by Vivien Vale
He drags a hand through his hair, and I can practically see the wheels turning in his mind. After a long moment, he looks back to me, determination now written across his features.
“We have to say Fentress broke in, that Wyatt was just defending you.”
“Will that work?”
“I think so… It has to.”
I nod, unable to think of a better solution.
“Do you think Wyatt will go along with it?”
“He fucking better,” he answers simply, already reaching to pull the phone from his pocket.
I can feel the adrenaline leaving my body as he dials, exhaustion rushing up to take the place of my fear. My legs feel suddenly rubbery, my eyelids heavy.
I know that we’re in a fairly desperate situation here, I realize that this has to be handled. At this particular moment though, all I really want to do is lie down and take a nap.
Instead, I cross to the staircase, sitting down and resting my head in my hands for support.
As if from a distance, I hear Jake placing the call to the police. He runs through our made-up version of events quickly. Fentress broke in, Wyatt tried to fight him off, the whole nine.
I can’t believe it’s come to this, Jake lying to the police to cover for Wyatt’s erratic behavior. I can honestly say that I did not see this one coming.
“Okay, thank you,” I hear Jake say. “Yes, we’ll wait here.”
The sound of the call disconnecting reaches me a moment before I feel his hand on my shoulder.
With profound effort, I lift my head, trying to force a smile to my lips and failing miserably.
“Are you okay, Ruby?” Jake asks, taking a seat beside me.
NO.
“Sure, I’m alright.”
He laughs humorlessly, “You’re a terrible liar.”
“I know.”
“Everything’s gonna be fine” he offers, shooting me what I imagine is meant to be a reassuring smile.
It does nothing to calm my racing mind.
“Do you think Fentress is gonna be okay?” I ask, looking pointedly towards where he lays.
“Of course. He’s just knocked out. Ruby, he’ll be fine.”
“Good. I doubt we could talk our way out of this if he was hurt too badly.”
He wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a quick embrace. “Don’t worry about that right now, okay?”
Easier said than done, but I nod regardless, trying to force some calm to my fevered mind.
We sit in silence, minutes dragging slowly by as we wait for the police to arrive. I run over the plan in my mind, hoping that we’re believed.
Despite Wyatt’s disturbing behavior, I can’t stand the idea of him being harmed by this.
It seems like a very long time before I finally hear knuckles rapping against the door, and see lights flashing through the window shades.
“I’ll handle it,” Jake says, crossing to answer.
I watch as the police enter, their attention drawn quickly to Fentress, who is just now beginning to stir.
Jake runs through our version of events, and I interject minimally, an occasional ‘yes’ seeming to suffice.
By the time they’ve finally clasped cuffs around a confused Fentress’s wrists, I can barely keep my eyes open. Still, I force myself to my feet, crossing the entryway on shaky legs.
From the doorway, I watch my boss being escorted to the police car. He walks silently, head down turned, as if in thought.
I wonder what he’s thinking, wonder what will come of this awful turn of events. Mostly though, I wonder about Wyatt.
Who has he become in our years apart?
Chapter 35
Wyatt
I stand in the driveway, Rowdy running circles around my legs as I lift another suitcase into the open trunk.
It was an understandably rough night, most of it spent tossing and turning, replaying my own stupidity on a loop. I can’t believe I’ve gone and screwed everything up and that I lost control like that. And in front of Ruby no less.
It had finally seemed like things might be getting better, like I might be able to leave behind some of the memories that have haunted me for so long...
I had Ruby—amazing, smart, sexy Ruby. I had my best friend.
I had hope, for the first time in so long. So, naturally I fuck it up royally.
It’s no surprise that Ruby has chosen to stay holed up in her bedroom. I wouldn’t want to look at me either.
In fact, Jake told me this morning that she’s decided to ride home with her parents. I get it, of course. Being trapped in a car with me for two hours must seem like a nightmare right about now.
It’s for the best that we just cut ties now; end it cleanly.
Still, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting.
“Easy boy,” I say, reaching down to scratch Rowdy behind his ear. “We’ll get goin’ soon enough.”
He usually gets antsy like this when I’m upset—man’s best friend and all that. He has the uncanny ability to sense when my mind is at its most fucked up, which explains why he’s running around like a lunatic now.
It’s like he’s the physical embodiment of my mental state; and today he has lost his shit.
It’s ridiculously fitting.
Jake appears from the front door, his own duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. As he approaches me, he wears the same strange expression that he had all day. Unasked questions lurk just behind his gaze.
“Is that all?” I ask, ignoring his stare and gesturing toward the duffel bag.
“Almost. I’ve just gotta grab a few odds and ends, and then we’ll be set.”
“Sounds good.”
I watch him carelessly dump his bag into the truck. He gives Rowdy a scratch as well, turning to face me.
“Are you okay, man?”
I open my mouth to lie but think better of it.
“Nope,” I say simply. “Go get the rest of your stuff so we can get the fuck out of here, okay?”
“Wyatt...”
“Come on, man. Let’s just go.”
I’m in no mood for some sappy heart-to-heart with Jake right now. Not that I’m ever in the mood for such things—least of all now. I just want to get on the road and put this whole disastrous trip behind me.
I fucked up. It’s over. Time to move on.
At least to the extent that someone like me is capable of moving on.
He shoots me a frustrated look but doesn’t press further. I watch him walk back into the house, hoping he’ll hurry up so we can just get on with it.
I ruined the entire vacation, made my friend lie to cover my ass, and scared the shit out of Ruby. I think I’ve done enough.
Talking about it won’t change a damn thing. If the fear I saw in Ruby’s eyes showed me anything, it’s that.
I was right before. Choosing to cut myself off is the best possible option. I’m no good for Ruby, no good for anyone for that matter.
I went and let myself forget that for a minute, but I remember now. I’m seeing things clearly again.
I’m a fucking broken man, a soldier who never should have come home. Those are just the facts.
And while I might not be able to do anything to change that, I can at least do everyone the favor of staying the fuck away from them.
I had really wanted to be better on this trip, to do the right thing whenever possible. Obviously, that little plan blew up in my face, so I’m done.
Done trying. Done fighting the inevitable.
I need to be alone, holed up in a place where the fucking curse that is me can’t affect anyone else.
I kick at the gravel, looking toward the front door where Jake has yet to emerge. A few odds and ends my ass.
What’s taking so fucking long?
It was hard enough last night when I was resisting the urge to go to Ruby, to apologize again and let her know that I didn’t intend to screw things up.
Obviously, that wouldn’t change anything, bu
t the desire was there.
Waiting even longer is torture.
I’m about ready to go in and drag Jake’s ass out myself when he finally reappears, a toiletry bag clenched in one hand.
“About time,” I say. “Are you ready now?”
“What’s the fucking rush, Wyatt? We’re going, okay?”
“Good.”
I turn, scanning the tree line for Rowdy, who has pulled a disappearing act of his own now.
I put my fingers to my lips, letting loose an almost painfully loud whistle. His bark answers almost immediately.
“Come on, boy! Time to go!”
He comes bursting between the trees a moment later—tail wagging, tongue flying. He looks so damn happy out here it’s almost a shame to take him back to the city. Like me, he does better with silence, solitude, and wide open spaces.
I open the door to the back seat, waiting as he jumps in. I give his head another scratch before closing the door.
Maybe one day we can get a place out in the country somewhere. Rowdy will like that, and after all, there’s no one for me to stay in town for.
Maybe I’ll buy a cabin in the middle of nowhere, let the dog have his fun. No reason that one of us shouldn’t be happy.
I close the trunk and walk round the passenger’s side. I settle into my seat the same time Jake plops into his.
“Seriously, man,” he says, shutting his door, “what the fuck is going on with you?”
I run a hand through my hair, stifling the groan that I want to let loose.
“Nothing, alright? Just drive the fucking car.”
For a second, I didn’t think he was going to drop it, but this time he does. He settles for shooting me a dirty look from the corner of his eye.
He starts the car, the roar of the engine greeting my ears like a welcome escape.
“Fine, we’re going. Happy?”
“Not even remotely.”
I stare into the rear view mirror as we pull away, watching the lake house slowly disappear from sight.
Chapter 36
Ruby
I stand in front of my open refrigerator door, staring blankly at the contents while my mind spins.
It feels weird to be home, back in my own apartment. After the trip I just had, it feels like everything is different—off, somehow—but here, everything is the same. Unchanged and just as I left it.
Somehow, that just doesn’t feel right.
For my home to be so clean and tidy, so untouched even while there’s a maelstrom raging in my head, it’s just not right.
I had been so hopeful at the start of our vacation, so sure that something wonderful was going to happen.
I think back to my journal, to the foolish way that I clung to it the last few days, fantasizing that all of my youthful dreams were about to come true.
I was stupid, embarrassingly so. I’m a grown ass woman, not a love struck teenager. I should’ve known better than to think that I’ll have some fairy tale ending with my brother’s best friend.
Wyatt isn’t the boy that I knew years ago. He’s a man—a man who has been through things that I can’t even begin to understand.
He’s changed and he had to change. I should’ve expected that, going in to it.
Instead, I let myself believe that we were the same crazy kids who shared a forbidden kiss years ago. I let myself think that we could pick up where we left off.
That was obviously never going to happen. I only wish I had realized it sooner—before everything went to hell and before my security was threatened.
I have yet to hear from Fentress. No call, no text. Whether or not I still have a job is anyone’s guess.
Though if I were betting, I’d put money on the latter.
I realize how long I’ve been fixating on the near bare shelves of my fridge and shake my head to clear it. I’ve gotta pull myself together here and stop dwelling on my own shitty situation.
The thing is though, I don’t seem to be able to do so.
I groan, reaching for the bottle of wine on the bottom shelf. If I can’t stop thinking on my own, at least this might help.
Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, I head back to my living room, bottle in hand.
This is going to be a rough night, might as well indulge.
Plopping down on the sofa, I pour myself a glass, not stopping until the dark liquid is on the brink of overflowing. I grab my laptop with my free hand, settling it onto my lap and taking a mouthful of wine.
Distraction, that’s all I need—just a little mindless tedium to tear my thoughts away from Wyatt.
I decide social media is the best way to go and pull up Facebook. After all, what’s more mindless than that?
I scroll aimlessly down my news feed, skimming over articles and posts from people who are only sort of my friends.
It’s the usual racket.
Someone had a baby, another went on a trip. Still another declares that she’s in a relationship, but it’s complicated.
As if anyone even cares.
I’m about to give up on my quest for distraction altogether when a notification pops up on my screen.
With nothing better to do, I click on it.
It’s an article I’ve been tagged in, some posting from a news site that I’ve never visited before:
Routine arrest leads to startling discovery
Alright, my interest is piqued. I click to open it, drumming my nails against my lap as the new window loads.
The moment it does, my breath catches in my throat. There’s a mug shot to accompany the article, a familiar face staring back at me.
Though clearly worse for wear, there’s no mistaking him. His eyes have begun to blacken underneath, and there’s a bandage covering his nose, but I’ve looked at this face five days a week for months.
Fentress.
My eyes skim quickly over the article, hands trembling slightly as I read:
A routine arrest for breaking and entering has resulted in a startling discovery about one prominent local lawyer.
My mind races as I continue.
At booking, his history of violence came to light; a turn of events that came as a shock to the community. The man in question, Carl Fentress, is now believed to have been in the process of attempted assault when he was apprehended. This, in the wake of detectives discovering his history of assault on his former secretaries at a joint law firm. Authorities revealed that he had, on three separate occasions, been arrested for assaulting his female employees; a fact that he had, until now, taken great pains to hide.
I finish the article and immediately reread it, hoping foolishly that there has been some mistake.
If this is true, if Fentress really is the monster they say, then he was at the lake house to do much more than talk to me.
I set my computer aside and back away from it, looking at it now like it’s some poisonous serpent.
This can’t be true. I’ve worked with this man five days a week, been alone with him more times than I can count.
Tremors rack through my body at the thought.
I’ve been in danger this whole time. At any moment, he could’ve attacked me. I could’ve been next on his list of victims.
My heart thuds almost painfully in my chest, terror washing over me in waves.
If I had been alone at the lake house that day, if Wyatt hadn’t been there…
Oh no.
Wyatt.
I blamed him, treated him like he was some feral animal that couldn’t be trusted.
I picture the hurt look in his eyes back at the lake house, I hear him apologizing.
I can’t believe how wrong I was.
If he hadn’t been there, who knows what might have happened. He protected me, saved me. And how did I repay him?
With mistrust and anger, accusing glares, and silence.
I collapse slowly back on the couch, breathing heavily in the wake of my discovery.
Carl Fentress is a monster.
And
Wyatt Lawrence saved me.
Chapter 37
Ruby
I sit on the couch for a long moment, a combination of alcohol and shock running through my veins.
Fentress was trying to hurt me. He might even have killed me had Wyatt not been there.
I can’t believe how badly I handled the situation, can’t believe I didn’t trust Wyatt enough to believe he was only trying to keep me safe.
Of course he was.
No matter what I thought before, no matter how much Wyatt has been through, he’s still the same person at heart.
The kind of man who would do anything to protect the people he loves. The kind who joined the service in order to do what he believed was right.
I feel guilt stricken for ever having doubted that.
How can he ever forgive me?
I stand suddenly, crossing the room in a flash.
I’m not sure if he can or will forgive me, but I have to try. I can’t just let him go on thinking that he wronged me. Not when the truth is quite the opposite.
I grab my cell phone from the counter where I left it, dialing without giving matters further thought.
I know that Wyatt probably doesn’t want to talk to me. He probably even thinks that he’s doing me a favor by keeping his distance.
I’m fairly certain that, at this point, he won’t even answer my calls.
So I do the next best thing.
The phone trills in my ear as I place the call, the line finally connecting with a soft beep.
“What’s up, Ruby?” Jake asks, sounding just as concerned since we left the lake house.
“I need a favor.”
He laughs. “Straight to the point, huh? What do you need?”
“I need you to get in touch with Wyatt for me.”
“Ruby...” he says, drawing my name out.
I know what’s to follow is likely a lecture. Sure enough...
“Do you really think that’s such a good idea? I mean—”
“Trust me, Jake, I need to talk to him.”
“Why? The last time you saw him, he scared the shit out of you, beat your boss into a bloody pulp. What exactly do you need to say?”
I groan, knowing he’ll never help without getting an explanation first.
“I need to apologize,” I say reluctantly.