by SM Olivier
Mom never had to work extra hours once I got to Madam Galina’s school. Madam had wealthy donors that donated to the competition teams. I didn’t have to worry about hotel costs, entrance fees, or costumes. The only thing I had been responsible for was my food. From time to time, Mom would give me money for that. Otherwise, I dipped into the money I had worked for.
“Well, we’ll come to get you if you want. Do you have a phone?” I asked her.
She pulled out a phone that looked like one of those pay-as-you-go, older models. “Thanks, what’s your number? I have driver’s ed this semester, and my dad said I can drive my mom’s old car once I can get my license. So, it’ll be a little while before I can even drive myself.”
I rattled off my phone number. “Text me so I can have your number, too,” I insisted. “What type of construction does your dad do?”
I waited for her text and nodded when it came through. I gave her a thumbs up and smile.
“Commercial,” she stated.
I smiled. “My Grandpa, too.”
She grimaced. “I know. My dad applied there four years ago, but since he has a record, they wouldn’t hire him.”
I looked at her in surprise. I had met her father yesterday, and he had seemed so sweet and kind. I never would have thought he’d have a criminal record. I restrained myself from being nosey.
She was silent for a few beats, then took a deep breath. “May I ask why your half-sister hates you so much?”
Did she not hear the gossip around here?
“My biological father knocked up my high school mother and his college girlfriend at the same time,” I explained. “He chose Catherine, the college girlfriend. I didn’t even know he was my father until a month or so ago. Needless to say, I was a surprise to his family, and they hate me for it.”
She nodded. “My Dad was eighteen when he met my mother. She was sixteen. Even though she consented to their relationship, my grandparents chose to press charges against my dad. My dad came from the wrong side of the tracks, and my grandparents were wealthy. They hoped my mother would marry one of the country club boys, but my mom was in love with my dad. Her parents demanded that they stop seeing each other, and when they refused, the cops were called. Dad was arrested, found guilty, and put in jail. My mom found a lawyer to take his case pro-bono, and even though he was finally released, and the charges were found to be bogus, it has yet to be expunged from his record.”
I felt a tug on my heart, remembering everything we had overheard yesterday and how it must have made her feel. It couldn’t be easy for her. I shut down those thoughts as she continued talking.
“Some places will give him a chance if he notates it on the background check but not most of them. All they see is statutory rape and assume he was guilty.” She shook her head. “So, you don’t have a relationship with your dad or his family, but you do with your grandfather?”
I nodded, amazed by her story. “Yeah. My grandpa’s great. It took me a little while to realize he was innocent of all the things I thought he knew.” I left that statement broad, not ready to tell her any more.
My mind started to formulate a plan involving grandpa and her dad. It really wasn’t fair for her father to continue to pay for a crime he never committed. “Do you talk to your grandparents?”
She shook her head. “Oh, no,” she said emphatically. “They disowned my mother when she chose to marry my father. When she tried to contact them after my birth, they told her never to call again. When she was going through cancer, and insurance couldn’t cover all the cost, my dad swallowed his pride and asked for their help. They turned him away, too.”
I saw a bright sheen of tears enter her eyes.
“If she had better treatment, she could have had better odds to beat the cancer,” she muttered.
I felt tears enter my own eyes in sympathy for her. I could never imagine turning my back on my child, especially over who they chose to love. I hugged her, knowing there were no words that could mend her wounded heart.
“Peyton Delaney,” I heard my name being called.
I turned to see a woman briskly walking towards me. She was a pretty woman, with beauty-pageant-girl looks. Her blond hair shone around her shoulders, her makeup was perfectly applied, and her smile was broad, straight, and bright white.
I looked at her in confusion, trying to figure out if I knew her.
“Can you tell us why you don’t have a bodyguard while your brother and sister have a bodyguard?” the woman began to ask rapidly. “Is it true that you are the illegitimate daughter of David Delaney, and that he couldn’t care less about your safety, even knowing that his sister Ava and his daughter Claire were taken? Do you think that’s just a coincidence? Do you think the kidnapper has a thing for pretty red headed girls and you could be next?”
It took me a moment to realize that she was followed by a man with a camera. I looked at her in stunned silence, feeling sick by her words. She was with a news network. Stupidly, I had hoped to be left alone, after Monday’s news conference.
I hoped they realized there were more newsworthy stories out there than my legitimacy and David’s decision to hire bodyguards for Dylan and Leah but not me.
Not that I wanted one! Grandpa had already tried, but I liked the system I had in place. Having one of the guys with me at all times seemed to be working for us. I really didn’t need a stranger following me around every day. Dylan’s bodyguard kept a reasonable distance, but it was hard to miss the six-foot-plus ex-army ranger. Leah’s bodyguard had already been fired for allowing her to slip his watch to vandalize my locker.
“Peyton,” the woman said, only a few feet away from me now. “Is it true your sister was on dating sites, posing as a much older woman? Do you think it’s possible she ran away with an older lover?”
“No comment,” Crew stated with forcefulness, coming from nowhere as he quickly placed an arm around both mine and Renee’s shoulders. He ushered us away outside and across the street, where a vehicle I didn’t recognize was running idle.
It wasn’t until I was safely ensconced in the passenger side that I realized that my hands were shaking. I tried to pretend everything was okay—it worked sometimes, but it was getting harder and harder. Fear, sympathy, and worry were my constant companions. They were there so often I wondered if I should name them. Even Notyep had been too silent lately.
There wasn’t a minute that went by that I didn’t wonder if I was the one Claire’s kidnapper wanted initially. Other thoughts ran in vicious circles in my head. But the most prominent one was: Was Claire okay?
No ransom demands had been made, and no one seemed to have heard from her since she vanished. The dogs had lost her trail on the property near the highway that ran parallel to our acreage. They believed the kidnapper had his vehicle stowed at what was once an old truck stop. They concluded he had been using it for a few weeks.
The property ran along with ours and hadn’t been utilized much since road construction had diverted traffic away from town approximately ten years ago. The original owners let it go and hadn’t done any upkeep on it in years. Weeds, grass, and even trees had reclaimed most of the parking lot, and the brick building that once housed a little diner, convenient store, and restrooms was in poor repair.
With traffic diverted, only the locals had kept it going long after the truckers stopped using it. It hadn’t been enough to keep it operational. The owners put it up for sale, and David had purchased it but saw no need to do anything with it yet. He primarily bought it as an investment, assuming his father would leave him everything when he passed away. David wanted to have more property attached to what he thought was going to be his.
Little did he know that Grandpa would alter his plans, and David’s secluded property had been a perfect place for the kidnapper to park behind the building. From that spot, he had been completely hidden from the highway. It was also convenient because of its proximity to our houses. All he had to do was hike through the woods to the little
shack where he had been waiting for me, or Claire, maybe even Leah.
At least I kept trying to convince myself that it was either one of us, but I knew instinctively that wasn’t the case at all. Leah had been questioned about possibly being followed, without being told about my incidences. With no hesitation, she informed the detectives no.
Claire wasn’t here to tell us if she had been followed prior to the abduction, but I knew the answer would have been no. She had been reckless, we had seen that with her internet hookups with older men, but would she have continued that behavior if she felt like someone was following her?
Catherine was on the warpath. Now that she had gotten over the shock of her daughter even being on those types of sites, she wanted to blame everyone but herself and Claire.
Of course, I had overheard all of this today. Bailey was gossiping loudly, and I had heard her earlier telling the girls all about her poor, devastated, and broken family.
She told everyone how Catherine was constantly popping anxiety medication and sleeping aids, that when she was lucid, she was demanding that each and every man that came in contact with Claire be arrested for corrupting a minor.
Claire’s online profile had said she was nineteen. She posed at the local college campus in university gear. She had a fake ID to back up her story. No one knew she had been underage. She talked a good game, and in most of the cases she had been the aggressor and sought out the men.
Bailey continued to tell everyone how Leah now had a private tutor until she could return back to school. She claimed Leah had been unfairly thrown out of school over a funny, harmless prank. I hadn’t missed the glare she sent me in the reflection of the mirror.
Bailey was a font of information, though. She told everyone how David took away Leah’s phone, car, television, and several other things. Bailey thought David was “losing it” and acting irrationally, that he was under a lot of stress because his dad had taken away part of his birthright, his daughter was missing, his campaign manager didn’t know if he should run for office next October, and a foreman at the job site had quit with no notice.
She made no mention of Grandpa and Dylan, but I knew Grandpa was struggling through it all. With help from the guys and Mr. Jenkins, they were trying to help Grandpa get through this. In fact, Kyler had taken him out to breakfast this morning, and Grandpa asked to tag along back to my house to help out. Kyler had been more than happy to have him there.
Apparently, Grandpa had dabbled in residential remodeling and building for some time and was a font of information for Kyler. Kyler also liked to pick Grandpa’s brain. Grandpa was only too happy to unload as much of his knowledge of business as he could on Kyler.
I hoped my grandfather could find solace in us, that we could help him get through this.
I just wasn’t sure my first impression of Dylan’s reaction to the situation was correct.
Dylan was quiet at school and was flying under the radar. I didn’t know if he was indifferent to it all, or if actually did feel his sister’s absence. At the press conference, I thought he was bored and apathetic, but after seeing him briefly in school yesterday, I wondered if it was more than that.
“Angel?” Crew said insistently.
I blinked over at him and realized he must have been trying to get my attention for some time. He had my hand in his and was gently squeezing it.
“Huh?” I asked, still feeling slightly dazed by being accosted at my dance studio.
Why was the media there? Why did they care who I was or why I wasn’t significant enough to protect from a potential threat? Who cared if my father wasn’t the one my mother was married to when she had me?
“I said I’m sorry I was late. There are news vans all over the school, too.” Crew grimaced. “Claire’s disappearance hit the national news networks. Now people are coming out of the woodwork. Grandpa had someone drop the car across the street from the school, and I had to run and get it after trying to shake off some eager reporters.”
I nodded, trying to figure out how to process all of this.
He turned into the school parking lot, and I could see the news vans lining the street and several cameramen and reporters milling outside of the school.
“The principal has us all staying inside. If anyone has classes in the gym or library, they have to go to the auditorium or cafeteria now.” Crew gave me a concerned frown. “Your Grandpa and Kyler brought us lunch when they dropped off the car. You grandfather wants you to call him. Mr. Isaacs will be meeting you girls at the door.” He looked up briefly into the review mirror. “He’s going to make sure you both get escorted inside without getting harassed by those vultures.”
I nearly forgot Renee was in the back seat. She was so quiet, and I doubt she had talked to Crew while I had been deep in thought. I started to laugh hysterically. The stress catching up to me. The idea of Renee and Crew being stuck in a car together struck me as humorous, because neither one of them would begin to talk without an outsider encouraging conversation.
I could lock them in a cabin together for a whole weekend and not be surprised if neither one of them talked the entire time. Both were listeners, not talkers, not unless spoken to. The silence was something they must have found refuge in.
“Angel,” Crew said with concern as he put the car into park.
I continued to laugh, unable to stop. Tears coursed down my face. My stomach hurt.
Renee leaned forward and slapped me. Crew glowered at her, but she seemed undaunted by it as she grabbed my face. “You’re okay,” she murmured to me resolutely. “You’re safe.”
I stopped laughing. I cupped my stinging cheek. Her words slowly sunk in, and I realized I’d had a mini freak out. I nodded and smiled at her gratefully. With her hands on my face, and Crews hand gripping me, I knew she was right. For now.
●
Mr. Isaacs opened our doors and promptly pulled me into the warmth of his body. He then put a guiding hand on Renee’s shoulder. He leaned over me protectively, and I breathed in his scent. I longed to close my eyes and hide inside of him.
I could hear the journalists getting closer. Mr. Isaacs quickened our steps.
“Sorry, Peyton,” Mr. Isaacs murmured. “Steve thought it would be better for you if you weren’t overexposed to the journalists.”
“Bye, Peyton,” Renee mumbled before running off.
Mr. Isaacs gave her a questioning look but didn’t attempt to stop her as she took off running.
I laughed dryly, feeling better after having my mini-meltdown. “I liked Crew’s analogy of vultures. I’m okay with not being anywhere near them.”
Mr. Isaacs gave me a faint grin. “That about sums them up.” He was still looking in the direction Renee had run off. “She’s a shy one. Is this another ‘Raymond Project?’” he teased.
I had befriended Raymond a few weeks ago. I asked him to take a selfie for me to mess with Kyler, and he had. Later that afternoon, I found Dylan and a few of his jackass buddies bullying him. I had intervened. I hated when people bothered others for their own entertainment.
I wasn’t used to Mr. Isaacs’ teasing, so I found myself laughing. “Yes, and no.” I shrugged. “What can I say? I have a thing for the underdogs. The only thing is, Renee doesn’t even realize that she’s a pedigree. You should see how much she changes on the dance floor. She’s like a caterpillar that transforms into a beautiful butterfly.”
His eyes lit up, and his straight, bright teeth flashed. “I’m gonna pretend I understand your analogies right now.”
I shook my head, laughed, and then mock sighed. “Oh Nellie, what did I tell you about taking your ginkgo biloba pills and adding some coconut oil to your diet? It’ll keep your mind sharp, and oh yeah, berries! Those are great natural remedies for your deteriorating memory and mind.”
He laughed, shaking his head as he placed a hand on my lower back, guiding me to the office. He lowered his head next to my ear. “I’m sorry Lindsey and Tori were so difficult. I also want to make
it clear that Lindsey and I were never involved, despite her implications otherwise. I wanted to text you, but…” his voice trailed off.
I placed my hand on his forearm and shook my head. “I know you can’t,” I said softly.
I understood why he couldn’t text me. I had received texts concerning the kids, but none of them were of a personal nature. It wasn’t like we had anything to hide, but we didn’t want to give anyone the impression that we did.
“The kids miss you,” he murmured. His piercing blue eyes conveyed what his mouth could not. Translation: I miss you.
I looked up into his eyes and longed to stroke his face. “I miss them, too,” I murmured in return, my tone full of meaning.
“Peyton!” Paxton came out into the hall and rushed me with a hug.
Our moment was done. I looked over at Mr. Isaacs and saw the same longing in his eyes that was probably in my own. One day, hopefully, we could freely express ourselves.
“Hey, Pax.” I laughed, trying to shake off my feelings. “What are you doing here?”
My mind still couldn’t wrap around the fact that I had distinctive feelings for all of them. There were places within me that they each fit.
“Lunchtime.” He looked down at his watch and grimaced. “But we have to hurry. The bell’s going to ring in fifteen minutes.”
I nodded and followed him into Mr. Isaacs’ office.
I noticed that Golden and Zane were already in there. I also saw that Mr. Isaacs had moved a round table in the middle of the room, and food was spread across it.
“Ugh,” I moaned as I eyed the subs and chips. “Doesn’t Grandpa realize I’m trying to eat healthy this week?”
The guys laughed at me as I took a seat between Paxton and Zane. I noticed the heat in Zane’s eyes before he took a chip out of his bag. Memories of last night flooded my mind. I tried to hide the blush on my cheeks. Did the others know?
“A sub sandwich isn’t that bad,” Golden teased as he took a large bite of his own sub.