“You don’t say.”
April’s lips edged upward. A smile. Genuine and warm enough to be unnerving. “You’re not at all what I expected.” She picked up a scattered pillow, fluffed it and set it carefully back on the couch. “Unpretentious. Now it all makes sense.”
“What makes sense?” Because April certainly didn’t. It seemed the ruder Caroline was, the more this girl seemed to like her.
“Why Beck likes you so much.”
The mention of his name sent a wave of nervousness through her stomach. “We’re coworkers, that’s all.”
“And what are you and Ty?”
Ah. The real story behind why she came. Caroline pressed start on the coffee pot and joined April in the living room. “We’re friends.”
“So are we, which is why, despite my lack of sugar coating, I do have a tender side when it comes to the people I love. I don’t like to see them get hurt.”
She lowered herself to a chair. “You think Ty is hurting?”
“I think they both are. That was more than clear in Journey’s painting.”
It took her a second to process who April’s “both” referred to, but then she thought of the way Ty had fixated on Journey’s canvas, touching it, tearing up even. She’d asked him about his reaction on the way home, but he simply brushed it off as happiness that Journey had submitted her work after so many months of not painting. But there was no happiness in his body language, only pain and grief.
She’d dropped the conversation because it was none of her business. Just like it wasn’t now. “I’m sorry, April. But I don’t really understand what this has to do with me.”
“You seem to be the only person Ty’s willing to listen to right now. And after what Beck and I witnessed at the art show, I felt you needed to know what kind of history you’re walking into.”
Caroline met her gaze and tried not to flinch as she stared into the vivid depths of green. “What history?” The last thing she wanted was to parachute into the middle of drama. She had one clear goal in coming to Bentwood—to finish healing and to forget. Not to get sucked into another dysfunctional relationship.
“Ty and Journey’s.”
Caroline waited, still having no clue what April was referring to.
She tilted her head, her eyes bright with mocking amusement. “Is it normal for you to kiss a man you know nothing about?”
“What you saw was platonic,” she said with icy dignity. That stupid, reckless kiss. How was she supposed to explain its meaning when she didn’t fully understand it herself? “So feel free to assure Journey that I don’t intend to get in anyone’s way of happiness.”
“That’s just it, there’s not even room for you to get in the way. He’s already been standing there for over a year.” The sheer frustration in April’s tone mystified her as did the deep breath she took to remain calm.
April folded her hands together delicately and leaned her elbows on her stiletto-lifted knees. “Caroline, I didn’t come here to mark Journey’s territory. That’s a given… no offense.”
“None taken. Though again, I’m not sure what you want from me.”
“How much has Ty told you about his past?”
“Nothing really.” She hadn’t asked and he hadn’t offered. Their mutual respect for each other’s privacy another reason why the friendship worked so well. “And I really don’t think it’s any of my business.”
“A week ago I would have agreed with you, but unfortunately you landed right in the middle of our drama, so here it is, whether you want to know it or not. Ty’s mom died when he was sixteen, and since she was the only family on record, his fate was pretty much a group home. But the Kinders stepped up. They took Ty in, and all of us have tried to care for him like he was one of our own.” Emotion permeated her voice, a direct contrast to the hollow control she’d displayed all morning. “But Ty has never let his guard down. And this new brother he’s found, it’s just made his isolation worse.” April straightened, her face morphing back into cool detachment. “So, despite the fact that I loathe this next statement, I’ve come to plead with you. To help him before he succeeds in destroying every relationship he has.”
April stood, swift and graceful. “I don’t often over estimate people, so despite the fact that you’re looking at me like I’ve instructed you to hand deliver the moon, I have a feeling you’ll find a way to do it.” She stepped over an abandoned blanket and discarded shoes from the night before. “Oh, and here’s the card to my cleaning service.” She glanced disdainfully around the room before placing it on the end table. “My treat for barging in so early this morning.”
April left in a wake of perfume, asking Caroline for the impossible. Helping Ty meant being vulnerable. It meant exposing a past she was determined to keep hidden. But conviction came a heartbeat later, as powerful and pressing as April’s plea. How could she keep the truth from Ty when it had been the very thing to set her free?
Chapter 28
Tyler paced back and forth in front of the storage unit, chewing on the side of his thumbnail while the antique dealer meticulously inspected piece after piece from his grandfather’s collection.
Earlier, he’d cut open all the cardboard boxes and stacked the ones with loose papers and clothes in the corner. Now he wished he hadn’t been so prepared. Waiting around was doing nothing for his jittery nerves.
“Thank you again for coming on such short notice,” Tyler said, needing to fill the quiet.
Mr. Bakerfield grunted and scribbled on his clipboard.
Tyler had been surprised when he’d agreed to come on a Sunday. But then again, between Beck’s bombshell and finding a last minute hotel room, Tyler had practically begged.
Wiping away the sweat only partially caused by the heat, Tyler slid the last box near Mr. Bakerfield’s squatting position and moved the finished one to the other side of the small space.
The dealer was silent. No small talk, no questions. Just a few furrowed brows and a frown. Even worse, his vibes seemed to get more and more curt with each box Tyler shoved his way. Gone was his earlier joyous curiosity.
Unease needled its way under Tyler’s skin, working up to his heart. His grandfather’s collection had to be worth at least something substantial or else Dustin wouldn’t have targeted him.
“Well, I think I’ve seen about all I need to,” Mr. Bakerfield said, pocketing his glasses. His clipboard was now filled with multiple pages of inventory.
“Okay…” Tyler paused. “So, what are we looking at?” He hadn’t told the guy his concern about Norman being a target, just that he wanted to account for any significant items that should be protected.
“Well, you definitely have a few things in here that I’d recommend be insured, but can I be frank with you?”
“Of course. I want to know all I can.”
Mr. Bakerfield lifted the rim of his baseball cap and settled it back on his head again. “Your grandfather has the most extensive personal collection I’ve ever seen. Sometimes two or three of the same pieces. Even more, there’s damage done to several of them, scratches in careful rows, as if they were trying to, I don’t know, remove engravings or other distinctive markings. Others have been restored, and to the untrained eye, you can’t even tell they’ve been tampered with.”
Tyler felt his stomach knot. “What are you implying?”
“Nothing. I didn’t know the man and I’m not about to defame his character. I’m just sayin’ that it’s odd. That’s all. Most collectors like the story behind the antique. It’s what makes it so personal. But that aside, I’d say your grandfather’s collection is worth between forty and forty-five thousand dollars.” He handed Tyler the papers, each with his seal at the bottom. “Keep this in case something happens. But most insurance companies will want an extra rider policy for items valuing over $1,000. You have about fifteen of those. I’ve starred them on the list. I charge $50 for an official appraisal, so bring them by the shop if you want it done.”
; “Thanks. I appreciate it,” Tyler said in a daze. He knew all about rider policies. He also knew how to read people well, and the way Mr. Bakerfield avoided eye contact made it pretty clear he hoped Tyler would take his business elsewhere.
The man didn’t say so, but as far as he was concerned, Tyler had inherited a storage building full of stolen goods. And if it were true, then Dustin wasn’t just some guy taking advantage of an old man. The answer was far worse. His grandfather was a thief and Dustin, his partner.
“Um, can I ask you about one other thing?” Tyler could barely keep his voice from shaking.
Mr. Bakerfield turned. “Sure.”
“There was a pearl necklace originally in the collection. I gave it to my brother.” Tyler tried not to let the word clog his throat. “I didn’t get a great look at it, but I remember the name. Miki…something. They were a yellowish color. Not white like I expected.”
His brow shot up. “Mikimoto?”
“Yes. It had authenticity paperwork with it as well.”
“Son, if those were real, vintage Mikimoto’s, they could be in the range of five to seven grand. Pretty generous gift.”
“Yes, it was.” More like a very successful con. “Thanks for coming out so quickly.”
“No problem. Good luck.” The man nodded and walked toward his car.
Tyler stood immobile and watched as the appraiser set his equipment in the back of his car and slid into the driver’s seat.
The engine rumbled to life and still he couldn’t move. It wasn’t until the final speck of dust settled back onto the empty pavement that energy rushed into his muscles as if a stream of rage had been injected through a sharp needle.
Tyler tore through the storage unit, kicking, hurling, shattering. Box after box banged against the metal walls. The building shook from the beating, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.
He grabbed more, clothing, papers, whatever was in his path and hit the same spot in the wall over and over again. Papers floated down like feathers, coating the mess strewn across the concrete floor.
Heaviness in his heart caused his breath to come out in gasps. Not from the throwing but from the breaking.
He was still alone…forever a lost, forgotten soul.
There were no more boxes to throw, all now upturned and scattered. He cursed, desperate for another outlet, and covered his mouth, nausea climbing up his throat. He bent over to fight the dry heave.
A con. A damn con from the very beginning.
Cursing, he slammed his fist into the closest wall. Pain pierced his fingers, flooded into his wrist. He cursed again and crumpled to the floor, head in his hands, his heart racing so out of control he’d forgotten how to breathe.
He’d been the perfect target. A man so desperate for a family, he’d taken Dustin at his word. The only proof being that he’d known small details about his father.
Idiot.
Tyler remained hunched in the corner until his legs ached. He ran his hands over his face and pushed off the ground. Carnage surrounded him. The remainder of his grandfather’s legacy shredded in front of him.
There was no telling what truly belonged to him or what was stolen from some other pathetic sap who decided to trust an old man and his sidekick.
Unable to stomach the site of his worst nightmare, Tyler kicked through the brokenness to the threshold. He turned, pulled down the rolling door, and hid the terrifying proof that he’d given up everything to chase after a lie.
Chapter 29
Journey stretched her legs out in front of her, soaking in the warm springtime sun. The pool shimmered nearby, still too cold to take a swim, but crystal blue and deceptively inviting. They’d hit eighty degrees with no cloud cover and she was going to enjoy every drop of sunshine before the sun set in a few short hours.
Especially since she was avoiding her condo or more specifically, her best friend. The woman could spot deception in an instant, and Journey had crossed a very sharp, electrical line. Houston had not only called Sean, but had told her they had an interview scheduled next week.
Twice now, she’d stood up for what was right—telling Ty about Dustin and bringing Sean home. They were the harder choices. But making them gave her a strength she didn’t know she could possess. She’d spent her whole life needing others to validate her, and while that hadn’t completely disappeared, she did feel her own voice rising above the others, guiding her, telling her it was okay to be on her own.
The metal gate creaked and Journey eyed the invaders through her shades. Marilyn from the third floor, and her ogling boyfriend at her heels. Journey almost shut her eyes, ignoring them, when a careful “thank you” perked her ears.
She knew that voice, just like she knew the girl silently shutting the gate behind herself.
Caroline wore gym shorts and a tank top. Her hair was in a damp ponytail like she’d come from the gym and in her arms was a towel and a book.
Journey waved, suddenly embarrassed that she hadn’t thought much about their new condo resident since she’d met her at Beck’s party. She was usually much more friendly, and should have checked on her at least once to make sure she was settling in okay.
Maybe Caroline thought the same thing, because she seemed hesitant to wave back.
Unfazed by the brush off, Journey motioned for Caroline to join her, pointing to the empty lounger on her left.
Her new neighbor conceded, walking over.
“Hey, you’re Caroline, right? We met at Beck’s promotion party.”
“And you’re Journey.” She carefully laid her towel across the plastic chair. “It seems my world is very small today.” The chair scraped the concrete as Caroline lowered herself into it. “I met your friend, April, this morning.”
Journey winced. “Do I need to apologize?”
Caroline smiled and seemed to relax a little. “Maybe. I’m still deciding if I was complimented or insulted. They both seemed to morph into the other.”
“Yes, I’ve been there, though she really is a lot softer than she lets people see.” April had always been a spitfire, but her and Sean’s break up had manifested into a coldness even Journey couldn’t break through. “She’s had a rough year.” She didn’t give more details and Caroline didn’t seem too eager to ask so Journey changed the subject. “How is the new place?”
“It’s great. I really love it.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t come by. I’ve been super busy with the art festival, not that that’s a very solid excuse. But I usually am much more neighborly.”
“I think it’s a good excuse,” she said warmly. “I saw your painting and it was really spectacular.”
“Oh..um…thank you.” Journey stared at her magazine, flipping pages. She barely read a word, but it kept her from cringing at the idea that Caroline had seen her work. This year’s art festival was the only one she’d ever skipped, unwilling to stand there while person after person dissected and criticized the most vulnerable piece she’d ever done.
“I took art lessons once.” Caroline chuckled, but it seemed seeped in pensiveness. “I really was terrible at it. No eye for color at all.”
Journey put down her magazine. “I’m sure it’s not that bad. I’ve had lots of students who don’t think they can paint, but they always end up finding some story to tell.” Or at least, that’s what she’d been doing. Her painting had highlighted her greatest triumph and soul-aching lament—letting Ty go.
Caroline snuggled down in her chair and closed her eyes. “It’s gorgeous out here. We barely get any days like this in Lubbock. It’s either blazing hot or viciously windy.”
An obnoxious laugh floated from the other side of the pool and both girls opened their eyes to see way more PDA than anyone would want to from the other couple at the pool.
Caroline sat up, crisscrossing her legs so that she faced Journey. “Can I tell you something?”
“Yeah, sure.” Journey sat up as well and faced her new friend.
“April came by to s
ee me to talk about you. Well, you and Ty specifically, but based on the closeness I can tell you two have, I imagine her greater motivation was your protection.”
“Why would April—”
“Because I’ve been spending time with him. As friends. Although…” she rolled her eyes like she wanted to throttle herself. “I may have skewed the lines a little. Not intentionally.”
Tightness curled in Journey’s chest. “Do you have feelings for him?”
Caroline went silent, but it was the type of silent that told Journey she was sorting her thoughts, not hiding them. “It’s hard to explain.”
Her stomach sank. “I get it.” To be fair, she had no rights to him anymore. No justification for the jealousy coursing through her.
“No, I don’t think you do. My feelings aren’t romantic, and I’m sorry that April misunderstood.”
“She’s always looked out for me. Especially if she thinks I might get hurt.” Journey shrugged and chastised herself when a sting came to her throat. “But thank you for clarifying with me. I wish I could say I didn’t care, but I do, and truthfully, I’m relieved that you two are only friends.
As if to further assure her, Caroline leaned forward. “We are. In fact, I think that’s what I like most about Ty. I feel free when we hang out. It’s easy, like we’re family.”
The aching way she said family rattled something in Journey’s chest. “I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for you, moving to a new town. Starting over. April’s been my best friend since I was five.”
“That’s nice.” Caroline pulled her legs to her chest. “I’m not really in contact with any of my old friends. They gave up on me a while ago.”
Until I Knew Myself (Bentwood Book 1) Page 19