Forever & More: The Friend Zone series

by Thompson, Tabetha

  I sigh and look around the room again. My fingers are starting to crave the touch of a bleach bottle. There’s a small cabinet in the back corner of the kitchen, so I go inspect it and find it lacking in cleaning supplies. I know that the bar has cleaning stuff, so I exit the apartment to get what I need.

  Fifteen minutes later, I’m climbing back up those same stairs with a broom, mop and a bucket of supplies to disinfect the disaster that is upstairs. I finish up in the kitchen after washing dishes, scrubbing floors, and trashing everything in the fridge. I cleaned drawers, baseboards and every dish that was in that room. I silently work my way through the rest of the apartment, not allowing myself to think about all the problems I’m facing right now. Sometimes when you’re surrounded by chaos, you need to step back and find solitude to clear your mind and put things in perspective. This is me doing that. Four hours later, there is a trash bag full of dirty clothes, whether they are Harley’s or Brady’s, I’m not sure, but I do know they are getting the hell out of here and getting washed.

  I pull six bags of trash into the alley and on my return to the apartment, I notice a sliver of light shining under the door. I open the door and Brady looks up from his seat at Tom’s desk. My anger from earlier rears its ugly head.

  “You care to explain that shit from earlier?” I spit at him as I enter the office, not stopping until I’m just a few feet away from him.

  “Not really, you were there, you saw exactly what happened.” His comment infuriates me further and without thinking, I'm another step closer.

  “You don’t put your disgusting, womanizing hands on her, do you hear me!” I shout. Thank God no one’s around to hear me yelling at him.

  “It’s nice to know how you really feel about me, man. I also appreciate all the faith you have in me.” He leans back and laughs.

  “You heard me! Stay away from her,” I repeat.

  Brady pushes his chair back and stands. He’s gone into defense mode and I know it’s about to get extremely ugly between the two of us. We stare at each other with tight fists for a few seconds. The clock on the wall ticks, counting down the seconds until we charge like a showdown in the middle of town square in an old western movie.

  “Do you seriously think I was making a move on her? After all the years you’ve known me. After all the shit we’ve been through? Hell, with the shit we’re dealing with now?” He steps closer, but I my feet don’t move. The more he talks, the more I doubt myself and the things I saw.

  Brady’s head tilts like a confused puppy. “You’ve got to be shitting me!” He throws his arms up in the air in annoyance. “On the day of the closing arguments & verdict she was a fucking nervous wreck. I grabbed her hand and held it in support. Support you weren’t there to give her!” He jabs a finger in my chest. “Then, when everyone cleared the room and it was just our little circle of friends, her legs gave out. I had to fucking catch her so she didn’t hit the damn floor!” He takes a step closer, getting right up into my face. “Then I had to practically carry the poor girl to her fucking car.” His breath hits my face. “I was there doing the shit you couldn't because I'm your fucking friend and I was happy to do it. Not because I was trying to get in with your girl, but because I’m your FUCKING FRIEND, you asshole!” The veins in his forehead pulse from the rage flowing through them.

  I stagger to the nearest chair, falling heavily into it. “Jesus, I feel like a dick,” I say into my palms, realizing my mistake.

  “You are a dick,” Brady reminds me. “Look what I have.” He walks to his desk like the argument didn’t happen. He comes back and hands me a piece of paper.

  Offshore account

  Safety Deposit box

  Change Locks

  Todd’s safe-house in no mans

  Warehouse

  “What the fuck is all this?” I ask.

  “Looks like a to-do list to me.” He sits back in his chair. “I found that earlier this morning after you left to go to the trial. I came up here and tore this place apart looking for something,” he tells me.

  I look up at him and that’s when I notice he wasn’t lying. The room is in shambles. A coat rack is knocked on the floor. The mirror on the wall has been removed and propped against the closet door. There are pens and papers lying all over the floor. The chairs have all been moved and pictures on the walls are removed. It looks like the desk threw up everywhere.

  “What the hell, man?” I ask.

  “I don’t know if it’s a to-do or a done list, do you know what any of that means,” he asks.

  “Well, I know where Todd’s place is, but the rest of it doesn’t mean shit to me.” This is all so messed up. I have a few places to start looking, like upstairs or Todd’s, but if I don’t find anything, then what?

  “I’ll keep looking in here, but I don’t know if I will find anything else,” he states. I climb to my feet, clinging to the piece of paper.

  “Well, I’m heading upstairs. I did a lot of cleaning and maybe there’s something up there that can help me. If he stayed there a lot, then he probably left something behind that could lead me in the right direction.”

  “All right. I’ll be up there in a bit. I gotta clean some of this shit up before Erin has a damn fit.”

  “Good, cause ya got a shit ton of dirty laundry you need to take with you.” I turn my back to him to exit the office. “Oh, and can you take my car back to the apartment or something? I don’t wanna give away that I’m hanging out here.”

  “Sure no problem,” he agrees.

  Up the stairs I go; I walk inside and head straight for the shower. My phone is sitting on the bar in the small kitchen where I left it, so I go grab it to check for any missed calls or messages. My steps halt when I see one from the last person I expected to see a message from.

  Skye, sorry to bother you but I wanted to tell you the verdict was guilty. You probably already heard but I wanted to be the one to tell you. I’m sorry things turned out like they did, I’m not sure what more to say. Just know that the pain I caused you with my actions was never intentional. I can keep you updated about the baby if you want or you can hear from Harley. You’re welcome to come to everything and be as active as you want. I’m not going to pretend that I understand why you want to be with her but I can’t worry about that. I have to worry about me and the baby. I have an appointment tomorrow Harley knows all the details. Thank you for all you’ve done. There will never be another that can fill your shoes.

  I’m always here for you if you need me, that will never change.

  That was the most awkward text I’ve ever gotten. She still thinks I hauled ass with Jay, never to look back. It’s only been twenty-four hours, so I’m not sure what I expected. Her mind is probably trying to convince her it’s the worst scenario out of the hundred I know are plaguing her.

  This is one hell of a cluster fuck. She has an appointment tomorrow for the baby and I won’t be able to go to that because of the way I look. It will scare her and she’ll ask a million more questions that I can’t answer. I'm wouldn't answer her questions right now anyway.

  I clutch my phone in my hand, desperate for it to ring and the person on the other end have the answers to all of my questions, but it doesn’t. I close my eyes, trying to sort my thoughts and I can feel myself begin to drift to sleep.

  My thoughts manifest into dreams that haunt me from the time I slipped off until the sound of Brady beating and screaming wakes me from my nightmares. When I sit up, I’m covered in sweat and breathing fast. My heart is pounding against my ribs, trying to break free.

  Brady opens the door before I can even catch my breath.

  “Dude, what the hell happened to you? You’re soaked,” he questions while shutting the door.

  I don’t respond, I don’t know what happened. I can’t remember the dreams, I just know they involved Chloe and whatever happened scared the hell out of me.

  I get up, walk into the kitchen, and fill a glass with water from the tap.

  “So, t
he office came up empty. When do you want to go to Todd’s? I think we need to stake it out before we try to just bust up in there.” I nod in agreement.

  “You ready?” he asks.

  “Let me get a shower and then we can go,” I respond on my way to the small bathroom. I shut the door and strip. I turn the water on and step in the spray. I let it wash over me; the heat from it somewhat relieves my tense muscles.

  “Hurry the fuck up and let’s go,” Brady shouts from the other side of the door.

  I silently scrub myself of any invisible funk that’s growing on me. When I’m done, I step out and grab a towel from the tiny closet to my left. Wrapping it around my waist, I exit the bathroom. When I enter the room, I see Brady sitting on the couch and flipping through a book. But not just any book, Chloe’s journal.

  “Don’t!” I bark and snatch it from his hands.

  “Chill, dude. I didn’t read it. I opened it, saw who’s it was, and that’s when you walked in. Why the fuck do you have that?” he asks.

  “It was in my Jeep when I left the trial today,” I tell him.

  “Yeah, but how did it get there?” he asks. I don’t know why I didn’t ask myself that sooner. How did it get in my Jeep earlier?

  “Fuck if I know. It was just there, so I brought it up.”

  “You read it?” He looks at me already knowing the answer. “Dude, you’re fucking brave.” He laughs. “That chick finds out you read her shit, she’s gonna fuckin’ kill ya. You can tell you were an only child,” he informs me.

  “Where are your clothes?” I change the subject. He points toward the bedroom. The room is dark, there’s only a dresser and mattress lying on the floor. I cleaned everything when I was in here earlier and changed the sheets, but I didn’t go through the dresser, I thought they were Toms and the thought of wearing his clothes creeped me out.

  “All of these in here are yours?” I ask for clarification.

  “Yeah, I sent his shit to goodwill. I didn’t think anyone would mind since that’s what y’all did with most of his stuff anyway.”

  “That’s cool. So, would you rather me wear your boxers or go commando?” I’m only asking for his benefit. At this point, I couldn’t give two shits.

  “Put some fucking drawers on. My granny always told me, always wear a clean pair of underwear in case you’re in a wreck,” he shouts from the living room.

  “What the hell does that have to do with anything?” I genuinely want to know. I’ve never heard that before.

  “Fuck if I know, man. Granny always said crazy shit like that.” He chuckles.

  I dress quickly in his underwear, a Led zeppelin T-shirt and a pair of jeans. I slip on a clean pair of socks and my boots and I’m ready to go.

  We exit BAR a few minutes later and climb into my Jeep. Brady and I make the drive to Todd’s house in a tense silence. When we arrive in no mans, it looks exactly like the last time I was here, empty and neglected. Todd’s house shows no signs of life and that gives me a sense of comfort.

  “Fuck it, just pull in. Doesn’t look like anyone’s here,” Brady breaks our silence.

  “I don’t know, man.” Unease fills me. We don’t know what we’ll be walking in on.

  “No one’s here. Look at the grass, it’s a foot tall. The mailbox is overflowing and the driveway is covered in leaves. No one’s been here and nobody’s coming to this dump.” I take in all the things he mentioned and he’s right. The place has been empty for who knows how long.

  “Fuck it,” I spit out and pull into his driveway.

  “Let’s just be quick, okay? In and out,” he says more to himself. We jump out of the car and run to the house. The door is locked, so Brady begins kicking the half rotten door. After a few kicks, the door swings open on its creaky hinges. We enter an empty living room; I go right down the hall and Brady goes left toward a kitchen. There’s nothing, not a stitch of furniture, not even a damn dust bunny.

  “There’s nothing this way,” Brady yells from the other side of the house. I backtrack my steps until I find him in the living room.

  “There ain’t shit here, let’s get the hell outta here.” I show my agreement by swiftly exiting the house. Brady climbs in the Jeep the same time I do. We exit the house as if it’s about to explode.

  “FUCK!” he yells, punching the dash. We should have known this was a dead end.

  “What’s next on that list? Do you remember?” I ask.

  “Warehouse, safety deposit, um.” He thinks for a second. “Oh, offshore account and something about locks.” None of that means shit to me.

  We decide to take me back to BAR and let Brady take my Jeep to the apartments. I don’t need it and I don’t want anyone to know where I’m at.

  “I’m probably not coming back tonight, but Kasey will be here in a few to open up for me. Just lay low and call me if you need anything. There’s some canned shit that will get you by for tonight in the cabinet.”

  “Brady,” I interrupt him. “Thanks for all of this, and sorry about earlier,” I tell him.

  “That’s what brothers do, right?” He smiles.

  I enter BAR and take the stairs two at a time. Once I’m inside the apartment, I lock the door behind me. I’m not sure what to do with myself so I just pace the loft. The sun sets and the music downstairs gets louder, but it helps drown out the noise in my head.

  I’ve picked up my phone to call Chloe so many times, to check on her and see how she and the baby are doing, but each time, I chicken out. I don’t know what to do about her, but I know I can’t let her continue thinking I’m with Jay. No matter what’s happened, it’s not fair to her. I’ll call her soon, maybe.

  It’s been two weeks and still no word from Skye. Fourteen days since the trial and the last time I thought I saw him in the parking garage. It’s been sixteen days since I saw my child for the first time and just as many since my first therapy session. That week was the happiest of my life, but I couldn’t share it with the one person I loved most.

  The morning after the trial, I was more nervous than I had ever been. My heart races with pure joy every time I think about the moment I saw my baby on the screen at the doctor’s office.

  My phone’s ring tone startles me from the first peaceful sleep I’ve had in months; I’m going to say that it was because the trial is finally over. There were no haunting dreams or memories, no tossing and turning restlessly throughout the night, I stretch my limbs and then sit on the edge of the bed.

  I reach for the phone, but it’s already stopped ringing. Instead of calling the number back, I opt for relieving myself. I squint against the sun’s early rays as I stagger to the bathroom. I handle my business and wash my hands, but then my phone goes off again.

  This time, I rush to answer it and see the number displayed on the screen is unfamiliar.

  “Hello?”

  “Chloe Thomas?” I recognize the voice of Doctor Cox on the other line.

  “Good morning,” I cheerfully greet her.

  “Well, good morning. I wanted to personally check in on you this morning. I see that you are in better spirits than our last conversation.”

  “I really am. I guess this is the part where I fill you in,” I joke.

  “No, you can do that at our three thirty appointment today if you’d like.” I smile.

  “Yes, I will be there. I have to go to the appointment for the baby first, but then I’m heading over to your practice,” I tell her.

  “Okay, well I will let you get on with your day. Good luck at your first appointment and see you this afternoon, Chloe.”

  “See ya then, Doctor.” I end the call.

  Before I can get up from the bed, there’s a single knock on the door and then Sara wheels into my room.

  “Mornin’, puddin.” Sara’s yell is halted when she finds me on the edge of the bed already awake.

  “Heller.” I give my best Madea impression.

  “You look amazing. This pregnancy shit looks good on you. Ya ‘bout ready
?” she asks.

  “Shit, give me a few minutes.” I jump up and run to the bathroom. I brush my teeth and hair in a few short minutes. I rush to my closet and find a simple pink sundress and my flip flops.

  “Okay, let’s roll,” I say, walking past her and chuckling.

  “Ha, you got jokes this morning. I’ll let the rolling crack slide since I like this Chloe a hell of a lot better than the one that’s been hanging around here,” she tells me.

  “Yeah, I like her too,” We walk into the living room and Harley stands.

  “Morning,” I say to him as I grab my purse off the bar and start for the door.

  “Hey,” he drags out. If I was to judge by the look on his face, I grew an extra eye last night.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah, are you?” he questions.

  “Fine as frog hair split three ways. Let’s go, I’m excited about today.”

  Behind me, I clearly hear Harley ask Sara if I was okay. When she says yes, he asks her if I’ve taken anything this morning. I tune them out about the time she flies in on him for suggesting that I was high. I don’t blame him, if I were in his shoes, I would probably ask the same thing.

  We climb in and then out of the elevator. When we exit the building, I inhale a deep breath of fresh autumn air. The air is a little bit chilly and I wish I would have thought to grab my blue jean jacket, but I’m not turning back now. I’m too excited about hearing my baby’s heartbeat and finding out how far along I am. I was supposed to find out while I was in the hospital, but I wanted to wait for Skye, then everything else happened so I never found out.

  We all pile in Harley’s car and head to the doctor’s office. Harley’s phone rings halfway into our journey.

  “Sup?” he answers. Harley glances to the rearview mirror, but when he meets my eyes, he quickly looks back to the street.

  “Yeah, I can do that. Just let me know,” he vaguely comments. The voice on the other end of the line is a male, but I can’t make out who it belongs to.