And somehow I ended up in a recruiter’s office and eventually signed up to be a Navy SEAL.”
“And then... and then you were sent to Iraq.”
He nodded. “That's right. And I... when I was there, I saw things, things you can't imagine. Things you can’t forget. It's worse than any of these movies show. Way worse. And I lost so many good friends there. Good, good men who died too young, whose lives were cut far too short.”
I squeezed his hand. “I'm happy that you made it back. And I'm sorry you had to go through such a terrible, terrible experience.”
“Thank you,” he said. “You know, no matter how many medals or honors I won for my actions there, it wasn’t enough to mask the experience.”
“You were decorated?”
“Yeah. I keep 'em all in a drawer, hidden away. I moved on from that part of my life, and want to keep it in the past. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing but love for my country and my brothers in arms, but my SEAL days are over.”
“I understand. And I'm sorry if I seemed pushy about it,” I added.
“It's alright. I know why you asked. I shouldn't have kept it from you in the first place.”
“Well, now I know, at least, why you don't want to watch war movies. So, rest assured, I won't be suggesting things like that again anytime soon.”
“Thank you. I'm really glad that you're so understanding about all of this.”
I looked into his eyes and then kissed him slowly and deeply.
“Why wouldn't I be? You've been so very good to me, Everett. I'm so, so grateful to have a man like you in my life. Someone honest, someone good. Everything you've done for me... It really means a lot; it does, trust me on that.”
“Thank you. I really do appreciate that.”
“Well, let's put a movie on then,” I suggested.
“That sounds like a great idea.”
But before we could, Everett's phone started ringing. He looked at it and then t
urned to me.
“Sorry, I have to take this. Bad timing, I know, but it's important.”
“Hi, Ben... uh-huh... Seriously? Right now? Damn, alright... Yeah, I know it's serious. I'll be there right away.”
He put the phone down on the sofa, and I could see from the look on his face that something serious was going on.
“Drug situation,” he said grimly. “I am so sorry, Viv. I have to go, right now. Do you mind keeping an eye on Janie while I’m gone?”
“Of course not. It's alright,” I said. “I know you have to do what you have to do.”
“Where did I put the truck keys,” he said like a rhetorical question. He placed his phone on the sofa next to me, and he got up and hurried to his bedroom to search for the keys.
His phone buzzed as a message came through. I glanced at it, curious, and as my eyes read the first part of the message, which was visible on the screen without me having to unlock the phone or even touch it, nausea started spreading like poison through my veins.
“Hi Everett, it's Liza again. I just wanted to say that I can't stop thinking about how amazing it felt when you put your arms around me this afternoon, and I've been longing for you…”
That was all I could see – but it was all I needed to see. Everett hurried back into the room, now holding the keys to his truck. He grabbed his phone and stuffed it into his pocket without noticing that there was a message on the screen.
He leaned down and kissed me sweetly and warmly. It was very convincing.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said, and he jogged out of the house.
I didn't reply; I simply stared blankly at the door as it closed in his wake and watched as even more pieces of my world began to shatter around me.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Everett
As I jogged out of the house, I couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of emotions. I was kind of annoyed that I had to leave just as I was about to get comfortable and relax with Vivienne. It was an immense relief that I had finally opened up and gotten some things off my chest and told Vivienne the truth about my past. She had handled it with such compassion and care it only reinforced my feelings that she was the right woman for me.
And then, of course, there was the excitement about what Ben had just told me. William Stevens, one of those little punks who had been buying drugs when Kendrick had gotten shot, had been caught trying to sneak back into his house. Weirdly enough, his dad, that slovenly biker with the bad attitude, had been the one who had called us. I guess the news that his kid had been involved in a shooting had forced him to be a bit more proactive in the way he was bringing his son up.
This time, I was more careful than before; I took a semi-automatic Colt .45 pistol with me and made sure I didn't forget my phone this time.
I took my phone out to message Ben and tell him I was leaving and groaned as I saw what was on the screen: another message from Liza. I sighed and opened it.
It read: “Hi Everett, it's Liza again. I just wanted to say that I can't stop thinking about how amazing it felt when you put your arms around me this afternoon, and I've been longing for your touch so badly. I should never have done what I did to you. Losing you remains the greatest regret of my life. I would do anything – just anything – to have you back with me again. Please, please Everett, can't we give it one more go? Can't you give me one more chance? I miss you... I miss us. My desire for you has only increased over all these years that we've been apart. Please, Everett... Give me another chance.”
I had no time to reply to this now. Shaking my head, I sent the message to Ben and then shoved the phone back into my pocket and drove off. With everything else that was going on, any drama with Liza really was the last thing I needed.
I reached the Stevens’ house after about 15 minutes of much too fast driving. Ben was pulling into the driveway ahead of me just as I arrived; the timing couldn't have been more perfect.
“Hey, Ben,” I said as I stepped out.
“Hey, Everett. Sorry to spoil your Sunday evening like this, but I'm sure you know how important this is.”
“I know, Ben, I know. I didn't think we'd be seeing either of these two anytime soon, not since we got word they had gone into hiding in LA.”
“Yeah, we're lucky Mr. Stevens was alert enough to catch him.”
“What was he doing back here anyway?” I asked.
Ben chuckled dryly. “He came back for his iPad.”
I shook my head. “Kids these days and their damn technology. I'm glad I didn’t grow up with this stuff. But hey, I guess we should be grateful the little punk is so addicted to his iPad that he risked his freedom to sneak back here and try to get it.”
“Yeah,” Ben smirked. “Lucky for us, very unlucky for him.”
“Well, let's go on in and give this little criminal a good talking to.”
We headed up to the porch and knocked on the door. After a few moments, Mr. Stevens answered, still dressed in his greasy biker gear, but his time he had with him his son, William. His meaty paw was gripping a fistful of the boy's shirt, and his face was stormy with rage. William, a supposed “tough guy” at school, looked like he had been crying, and even with his steroid-pumped adolescent muscles, he looked like a scared little boy next to his obviously angry father.
“Here's this little punk,” his father growled. “Stupid little turd thought he could climb in through the window after dark and get his damn iPad. I thought he was a damn burglar, nearly took his head off with my shotgun! But when I found out it was him, I gave him a damn good ass-kicking, an ass-kicking that he better damn well remember next time he wants to get involved in whatever gang crap he's gotten himself into. You hear that boy? You try ‘n pull a stunt like this ever again, and I'll break your stupid neck! Now you go talk to these two, and I swear if you lie to them I'm gonna rip your arms outta their sockets. You're cleaning your damn self up after this. I spent time in the damn slammer, I know what it's like in there, and I don't want my boy to see the inside of a prison cell, ever. You hear me?”
“Yes, sir,” William whimpered, the little thug uncharacteristically timid.
“What?!” his father shouted. “I don't hear you, speak louder!”
“Yes... sir,” he said, speaking more forcefully.
“Alright, William,” I said, almost feeling a little sorry for the kid. Almost. “Now listen, kid, we already know you were involved in what happened to Kendrick. And we know you didn't pull the trigger, or instigate it, so you're not going to be in any serious trouble. But we are going to need you to cooperate with us here. There are two sides to this coin, you see; we can either get you off lightly, or we can get you into some very serious trouble. The choice is yours. You can lie and try to wiggle your way out of this, which is most certainly going to result in you getting into a lot of trouble, or you can answer our questions truthfully. If you choose the second option, we'll be able to get you off with a slap on the wrist, really, as long as you also agree to go to rehab. So, what's it gonna be?”
He shifted his feet around and stared at the floor. “I'll tell you the truth,” he answered reluctantly.
“Okay, so yesterday morning you were buying Rocket from a dealer on the JFK High premises, weren't you? You and your friend, right?”
“Yeah... yeah, we were.”
“And can you tell us what happened?” I asked him.
“That kid, Kendrick, he and his buddies were shooting hoops. I guess Kendrick needed to go to the bathroom or something because he stumbled on me and Leon, uh, buying Rocket behind the gym hall.”
“And why were you guys buying the drugs there?” Ben asked. “Why did this happen on a Saturday, on school premises?”
“I guess coz Mr. Mask—”
“Hang on,” I said, interrupting him. “You were buying from Mr. Mask himself?”
“Uh, yeah, we were. His friend, the one we usually bought from, I guess something happened to make him scared because he skipped town, he's gone. Mr
. Mask was selling the stuff himself, at least until he found a replacement for his dealer who ran away. He, uh, he actually offered the job to Leon and me. Said we could start making some real paper doing this, ya know?”
“And you better have said 'no' to that offer, you little punk, or I'll wring that neck a' yours!” his father snarled.
“Relax, relax, we didn't say yes,” William snapped.
“Well, what did you say?” I asked.
William's face reddened a bit, and he looked at the ground.
“Uh, we said, uh, we said we'd think about it,” William responded.
“Why you little—” his father growled as he lunged for his son. I managed to step between them and hold him off. It was a difficult enough job because he was rather large and very strong, not to mention very angry.
“Mr. Stevens,” I said as I struggled to hold him back. “Please, restrain yourself! Your son is cooperating here.”
He stepped back and raised his hands in an “I surrender” gesture, but his eyes were still full of rage and wrath.
“Alright, fine,” he muttered. “Go on, ask the boy what you gotta ask the boy. I'll... try not to kick his ass... I'll try.”
“Okay. Thank you,” I said, turning back to William, who was trembling with fright and staring at his angry father. “You heard him, he's not going to hurt you. Now let's get back to the questions. So, Mr. Mask is dealing now as his former dealer skipped town?”
“That's right, Mr. James.”
I turned to Ben and whispered, “That must be the guy we saw in the apartment building.”
He nodded. “It's gotta be him. So, now that he's out of the picture, it could just be Mr. Mask operating on his own for a while.”
“That might make him easier to catch,” I said. “But it also might make him a lot more dangerous – a cornered criminal is much more prone to acts of deadly violence.”