Something True (Joel Bishop Book 2)

by Sabrina Stark

  Why did this matter? I sighed. "Oh, stop it. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't've."

  "Yeah? Why not?"

  "Because he's at a wrestling meet in Ohio."

  "Fuck Ohio."

  I took a deep breath. "Look, I don't want to be rude, but can you calm down? Please? It's not a big deal. Everything was fine. I mean, seriously, you don't always play it safe."

  "Yeah? And you're not me."

  Well, there was that.

  Joel continued. "And neither is your friend."

  "Forget Mike," I said. "Let's talk about something else, okay?"

  Looking anything but eager, Joel said, "Like what?"

  "Well for starters, about your stuff. Do you know, I wouldn't let the movers take it?"

  If Joel was relieved, he didn't show it. "Oh, yeah?"

  "Yeah, so it's still there." I gave a nervous laugh. "And of course, I still have your money. And just so you know, it's all still there. I mean, like I haven't touched it or anything." I gave a playful eye-roll. "Well, other than to put it in my safety deposit box."

  The longer I talked, the more unhappy Joel was looking.

  Into his silence, I rattled on, "So, if you want, we could go get it. I mean, not tonight, because the bank doesn't open until tomorrow. But we could leave tonight. It's a three-hour drive, but—"

  "Melody."

  I froze. Even as I'd been talking, I'd known that something wasn't quite right. The look in Joel's eyes only confirmed it. With growing fear, I asked, "What?"

  "I'm not coming back."

  Chapter 11

  Joel's words echoed in the quiet car. I gave a small shake of my head. "What?"

  Somewhere behind me, I heard a vehicle rumbling up toward us. I didn't even turn to look. My eyes were still trained on Joel's face. Somehow, I managed to say, "You don't mean that."

  "I'm sorry." His voice grew very quiet. "I should've told you."

  I gave him a confused look. "What do you mean? When?"

  Slowly, his gaze shifted to my car, wedged next to that dark van. I looked, but saw nothing. And then it hit me. "You mean before…?" I didn't even know how to say it.

  But soon, I didn't need to, because Joel saved me the trouble by saying, "Before fucking you in the parking lot?"

  I sucked in a breath. I wouldn’t have put it that way. In fact, I probably wouldn't have said it at all. Even now, I could hardly speak. "You're not serious? You knew before—"

  "Yeah," he said. "I knew."

  I was still staring at him. Our lovemaking – or whatever he wanted to call it – had meant something to me. It had meant something to him, too. Or at least, I'd thought so at the time.

  Shadows cast by the approaching headlights crept across his face. It was the face of someone heading for the gallows. He said, "You should go."

  My jaw dropped. "You're kidding, right? Like what, you're dismissing me?"

  Maybe I should've been nicer. If anything, Joel looked more miserable than I felt. And that was saying something. "Well?" I demanded. "Are you?"

  He gave me an anguished look. "It's not like that."

  My tone grew sarcastic. "Oh, isn't it?"

  Behind me, I heard the unknown vehicle pulling up beside us on the passenger's side. I still didn't turn to look. I didn't care who it was or what they were doing. All I knew was, I wasn't going anywhere, not yet.

  I met Joel's troubled gaze. "Just tell me what's going on." My heart was pounding now. "I mean, how could you act like you care—"

  "I care." He took a ragged breath. "It was no lie."

  My voice rose. "And what about you still loving me? Was that a lie?"

  His voice was just above a whisper. "No."

  "So?" I made a sound of frustration. "What is it then?"

  A tap on my car window made me jump in my seat. I whirled to look and saw Cal standing just outside my car door. Behind him was his truck, with the engine no longer running.

  Funny, I hadn't even heard it turn off.

  Cal grinned at me through the glass. "See?"

  See what? My hopes shattered into a million pieces? I gave a stunned shake of my head.

  He motioned for me to roll down the window, but I was too numb to move. Part of me wanted to scream at Cal to go away. But I didn't. In spite of everything, I couldn't help but recall how nice he'd been to me earlier.

  And plus – a wild thought suddenly hit me – maybe this little visit, or whatever it was, would give Joel some time to cool off, and maybe rethink what he was saying.

  With a trembling hand, I reached out and pressed the window-control button. When the glass slid down, Cal said in a tone filled with mischief, "So what were you kids doing?"

  Joel's voice sliced past me. "Talking. Now get the fuck out of here."

  I winced. So much for cooling off. I gave Cal a worried look. Silently, I mouthed, "Sorry."

  Looking utterly unfazed, Cal lowered his head to look at Joel. "Damn," Cal said. "I thought you'd be in a better mood." He looked back to me and said, "You know, he's been a total dick for two weeks now."

  Cal had mentioned something similar during our walk through the parking lot. And just like before, I felt a spark of pathetic hope kindle in my chest. The last two weeks had been miserable for me, too. That had to mean something, right?

  From the driver's seat, Joel said, "Is there a reason you're here?"

  "Yeah," Cal said. "You locked me out again." He laughed. "And get this. Your two little friends? They were gone by the time I got there. So thanks for nothing, you prick."

  Yes. Joel was a prick, at least right now. But that wasn't really him. Somewhere, underneath all that, was the amazing guy I still loved.

  Hoping to keep Cal talking, I forced a smile. "So it was waste, huh?"

  "Not a total waste." He gave a casual shrug. "Had some pancakes, a bunch of bacon, some orange juice. Still, it was pretty damn disappointing."

  He flashed me a sudden grin. "But get this. Wanna know why they weren't there?"

  I gave a hesitant nod. Anything to keep him talking.

  He laughed. "They got kicked out."

  I heard myself murmur, "Kicked out? For what?"

  "Fighting." He made a scoffing sound. "And the worst thing? Happened like five minutes before I got there."

  I could hardly think, but the story sounded like it might be funny. Funny was good, right? Something to break the tension? Hoping for one heck of a punchline, I said, "You mean, like with other customers?"

  "Hell no. I mean with each other." Cal was grinning again. "And I mean a big ol' cat-fight, with slapping and hair pulling." His smile faded. "Sucks that I missed it." He looked to Joel and said, "You owe me, by the way."

  In a tight voice, Joel said, "For what?"

  "For keeping your girl safe while you pulled your head out of your ass."

  Hoping to see Joel's reaction, I turned to look.

  His expression was stony, even as he told Cal, "And I'm gonna owe you again."

  Behind me, Cal asked, "For what?"

  "For keeping her safe now."

  I felt my brow wrinkle. "What?"

  Cal said, "Yeah. What the hell are you talking about?"

  Joel visibly swallowed. "Follow her to the highway, okay?"

  I felt a new surge of panic, "But I’m not leaving."

  Joel gave a slow shake of his head. "You can't stick around here."

  "Why not?" I demanded.

  "Because it's not safe." His gaze shifted back to Cal. "You got this?"

  I spoke up. "No. He doesn't." I turned to Cal and said, "Could you excuse us for a minute?"

  Cal's gaze shifted from me to Joel. With no trace of humor, he said, "Uh, yeah. I'll be in the truck."

  I was so distracted, I forgot to thank him. Instead, I pressed the button to roll up the window and whirled back to Joel. "What was that about?"

  "It's the middle of the night."

  "So?"

  "So the town's shitty, and your car sucks."

  "Oh, is tha
t so?"

  "You know it is." His voice grew quieter. "He'll watch out for you."

  "Oh," I said, my tone growing snotty. "Thanks ever so much." My stomach was in knots again, and why wouldn’t it be? The last couple of hours had been a roller-coaster ride of epic proportions.

  Now, I was rocketing downward with no bottom in sight. I wanted to scream and not in the fun way. "What's your deal, anyway?"

  "I already told you."

  "No," I said. "You haven't. Not really. So just go ahead. Spell it out, alright?"

  "Alright, you wanna know?" Without waiting for my answer, he plunged on. "In my life? There's no place for someone like you."

  The statement was a dagger straight into my heart. "Someone like me? What do you mean?"

  "You think I’m in trouble? Well, maybe I am. And maybe it's gonna suck. And maybe I don't want you to be part of that."

  What a crock. "Oh," I said, my tone growing snotty again, "so you're doing it for me? Is that what you're saying?"

  "No. I'm doing it for me." His eyes were anguished. "If anything ever happened to you—"

  I gave a snort of derision. "That's funny. Something's 'happening to me' now." It was true. My heart was breaking, but I was almost too angry to care.

  He glanced away. "It could be worse."

  I knew firsthand, it could always be worse. But that wasn't the point. Obviously, Joel had made his decision. And short of begging, there wasn't much I could do.

  Funny to think, I had begged. On the day he left, I'd begged him to wait. And then, after he'd gone, I'd left countless messages, begging for him to call me back. And even tonight, I'd practically begged him for whatever that was outside my car.

  I was such an idiot. Even now, after everything, I was like two seconds away from begging him to reconsider.

  Suddenly, I was tired of begging. What was the point, anyway? Even if I convinced Joel to change his mind, what then? He'd just change it back tomorrow.

  Oh sure, maybe tonight, he'd hold me and kiss me and tell me that he loved me. But it wouldn't be a forever thing. That much was obvious.

  When it came to Joel, I didn't want something temporary. I wanted him forever – or at least I had. But now, I wasn't so sure. If he could give me up so easily, what did that really say? Did I love him more than he loved me?

  Who knows? Maybe he didn't love me at all, at least not in the way that mattered.

  I took a shaky breath and said in the coldest voice I could muster. "Alright. If that's what you want."

  "It's not what I want. It's—"

  "You know what?" I held up a hand. "Just spare me, okay? What are you gonna say? That you're doing this for me? That you're gonna save me from pain or danger, or cripes, even public disgrace? Well, let me tell you something, I don't want to hear it."

  I forced something like a laugh. "And now, you're gonna make your friend follow me to the highway? Well, thanks for nothing."

  Joel's gaze blazed into mine. "Wanna know why I won't do it?"

  I gave a half-shrug.

  He said, "Because I'm not sure I'd stop."

  I gave him a thin smile. "Don't worry. I'm sure you'd find a way." And with that, I opened the car door and got out. A second later, I slammed the door so hard, I swear, I could hear the widows rattle.

  Afterward, I didn't even look back, even though I sorely wanted to.

  Chapter 12

  The next couple of weeks passed in a slow, dreary procession of empty cloudy days. I thought of him every day and dreamed of him every night.

  Even when I didn't remember those dreams, I knew exactly who'd been starring in them, whether from the tears on my pillow or from the sweet blissful feeling that faded the instant I realized that none of those dreams had been real, whether figuratively or literally.

  All the while, I did nothing to try to contact him. I still had his money, and it wasn't the only thing I had. I had his clothes. I had his tools. I had his paint brushes and canvases, along with the few completed paintings that he'd been storing for who-knows-how-long.

  Everything was exactly as he'd left it, whether in the guest house or in the studio above. It wasn't just sappy sentimentality that kept me from moving it to someplace else. Storage was expensive, and I could barely pay my gas bill.

  With summer long-gone, I'd lost even my seasonal job at the cookie shop, along with the pittance I received for mowing the lawn and weeding the flower beds. No matter where I looked, everything felt dead and empty. The tourists were gone, the grass had gone dormant, and all of the flowers were long-dead.

  With Aunt Gina in France, learning to be a chef, and Cassie visiting her parents in Indiana, I'd spent Thanksgiving alone, watching old movies and pretending that it was just another day.

  In just a few short weeks, it would be Christmas, not that I cared. In fact, I was having a hard time caring about anything, no matter how much I tried to fake it.

  I was also looking for work, not that I'd found any, which totally sucked, because I needed money now more than ever. Just before Thanksgiving, I'd developed a weird drainage problem in all of the bathrooms.

  Every single sink, tub, or shower was draining so slowly, it took forever for the water to go down. After days of hoping things would magically improve on their own, I'd given up and done the unthinkable.

  I'd called a plumber.

  It was mid-morning, and I was expecting him any minute when the doorbell rang. But when I answered, it wasn't the plumber. It was Derek, dressed in a suit and tie.

  He gave me a big salesman-like smile. "How's it going?"

  I didn't smile back. "What do you want?"

  "Oh come on," he said. "You can't still be mad?"

  Mad didn't even begin to describe it. While standing in the open doorway, I thought of everything Derek had done. He'd blackmailed me with threats. He'd sent a fake letter that convinced Joel to give up any artistic aspirations. He'd hired a giant moving truck – without my permission, no less – to haul away Joel's stuff.

  And now, on top of everything else, he kept stopping by, even though I'd made it perfectly clear that he wasn't welcome. Ignoring his question, I said, "You're supposed to call first, remember?"

  "I did call." He frowned. "Twice."

  "Yeah. I know. And I didn't answer, so you should've stayed home."

  "I wasn't at home," he said. "I was at the office."

  "Well, goodie for you."

  Derek's jaw tightened. "I know you don't believe this, but I'm here as a friend."

  Sure, he was. I muttered, "Some friend."

  He gave me a pleading look. "Has it ever occurred to you that we had your best interests at heart?"

  I wanted to slap him. "Look, we've been through this. For the millionth time, no. It has not occurred to me. Wanna know what I think?"

  "What?"

  "It's not my interests that you care about."

  His eyebrows furrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "You know what it means. Between you and your dad, you're determined to keep me under your thumb." I lifted my chin. "Well, I'm tired of it."

  "Yeah," Derek said. "I heard."

  I froze. In a carefully neutral voice, I said, "You heard what?"

  "That you're looking for another law firm."

  Damn it. I didn't want him to know. Not yet. I tried for a casual shrug. "Where'd you hear that?"

  "It's a small town. Word travels."

  He was right about the town, and yet, I found his story hard to believe. It was true that I'd been seeking out other law firms, but I'd purposely avoided talking to anyone within a hundred miles of here.

  I said, "I don't care what you heard. Is that it? Are we done?"

  "No. Not by a long shot. I also heard you're looking for a job."

  I sighed. Now, this I could blame on the size of the town. I'd been applying all over the place, with no luck. When it came to potential employers, everyone was oh-so-nice, but every single one of them had fallen into one of two categories – those
who thought I was looking for kicks, and those who thought I was looking to do unpaid charity work.

  Either way, it wasn't helping me pay my bills or to complete my art history degree. It was all so incredibly frustrating. I'd been just a few semesters away from graduating when I'd been derailed by a sudden lack of funds, along with the need to keep a better eye on the estate.

  So, of course, I was looking for a job. What else could I do? I gave Derek an annoyed look. "So?"

  "So I’m here to offer you one."

  I crossed my arms. "Oh yeah? Where?"

  "At the law firm. You could clerk or something."

  I wasn't stupid. I saw the job offer for what it was – just another way to keep me under their control. I gave him a thin smile. "Don't you need a law background for that?"

  "Normally. But you're practically family. We'd work it out."

  I felt my jaw clench. "Let's get one thing straight," I said. "You're nothing like family."

  In hindsight, it was hilarious to think that I'd once felt otherwise. Until just a few months ago, Derek had been like the brother I never had. Now, he was a thorn in my side that kept coming back, no matter how many times I plucked it out.

  "Oh come on," Derek said. "Don't be like that. We are like family." He gave me a hopeful smile. "We've always been, right?"

  "Oh, sure." My tone grew sarcastic. "Just like Aunt Vivian is family."

  His smile disappeared. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  But from the look on his face, he knew exactly what it meant. Aunt Vivian was married to my dad's brother. And just like Derek, she took a keen interest in my affairs. But where she was content with merely swiping my stuff, Derek seemed determined to ruin my life – and, the way it looked, steal a lot more than a few wine glasses.

  When it came to estate-management, he and his dad were either crooked beyond belief or incredibly incompetent. Either way, they weren't doing me any favors.

  "Look," I said, "I don't know what you mean to accomplish with these little visits, but let me tell you again. I will never forgive you for what you did."

  He practically groaned, "But I’m trying to make it up to you."

  "By what?" I snapped. "Looking to get Joel arrested?"

  He tensed. "What do you mean?"