We run across the street to my car parked in the restaurant parking lot, and I start the car, hastily needing to get to Veronica. The entire car ride Jake doesn’t make one gesture. He simply stares out the window. He is suddenly a part of a very screwed up family. I can’t imagine what is going through his mind. As we drive up to his apartment, it is hard not to notice the long line of vans, all with logos of different news stations. On the sidewalk are even more reporters, cameramen, and women all waiting to get the right shot. All of them waiting to hound us about this breaking story. They don’t seem to care that we are real people who are hurting or who recently had their lives turned upside down. No, these reporters are out for blood. I see Jake reach to his phone and text his mother.
He signs, “She’s freaking out in there, Evie, I need to go and get her. I can’t leave her in there.”
I nod. As angry and hurt as Jake is feeling, it isn’t in his nature to leave her behind.
“I’ll be okay. I will stop the car. You get out,” I sign.
Jake motions for me to go around the block then pick them up.
I let go of the wheel for a minute driving with my upper thighs. “You sure?”
He nods, and I slow the car to a stop in front of his apartment. Jake gets out of the car swiftly and runs to his front door. Initially, nothing happens. The reporters don’t move but then it is like one reporter catches on to who he is, and he is swarmed. My heart beats rapidly in my chest terrified at the thought of how he feels being swarmed like that, but Jake is tough, he lifts a hand blocking them and uses his key to go straight through the front door. It doesn’t look like anyone follows him in. I let out the breath I was holding and press the gas pedal as their attention turns to me. My adrenaline spikes and I feel fidgety driving around the corner. How will I stop the car to get Jake and Veronica? What if they swarm the car? I know they will. When I go around the bend, I hit a red light and text Colton quickly.
Colton, please call me. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but whatever the media is saying about me is untrue. I never wanted to hurt you.
I press send. Colton hates me. I feel it in my guts. He truly despises me. He isn’t going to make contact. By the time I come back around the bend, Jake and Veronica are on the sidewalk. Jake has his arms draped around his mother in a protective stance. As I reach them, I slow the car, and they walk toward the street. There are so many flashes of light, so many reporters, their mouths moving a mile a minute with questions. My heart beats rapidly in my chest overwhelming me and making it hard to breathe. Jake gets in the front seat. His mother in the back. He signs for me to drive, but I feel frozen.
Veronica taps my shoulder and takes me by the chin so I’d look her in the eyes, eyes that now remind me of Colton and Carter. “Evie, honey, you need to drive. If they figured out where Jake lives they may have also figured out where Carter goes to school. We have to get Carter.” At her last words, my panic turns into the need to protect my son, and I gun the gas pedal a little too hard. The reporters back up, and I fear hitting one of them. Oh goodness. My boy, my poor boy. I feel responsible for this whole mess even though I know on a deeper level that this mess was made long before I came into the picture. Yet, it was my relationship with Colton that caused the past to resurface. I don’t know if we are being followed and I keep looking in my rearview mirror to make sure that we aren’t. I am not a professional at gauging any of this.
My phone buzzes with a message from Al. I wasn’t even aware he had my number.
Evie meet me at the corner of W. Roosevelt Rd. and the 90.
We stop at a red light, and I answer. I have no time to meet with Al right now.
No!
You are going to need my help to escape the press. Please.
Did Colton ask you to do this?
Jake nudges me to drive as the light turns green. He looks frustrated with my texting , but I have to know that Colton didn’t completely write me off. I have to know that I still meant something to him. As I press the gas pedal, I see Al’s answer.
Yes. Part of his security detail has been assigned to you until things cool down. He’s also booked you, Carter, Veronica, and Jake into a hotel so the press can’t find you.
Jake nudges me again. I am causing a traffic jam. I’m sure more than one car is honking at me. We aren’t far from the Loop. It would be safer to pick up Carter if we had security with us.
“What are you doing?” Jake signs.
“Just trust me,” I sign back. I realize my words burn. I kept his mother’s secret from him. He was hurt by me, and yet he nods his head, allowing me to do what I think is best. It gives me some relief that he still has faith in me, that our friendship isn’t completely ruined. As I drive down the streets, I realize that I am supposed to be back at school. At the red light, I sign to Jake to make contact letting them know I can’t go back to school.
I pull up to W. Roosevelt Rd. and spot Al on the corner. He looks so out of place in his dark overcoat. He is tall, a little taller than Colton and just as broad with light blue eyes and dirty blond hair. I have watched Colton speak to Al on the phone a number of times, and I gathered that Al is quite the lady’s man. It always makes me curious if Colton was the same way even though I already know he had been before me. I only fear that he will revert to his old ways.
Al gets in the back seat of my car. I think he is speaking, but I’m not sure. I spot Veronica talking to him in the rearview mirror. Then she gets Jake’s attention and signs to him. Jake signs to me to pull into an underground garage. From there they tell me where to park my car. Not even a moment after my car is parked, a black SUV arrives to pick us up. It is the same kind of car that Colton used on occasion. I hold my breath, hoping to see Colton’s beautiful smile waiting for me when I open the back door. But the car is empty. I should have known better. Colton is helping us because he is a good man, but he and I are done. I feel the loss in the deep crevices of my heart.
Al waves to me to get my attention. “This man will take you to get your son. Then he’ll drop you off at a hotel. If you need any clothes or supplies, let him know, and he’ll get it for you,” Al says, very matter of fact. He is a loyal friend to Colton. I notice him eyeing Jake non-stop.
“Thanks for everything, Al.”
“Don’t thank me, this is all Colton,” he smiles, but it seems sad.
“He won’t answer my text messages,” I say, hoping Al will give me information about Colton. Anything. I am like a hungry animal searching for scraps.
“He’s upset. He was ambushed today. Give him time,” Al smiles again, and blinks his eyes showing he understands the gravity of the situation.
“Okay,” I answer.
Al turns his attention to Jake. “So you’re his brother, huh? This all makes sense now,” he says. Then Al returns his focus to me then back to Jake. “He must have remembered you somehow,” Al says, and my stomach drops. What does Al mean by that?
“He doesn’t read lips,” I answer. “And what makes sense now?” My brows come together expecting an answer. It was such an odd thing to say.
He rakes his hands through his dirty blonde hair. “Nothing, sorry I shouldn’t have said anything at all.”
“Well, you did, so what did you mean?” I ask, knowing I am being pushy, but I can’t let it go.
“Shit!” he curses. “It’s nothing, Evie. It’s just that Colton was so intrigued by the fact that you were deaf. He wanted to learn to sign, he was so obsessive about it. I just figured that somewhere deep down he remembered Jake, and hung on to you because of the buried memory. I don’t mean to be insulting it’s just that I know Colton and he doesn’t settle down with a woman. He was acting odd, and now I know why.” He shrugs as if he didn’t just put a sword through my heart and twist it. Was he that clueless or better yet truly cruel that he didn’t even realize that he just insulted me? I feel my mouth hanging open, so I shut it. “You should get going, you’d be surprised at how resourceful the press can be,” he says, an
d with those words, he turns and walks away. Jake, Veronica, and I sit in the back of the SUV. I am in a state of shock.
“I’m Thatcher. You can call me Thatch.” Veronica looks to the driver then begins to interpret for us. Luckily, we have Veronica, because I am all out of sorts. The focus it requires me to read lips is non-existent right now. Veronica directs Thatch to Carter’s school. He follows Jake and me inside. It doesn’t fly past Jake, or me that he has a gun on him. I wonder if Colton found out about his father threatening to hurt Jake if Veronica ever came clean. I don’t think he knows. Maybe it is Colton being cautious. Carter is put off by the man in the black suit and asks many questions about why he has to leave school before the day was over. I am concerned with how much work from his classes he will have to miss until this mess is over.
Thatcher then drives us to a hotel by the Chicago O’Hare airport. We don’t ask questions. Three rooms are booked when we arrive at check-in. One for Carter and me, one for Veronica, and one for Jake. For some reason, that small gesture of separate rooms tells me that he doesn’t want Jake and I sleeping in the same room, and it consoles me slightly. What doesn’t settle well with me was that his best friend believed Colton was only with me because of some attachment he must have remembered, subconsciously about having a deaf brother. As if I’m not good enough to be with Colton. As if Colton wouldn’t date a deaf girl in a million years. Al’s words sicken me and make my old insecurities about being deaf multiply. I want to believe that Al is just an asshole. But in my gut, I wonder if he is right. Is Colton somehow projecting?
“I’ll be out here in the hall,” Thatch explains as we make it to the front door of our rooms. “A man named Blake will take over my shift at midnight, and I’ll be back in the morning around eight. If you need anything from home, Blake will fetch it in the morning. You and Jake still have reporters camped outside your apartments,” he explains, and I watch as Jake’s jaw ticks while nodding to him. All this need for verbal communication can’t be easy on him.
“Thank you, Thatch.” I force a smile feeling heartbroken. I then sign to Jake everything the man had said. Jake grunts and turns away to his room. Carter caught on to his father’s terse mood and didn’t ask to go with Jake. As soon as the door shuts behind us, I use the extra lock, just in case.
My son turns to me and asks, “What’s going on, Mom? Did something bad happen? Does this have to do with the fact that Colton is governor?” My son has many questions that need answers and rightfully so.
“Let’s order some dinner. We could get room service. Mommy is tired right now. Is it okay if I answer those questions in the morning?” I smile to Carter. In reality, I feel like I don’t have answers that would satisfy him. I don’t know what is happening other than it feels like my life is falling apart.
Carter gives me a crooked grin and nods his head. “Can we order fun stuff for dinner?” His mood immediately perks up with that question.
“What’s fun?” I ask.
Then in unison, we both say, “Pizza.” Carter giggles and I tickle him a little making him laugh some more. He is the sunshine bursting through the dark clouds.
“And sundaes,” he adds.
“And sundaes,” I agree. I want my son to feel like this is a fun experience. I don’t want him to know that we are possibly in danger. He moves to turn on the TV, and I flinch, grabbing the remote. I can only imagine that we are all over the news by now and I want to protect my son from the media circus and any derogatory things they are saying about me.
Luckily we had his school bag because he has a pencil case filled with markers and he loves to draw comics. “Draw a Superman for me,” I suggest.
“Nah, I’m in the mood for Ironman,” he responds with a shrug.
“That sounds perfect,” I answer. “Is it okay if I go take a bath?” I ask him. He is already outlining his character and waves me off.
The minute I get into the bathroom I text Colton again.
Thanks for helping us out today. We need to communicate. Can you please answer this text?
I wait a few minutes while staring mindlessly at my phone. I want answers. I need to know if everything we shared these last few weeks could weather this storm. I was beginning to understand that our relationship wasn’t strong enough.
Colton, please I love you, I would never do anything to hurt you.
Still no answer. Al’s words are on repeat in my mind…I just figured that somewhere deep down he remembered Jake and hung on to you because of the buried memory. I don’t mean to be insulting. It’s just that I know Colton and he doesn’t settle down with a woman. He was acting odd, and now I know why. I take a long breath, hoping it would ease the tightness I feel in my chest. It doesn’t work, so I draw myself a steaming hot bath hoping it will calm my nerves, but as I lay back in the warm embrace of the water my floodgates open and I lose control, hoping my many tears are silent. When I have no more tears left to cry, I reach for my phone. I have to know what the media is saying. It is my connection to the outside world, and as much as the thought of what is happening terrifies me, I still have to know.
Nothing could prepare me for the headlines…
Presidential Candidate Colton Mathis Brought to His Feet
Scandal in the Mathis Family
Is Colton Mathis Still A Prospect for Our Next President?
Colton Mathis Victim to his Family’s Web of Lies
The Woman Behind the Mathis Scandal
As I read the headlines, bile rises in the back of my throat. How could people be so cruel? They don’t know half of the story, and yet they are all judging me, Colton, Veronica…why isn’t James the one with the big Scarlet A on his chest? This is a witch hunt, plain and simple. The picture of Veronica and I sitting in the coffee shop is now plastered all over the internet and images of Colton looking distraught follow. I don’t even think the pictures of Colton are recent since his hair appears much shorter. What am I going to do? I slip out of the bath not wanting to take too long since I need to order dinner. I slip on the large plush bathrobe offered by the hotel since I don’t have a change of clothes with me.
The minute I come out of the bathroom, Carter jumps up on the bed.
“Can we order pizza now?” he signs.
“Sure.” I force a smile for my son’s sake and quickly send a text to Jake and Veronica asking them if they want to join Carter and me to eat. Veronica answers promptly that she is headed over to our room to join us. Jake just typed, ‘No thank you.’ Everything is such a mess. I am being blamed for the demise of a brother he didn’t know he had. I am the mother of his child who he isn’t married to. I was dating his brother. I am also apparently the devil according to most media outlets. Colton is loved by the masses, and I am the bitch who brought him down. Things can’t get any worse.
Carter gets up to open the door for Veronica, by the look on her face I can tell that she feels just as ill about this ordeal as I do. Veronica calls room service and orders personal pizzas for all of us since that is what the hotel offers on the menu. I also told her to order three sundaes, not wanting to disappoint Carter. As she places the order, she gives Carter a loving smile, and he returns the affection. I can’t help but think that as much as we love Veronica, we genuinely don’t know her. Her darn name isn’t even Veronica. When she hangs up the phone, she walks over to Carter, and they begin talking animatedly about the sketches in his sketchpad. My son is pleased to discuss all the superheroes he likes to draw.
“I’m just going to step out for a minute,” I say, and both Carter and Veronica nod to me and go back to their sketches.
“Hi Thatch,” I smile. I feel bad that he’s just sitting on a chair outside our room doing nothing. “Do you want to eat? We just ordered pizza.”
“Nah, thanks, Evie. I’m a meat eater, but I don’t eat while on the job. Thanks for thinking of me though.”
“Sure.” I pause. “Do you think we could somehow get clothes for tonight?” I ask, looking down at my bathrobe a lit
tle embarrassed.
“Let me see what I can do,” he nods assuredly. “Give me twenty,” he smiles.
“Thanks. I’ll just be in there for a bit,” I point to Jake’s door. A couple walks by us down the hall cuddling each other. I knock on Jake’s door, and he opens it up with a sleepy look on his face. Before he can invite me in, I see a flash go off from behind my back. Jake’s brown eyes go wide, so I turn my head to see what is happening. The canoodling couple isn’t actually a couple, they are reporters, and they had taken a picture of me in my bathrobe in front of Jake’s hotel room door.
Thatch was on to them before I could even process what was happening. He grabbed them each by the arm and followed them back out to the elevator. He is also speaking on his phone like it is a walkie-talkie. Everything is happening so quickly I don’t catch what he is saying. Jake pulls me by the robe, hauling me into his room and closes the door using the extra latch to lock it.
He is pacing back and forth looking at the ground and moving his lips quickly.
I tap his shoulder and sign, “Stop it. We need to figure things out. Sit on the bed. I’m nervous enough as it is, I don’t need you pacing.” He concedes and takes a seat. It is times like this that Jake feels more like a brother than a friend. Maybe that’s how I missed his feelings for me.
“Those photographers just caught you walking into my hotel room in a bathrobe. Do you know what that looks like?” he signs. “They are making you out to be a whore. I want to kill them all.” He shoots up from the bed again. “I should go to him. It should be me that speaks to him. He needs to know the truth,” Jake continues signing.
“You won’t be able to communicate with him,” I remind him.
“I’ll take Harvey with me,” he replies instantly.
“I see you’ve given this some thought.”
Mr. All Wrong Page 22