When they entered his room, he peeled off his shirt and let it drop to the floor. Then he slipped hers off as well, kissing her again as they fell onto his mattress.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. Candace was so caught up in the moment that all she wanted to do was please him. Lightly kissing his strong chest, she worked her way up to his neck which still bore the faint scent of his cologne. She could feel his hands sliding up her back where he unhooked her bra. Once again his hands were threaded through her hair and he pulled her close, their chests pressed against each other as they kissed. I love this guy so much. The emotion of meeting Vance and Callie pushed far out of her mind. It would all be there for her to worry about tomorrow.
Tonight is all about me and Toby, she thought. There is no one else in the world.
Seventeen
Lies and Consequences
Toby was careful not to wake Candace when he got up, and pulled on a shirt and jeans. Even as he stared down at Candace sleeping peacefully on his pillow, enjoying the way the light played across her hair, he couldn’t shake the nervousness he felt about the robbery he and his cousin were about to pull off. It was nothing new. Toby always felt anxious before pulling any sort of job—even the small ones—and he knew that a shot of whiskey was what he needed to calm his nerves.
Tucking his T-shirt into the waist of his jeans, he went out into the kitchen to finalize the details with Keenan. His cousin was already seated at the table, looking over a map and eating cereal out of a plastic bowl. As Toby grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard and poured a shot into a coffee cup, Keenan began to enthusiastically explain what would happen.
“So,” Keenan said. “Pedro’s boy found out that everything is going to be at the warehouse for one day only.”
“Everything?” Toby asked, pouring coffee grounds into the coffeemaker.
“Cash and drugs. The warehouse is right here.” Keenan pointed it out to Toby on the map. “Near Cudahy.”
“There’s gonna be guys guarding that shit,” Toby said. In Toby’s opinion, this was the biggest problem. It wasn’t breaking into a warehouse or getting out of there and back onto the freeway quickly, it was the surprise that lingered behind the heavy metal door. No drug dealer leaves that much cash and money unattended, so he knew there had to be guys—armed guys—there guarding it.
“Only one,” Keenan said, raising his index finger for emphasis. “That’s the beauty of it. Pedro and I walk in there with our nines pointed in this guy’s face and walk out with all of it.”
As Toby stood over the map, listening to Keenan explain the best getaway route, his mind drifted to thoughts of what Candace would say if she knew what he was about to do. Would she call it quits on him? Could she ever understand that he was doing this for her? He wasn’t sure, but in a matter of hours, it wouldn’t matter anyway. The deed would be done and he’d be packing up the truck to head north.
“Are you listening to me?” Keenan asked, annoyed. “This is important.”
“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” Toby said, and poured coffee into his cup, letting it mix with the booze. “We get on the 710 at Firestone and go north. But stay off Atlantic. It’s too obvious.”
As Keenan traced the route with his finger, giving Toby side street options, the two men looked up and saw a sleepy, wild-haired Candace standing in the doorway. She was wearing one of Toby’s T-shirts that hung way too big on her tiny frame. Their conversation instantly ceased, which Toby was sure looked awkward and suspicious.
“Am I interrupting something?” she asked.
“No,” Toby said, trying to sound normal as Keenan rolled up the map and walked out. “I was just gonna make some breakfast. Want some?” He couldn’t help but feel guilty hiding what he was doing from Candace. Still, for her safety, it was better she didn’t know.
“Sure,” Candace said, and walked over to the cupboard where Toby kept the cereal.
Wanting to prevent any further conversation about what he and his cousin were doing, he asked, “So, what’re your plans today? Gonna go see your bio mom again?”
“No. My brother, though. He said I could bring the car in and he’d fix the starter.” Toby nodded, too preoccupied to really listen. “I was thinking maybe I should call my mom—my other mom, Shannon—just to let her know I’m okay.”
That got Toby’s attention. He was sure opening communication with Shannon would lead to convincing Candace to go back home. “Do you think we could talk about that before you do it?”
“Aren’t we?” she asked. “Right now?”
“I can’t,” Toby said, conflicted. “I have to leave. Keenan and I are . . . gonna go help out a friend.” He knew it sounded like a lie but he wanted to keep it as vague as possible.
“Oh, all right,” she said. She seemed put off by the ambiguity.
“We’ll talk this afternoon, okay?” he assured her, trying to assuage his own nervousness and guilt. She nodded and he kissed her forehead. Keenan poked his head in and motioned for Toby to hurry up.
“We gotta go, cuz,” Keenan said.
Toby turned back to Candace and kissed her again, more passionately. “Everything’s going to be just fine.” Even though he was saying it to her, he was really saying it aloud for himself.
He saw the confused look Candace gave him, but ignored it. Instead, he downed his coffee, picked up his wallet and keys, and walked out in silence with Keenan.
As Candace finished her cereal alone in the kitchen, heavy thoughts weighed on her. There was something decidedly different about how Toby was acting this morning and she was sure it had to do with Keenan. Keenan was trouble, and she hated the idea of that spilling out onto Toby. She thought about calling his cell phone and telling him that whatever he was doing, he should just turn around and come home. I can’t tell him what to do, she admonished herself. He’s an adult. He has to make his own decisions. Still, she didn’t like being lied to and she had a strong suspicion that Toby wasn’t telling her the truth about helping a friend. At the very least, when he returned later, she planned on having a frank discussion with him about honesty. Their relationship was less than a week old but if they were going to be together, they had to promise to tell each other everything.
It would be fine. Besides, she had more immediate concerns. Candace headed back to Toby’s room, yanked a pair of jeans from her bag, and slipped them on. Then she pulled on a plain gray T-shirt, twisted her long hair up into a messy bun, and went out to start her car. Hopefully Vance would be able to fix the problem without too much trouble. She couldn’t believe he was willing to do it for free. There had to be something she could do for him to return the favor.
Candace twisted the latch on the glove compartment and foraged through the pile of paperwork and junk inside. Sure that there was a list of what the mechanic had fixed previously when her mom had taken the car in, she was determined to find it. It could be helpful to Vance. As she scooped out old assignments and manuals and hair ties, she came across a little box of matches. The name of the restaurant, Vittadini’s, was embossed in gold.
They hadn’t been to Vittadini’s in a long time. She must’ve had the box in her room or purse and grabbed it up at one point and left it in her car. Candace remembered the last time they were there and she’d picked up the matches on her way out. It was for her mother’s birthday three years ago. It was just her, her mother, and Andrew. Her father had missed it.
Candace pulled a fragile matchstick from the box and scraped it along the striking side, watching as the tiny phosphorus head burst into flame. She thought back to that night, remembering that she and Andrew had gone shopping together and bought their mom a bottle of perfume for a gift.
“Thank you.” Her mother had smiled as she opened the bottle and sniffed the fragrance. “I absolutely love this. You couldn’t have picked out a better gift.”
“What did Dad get you?” Andrew had asked as he dug into his caprese salad. Their father was away on a long flight to Guam and cou
ldn’t attend Shannon’s birthday dinner.
“Your father doesn’t need to get me anything. I’m just glad the two of you are here with me to celebrate.” Her mother’s answer had satisfied Andrew, who turned his attention back to stabbing the tomato on his plate, but Candace had seen the sadness in her mother’s eyes. Her mom never once missed her dad’s birthday, she thought. Her father always took his own birthday off to go fishing with his brothers and he’d always come home to a homemade German chocolate cake waiting for him. It was his favorite, and her mother would always get up early that morning to bake it.
Candace blew out the match and stared at the last wisp of smoke as it drifted into nothingness. She’d always blamed her mother for driving her father away, but perhaps the divorce wasn’t entirely Shannon’s fault. Maybe her father wasn’t the best husband and maybe her mom got sick of it. There are two sides to every story, Candace thought. She’d been so resentful toward her mom that she’d never taken the time to think about it from her perspective.
Candace tucked the mess of papers and junk back into her glove box. She left the little matchbox on the console. As Candace turned the key, the starter made that familiar grinding noise like it wanted to start but couldn’t quite make it happen.
“Come on,” she pleaded with it. “I’m taking you to get fixed right now. Just work one more time. Pleeeeeeease.” No dice. The car absolutely, positively wouldn’t start. Frustrated, she plucked her cell phone from the console, looked up the name of the garage, and dialed the number.
Two rings and a cheery voice answered, “Garage. This is Monica.”
“Monica!” Candace was happy to hear her brother’s girlfriend on the other end of the line. Perhaps he’d already mentioned the situation to her. “This is Candace, Vance’s newly discovered sister. . . .” She heard Monica’s lighthearted laugh on the other end.
“Oh, hey! Vance said you were going to bring your car in today. I’m looking forward to meeting you.” It was exactly what Candace needed to hear. It made her feel just a tiny bit better.
“Thanks. I was going to do it right now but it’s refusing to start again so . . . I guess I need to have it towed.” Candace felt a little embarrassed that she couldn’t even manage to get the car to the shop.
“That’s no problem,” Monica assured her. “We have a tow company we work with a lot. I’ll send a truck out right away.”
“That would be awesome,” Candace said before giving Monica the address to Toby’s house. With that, she hurried back inside to take a quick shower before the tow truck driver arrived.
Warm, soapy water swirled around Candace’s feet and into the drain. Much of the anger Candace had been harboring felt as if it were washing away too. Things just aren’t so black-and-white, she thought. People aren’t perfect. They have flaws and make mistakes and they can’t always predict the outcomes of their actions.
“It’s just not how life is,” she found herself stating. Candace had always held everyone to such a high standard, assumed that everything everyone did was thought out and preplanned. She’d been looking at it wrong. And she’d been living with so much resentment. Her brother had it figured out. Even though his father died in prison, his mother was a drug addict, and his sister was given up for adoption, he didn’t seem angry.
And yet here I am, Candace thought. Pissed off at everything. What did she really have to be so angry about? Yes, she was adopted, but the reason she never suspected it was because her mother and father loved her as much as they loved Andrew. Sure, her parents were divorced, but what if that was actually for the best? She’d always blamed her mother for not getting to spend time with her dad. But when Candace really thought about it, her father wasn’t around that much before the divorce, either. Maybe it was her mother who had put in the effort all those years and when she couldn’t do it anymore, Kurt decided to leave.
How weird that it took finding her biological mother to realize she hadn’t been very fair to her adoptive one.
Candace turned off the water and stepped out. Wrapping a towel around herself, another thought struck her. Even if she could mend the relationship with Shannon, there was no way Shannon was going to let her stay with Toby. Candace knew her mom was worried about her, but if she told her where she was, the cops would come to take her home.
An email would be best. That way, she could say the things she needed to say, but her mother couldn’t demand to know where she was and who she was with.
Toby sat behind the wheel of Keenan’s SUV while Keenan leaned over in the passenger seat, double-checking the clip of his semiautomatic handgun again. Toby had watched him do it at least three times since they got into the car, and he could tell his cousin was nervous. Why wouldn’t he be? What they were about to do could get them all killed. If Toby could have turned to Keenan and told him that he’d changed his mind and wanted out, he would have. But it was too late to do that now. He’d made a promise and he wasn’t going to pussy out. He just hoped that Pedro hadn’t miscalculated—that all this was going to be as easy as Keenan believed.
They pulled up in front of Pedro’s house and stopped. Pedro lived in a sketchy neighborhood just east of downtown Los Angeles where the windows on the houses were barred and the structures looked as beat-down as their inhabitants. Toby was surprised to see Pedro’s three-year-old daughter playing in the front yard with a puppy. Pedro’s wife, Maria, a beautiful Latina, looked on as she chatted on her cell phone.
When she saw the SUV, Maria smiled and waved enthusiastically. She has no clue what we’re doing today. Pedro kept it from Maria just like I kept it from Candace. Keenan waved back politely and hopped out. Toby watched as Keenan approached Maria, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and then picked up Pedro’s daughter and tossed her playfully into the air. The puppy bounced around at his feet.
Toby felt sick. He kept picturing that black widow in his house and he knew deep down, the moment he saw Maria and the little girl, that something was about to go terribly wrong today. This is the last time I’m ever going to see them. The thought was so present, he couldn’t shake it. He wasn’t sure if he was just trying to find ways to try to talk himself out of it. He couldn’t do that. He’d already committed and the plan was in motion. There was no backing out now. He decided to turn in the other direction and focus on a teenager and his father who were bent down under the hood of a muscle car parked in their driveway.
A few seconds later, Pedro exited the house with a backpack slung casually over his shoulder. He kissed Maria and his daughter, and then followed Keenan back to the vehicle. As soon as they had pulled the doors shut, Toby could see the faux happiness fall from their faces, replaced by serious concentration.
“All right,” Pedro said. “Let’s go do this.”
Candace sat on the sofa with Toby’s laptop perched on her knees as she waited for the tow truck. She sipped coffee as she struggled to compose an email to Shannon. Dear Mom, she wrote. I’m sorry I ran away. As soon as she typed the words, she decided to delete them. It wasn’t how she wanted to start. There was a lot to say, a lot of apologies to be made, a lot of emotions to synthesize into words. On one hand, she was still hurt that her mother hadn’t told her the truth, but more than that, the fact that her mother had put up with so much from her when she didn’t have to struck a painful chord in Candace. Here was a woman who kept trying even though Candace showed little effort in return. That suddenly meant something, and it wasn’t anything Candace had considered until she spoke to Callie.
The doorbell rang. Thankful for the interruption, Candace got up and opened it, revealing a uniformed tow truck driver with a clipboard. “Candace White?” he asked.
“Yes. You’re here for my car,” she said pleasantly. “Let me just get my keys.” When she returned, she handed the man her keychain with the little silver shamrock on it and watched briefly from the door as he backed his truck up to her car and hitched it. She shut the door and went back to the couch to continue working on the most difficult em
ail she’d ever tried to write.
Keenan’s SUV pulled up in front of an abandoned warehouse in Cudahy. The windows were, for the most part, boarded up, and those that weren’t had deep cracks that splintered their frosted glass. There wasn’t a soul anywhere in sight.
“In an’ out. Ten minutes and we’ll all be a lot richer,” Pedro uttered as he pulled a balaclava from his backpack and put it on. Keenan did the same. Both men checked their weapons as Toby glanced around, praying no unexpected visitors would pass by. Their identities hidden under nefarious-looking masks, Pedro and Keenan exited the SUV and walked cautiously to the warehouse’s side door. Toby watched nervously as Pedro kicked the door open with his boot, destroying the flimsy lock.
As Keenan and Pedro disappeared into the warehouse, Toby craned his neck to see if anyone was coming from the other side of the parking lot. There wasn’t. He glanced over at the dark blue sedan parked by the entrance. It was the only car in the lot. Toby hoped that meant that Pedro’s contact was right—there was only one guy inside guarding the money and drugs.
Hurry up, Toby silently pleaded, wishing Pedro and Keenan would come running out the door so he could take off and be done with the whole thing. The longer he sat there, the more his nerves got to him. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, ready to shove the transmission into drive and peel away. What’s taking so long? C’mon, man . . . hurry the hell up. . . .
Through one of the broken windows, Toby could see some movement inside. Toby leaned forward to see, but all he could make out was a person moving slowly. It didn’t look like Keenan or Pedro, though. Oh my god, he thought. That’s got to be Dawson, or one of his guys. . . .
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