The Year of Second Chances (Sunnyvale Alternative #3)

by Jessica Sorensen

  “Better?” she asks, and I nod. “Good.” She forces a tense smile.

  “There’s more, isn’t there?” I ask through a sniffle.

  She hesitantly nods. “But it can wait if you don’t think you can take any more today.”

  I shake my head. “I want to know.

  She sighs and heads back to her mixing bowl. “I’m going to make this while I finish telling you. That way, when I’m done, there’ll be a yummy cake to put in the oven.” She picks up the measuring cup and adds another scoop of flour. “After your father told me about the house, I asked him about what happened to your mom. When he refused to tell me, I told him about the stuff Kai found out.”

  “Let me guess.” I struggle to keep my voice even. “He denied it was true.”

  Shaking her head, she reaches across the counter and pats my hand. “He broke down, sweetie. He started crying and told me she was in jail, that he felt guilty she was there.”

  My stomach ravels into tight knots. “Guilty? Why?”

  “I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me. But it’s definitely true … what Kai found. And there’s more…” She gulps. “I found out who your mom was accused of… killing.”

  “I know that already,” I say in a strained voice. “Kai found out about it a few days ago.”

  “How did he…” She shakes her head. “You know what. Never mind. I don’t want to know.” She sighs heavily. “So, how are you feeling about all of this? I know that might be a dumb question.”

  “I’m fine,” I lie, picking at a crack in the countertop. “But grandma…How did you not know about Lynn’s son? Didn’t you ever meet him?”

  She shakes her head, her jaw ticking. “Your dad met Lynn right after we got into a huge fight over some inherited money. He thought he was owed more, which he wasn’t. And the papers were proof of that. But your dad being your dad… Well, he got upset and cut me out of his life for quite a while. We didn’t talk for a long time and by the time he finally came back into my life, things had already happened.” Her hands tremble. “I don’t know why your father chose to keep all of this a secret. I really don’t. Whether he was protecting you or if there’s more to the story than even we know.”

  “I wonder that too.” Worry and anger stir inside me.

  My dad kept so much from everyone. But why? To protect me? For some reason, I feel doubtful. And why did he tell my grandma that he felt guilty? Guilty over what? I need to find out what happened. And not from the papers on Kai’s phone. Not from any papers, period. I need to find out from the person who knows what really happened.

  “Grandma … I have to ask you for a favor. A huge favor, actually.”

  She hesitates, reluctant. “Okay.”

  I summon a deep breath. “I want to go visit my mom.”

  Her expression crumbles. “I don’t really think that’s such a good idea.”

  My heart aches with disappointment. “Why not?”

  “Because she’s in jail. And it’s far away. And …” She cleans off the flour on her hands with a dishrag. “I just really don’t want you going there.”

  “But I need to talk to her,” I practically beg, tears welling in my eyes again. “I need to hear her side of the story; otherwise, it’s going to drive me crazy … And I want to meet her … I don’t even remember her at all. What kind of a daughter does that make me?”

  She rubs her hand across her forehead, leaving a trail of flour on her skin. “I don’t want you going to a jail to talk to her, but what I can do is get ahold of some people and see if we can arrange a phone call.”

  While I want to see her, I don’t want to upset my grandma by doing so, so I nod, feeling a droplet of relief plink through me.

  “Thanks, grandma.” I walk around the island and give her a hug. “I really appreciate it.”

  She hugs me back. “You’re welcome. I just hope this helps and doesn’t make things worse.”

  “It will,” I say, hoping my words are true, hoping my mom is innocent.

  Deep down, a part of me fears that maybe she is guilty.

  Chapter 6

  Kai

  I can tell Isa’s grandma wants to talk to her alone, so I wander outside to give them some privacy. I need to make a call, anyway. That part wasn’t a lie. And it’s a call I definitely don’t want Isa to overhear.

  After I exit the apartment, I dial Kyler’s number while hiking down the sidewalk toward nowhere in particular. The scent of rain lingers in the air, remnants of yesterday’s crazy-ass rainstorm that flooded the grass and gutters, causing panic throughout the town. But the storm only lasted a few hours before the clouds cleared and the sun started working to dry up the mess.

  “Hello?” Kyler answers the phone, sounding exhausted.

  “You and I need to have a little chat.” I get straight to the point.

  “About what?” He goes from exhausted to annoyed in two seconds flat.

  “Not over the phone.” My boots splash in the mud puddles as I pace the length of the sidewalk. “I want to talk to you in person. Can you meet up with me tomorrow afternoon?”

  “I have practice from three until six and classes from nine until three on both Monday and Tuesday. I could do it Friday night, but I have a date with Isa at seven,” he says smugly. “But if you want to meet up, we can do it later … unless the date goes well.”

  I roll my eyes. Of course he would think it’s a date.

  “All right, how about we meet up at eight?”

  “I know you don’t go out on a lot of dates, but for future reference, you should probably know that they usually last more than an hour,” he replies in his typical douchebag, I’m-better-than-you tone.

  I grind my teeth, battling back the compulsion to put him in his place. “How about nine, then? She usually can’t stay out very late.” Lie. But he probably doesn’t know that.

  “Fine,” he agrees reluctantly. “But if she wants to stay out later, I’m going to blow you off. Sorry, man, but that’s just the way it works.”

  “Fine by me.”

  “Okay, talk to you Friday, then.”

  “Wait a sec. I’m not done yet.”

  He heaves a sigh. “What else do you want? Money? A place to stay? I know you need both.”

  “No, I don’t, actually. I just got my own place.” Which is true. I got the text from my friend Jules a couple of minutes ago, telling me I can move in with him in two weeks, and he’ll let me crash there for two weeks for free before he starts charging rent. “And I have money. I got a job a few days ago.” That part’s total bullshit. I haven’t heard back from any of the places I applied to. I’m trying to convince myself it’ll take a few days, but it’s hard to be patient when I have T’s threats hanging over my head. My only hope left is that my friend will be able to sell some parts off my trashed car, an idea he came up with when I told him I owned the car. Who knows if he’ll be able to make enough cash and fast?

  God, I fucking hope so, or else I’m screwed as shit.

  “That’s good,” Kyler says, drawing my attention back to the conversation.

  He seems like he means what he says, but I never know for sure with him. Sometimes, he can come off as the nicest guy ever, only to set me up for some trick or joke. And I can’t help but think of that phone call he just had with Isa, how he asked her questions about her mom. How Isa said she heard Hannah in the background. When she told me that, my suspicions of him grew even more.

  “I know we don’t get along, but I don’t want you living on the streets or anything.”

  His words almost make me feel bad for what I’m about to say, but not enough to stop me from saying them.

  “Look, I just wanted to say—or kindly threaten, anyway—that you better not do anything to hurt Isa, or I’m going to pay you back big time.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” he snaps.

  I sneak a glance over my shoulder at the apartment door, making sure Isa hasn’t wandered outside. “It means that, if I find out you
have done anything or plan on doing anything that will hurt or has hurt Isa, I’ll find a way to make you hurt a million times worse.”

  He gives his response a long amount of thought, and I actually—and very stupidly—start to think he’s going to confess that he did play a part in the flyer incident. That he did take the photo of Isa. That he set her up.

  Instead, he warns in a low, threatening tone, “That’s a pretty big threat for someone whose ass I’ve kicked a million times.”

  “I’m not the same guy as I once was,” I retort. “You couldn’t shove me in a locker if you wanted to, and if you tried, I’d kick your ass.”

  “Is everything okay?” Isa asks from right behind me.

  Shit. She wasn’t supposed to hear this conversation.

  “I have to go,” I tell Kyler. “See you on Friday.” I hang up and turn around.

  “Yeah, everything’s fine. I was just talking to my brother about some stuff.” I assess her, noting the heartbroken look on her face and her bloodshot eyes. She’s been crying. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She tentatively chews on her lip. “I came out here to tell you that you can come back in now.”

  “Well, that’s good.” I force humor into my tone. “I was worried maybe you weren’t going to let me, that you’d be glad to get rid of me, lock the door, and throw away the key.”

  “I’d never be glad to get rid of you.” She offers me the tiniest smile, and my heart skips a beat.

  Seriously, your heart skips a beat, Kai? What the heck is wrong with you?

  Her grin broadens as she reaches out and takes my hand. “So, I was thinking that maybe we could …” Her gaze darts toward the parking lot, and her skin pales as her eyes widen. “Crap. The blue car’s here.”

  “What? Where?” I spin around, moving so swiftly I slip in the mud and nearly land on my ass. Thankfully, Isa has ahold of my hand and stops me from looking like a complete dumbass.

  “Over to the right,” she hisses, clutching my hand. “Just a little way up the street in front of that abandoned brick house. At least, I’m pretty sure it’s the same car. I’d have to see the back window to be sure. The one that’s been following me has a Superman sticker there. Maybe I can go check. It doesn’t look like anyone’s in there.”

  My eyes travel to the car, and I instinctively put my arm out and nudge her back behind me. “Go back inside the house and have your grandma call her detective friend.”

  She grips the sleeve of my shirt. “Why? What’re you going to do?”

  “I’m going to head around the back of the apartment and sneak around to the street,” I say, shoving my phone into the back pocket of my jeans, “and see if I can get a plate number.”

  “No.” Her fingernails stab into my arm as she tries to haul me back into the house. “I’m not letting you do that. It could be dangerous.”

  “Isa.” I twist to face her, but she refuses to let go of my sleeve, and her arm ends up wedged between us. “We need to find out who it is.”

  “I know that.” Her eyes flicker in the direction of the car then back to me. “I’ll go around back and check. This is my thing.”

  “Like hell, I’m going to let you do that!” I latch on to the hem of her shirt. “You go inside and get the detective. I’ll go get the plate number.”

  “No. You go inside.”

  “Isa—”

  “Kai, just stop—”

  I crash my lips onto hers, silencing her. She moans, and good God, I want nothing more than to stay. But I need to get that plate number. So, before she even has a chance to react, I pull back and run like hell for the back of the apartment.

  “Kai!” she yells. “Stop! Oh, my God, you’re so stubborn!”

  I keep running, my boots kicking up mud as I round the side of the two-story apartment and hop over the fence that separates the apartment from the road. A wall of tall grass lies on the other side, giving me the perfect spot to duck down.

  Hunkering down, I glance down the road at the brick house and then at the car. Not a single sign of anyone, but that makes me feel even more uneasy.

  Flattening the grass to the side, I poke my head out and spot the Superman sticker on the back window of the blue car. I hurriedly dig my phone out and squint at the license plate number as I inch my way out of the grass. But pause when someone wearing a creepy ass black and white mask barrels out from the back of the house. I expect them to run for the car, but instead, they race down toward the field to the side of the house and duck into apartment complex on the corner.

  WTF.

  Scratching my head, I start across the road, slowing down when I can make out the numbers on the license plate. I take a photo of it and then punch the numbers into my phone just to be on the safe side.

  “You’re so going down, asshole,” I say, punching in the last digit. “I can’t wait to find—”

  The door swings open, and a thinly-haired man wearing a button-down collared shirt and slacks climbs out of the car. He has what looks like a Taser in his hand.

  I’d be scared except for the fact that he looks like he’s about to piss his pants.

  “Look, I don’t know what you’re doing”—he marches toward me—“but I don’t want any trouble. So, just erase my plate number from your phone, and everything will be cool.”

  “Cool?” I give him a you’ve-got-to-be-shitting-me look as I put the phone into my back pocket. “You’ve been following around one of my best friends for weeks now. Things were not cool a long time ago.”

  He aims the Taser at my arm. “Don’t make me use this—”

  I swat the Taser out of his hand, and it flies across the street, landing in the tall grass. Then I cross my arms and arch my brow.

  “You were saying?”

  The guy backs away from me with his hands elevated in front of him. “Look, I don’t want any trouble.”

  I step toward him, giving him my best menacing look. “Then tell me why you’ve been following Isa around. And who the hell that person was wearing the mask.”

  “Mask? I have no clue what you’re talking about.” He appears utterly baffled as he reaches for the door handle to bolt, but I stride forward and slam my hand against the door.

  He gulps, withdrawing his trembling hand from the door.

  “Fine. I’ve been following her around because that’s what I was hired to do. But I don’t know anything about a person wearing a mask.”

  I’m unsure if I believe him about the mask part, but decide to focus on the other problem. “Who hired you to follow her around?”

  “Bella Larose.”

  My lips part in shock. “What?”

  “Kai! What’s going on?” Isa asks as she jogs across the street. She slows down as she nears us, her gaze bouncing between the guy and me. “Who’s this?

  “I’m not sure yet.” My gaze lands back on the dude. “He was just about to tell me.”

  The guy looks back and forth between us then lowers his head in defeat. “I work for your mother’s lawyer. I’m supposed to be randomly checking in on you to make sure you’re okay. But you weren’t supposed to know that. Or, well, your father isn’t supposed to know, and she worried you might tell him.”

  Isa’s lips curl. “I don’t tell my father much of anything.” She sticks out her hand. “Can I see some proof that you are who you really say you are?”

  The man fumbles as he reaches inside his pocket and takes out his wallet. “My name is Garth Evertingson. I work for this law firm.” He hands Isa a card. “You can call the number on there and check out my story if you want.”

  I slant to the side and skim over the card. “I think he might be telling the truth,” I whisper to Isa. “I recognize these names and numbers from some of the files.”

  She traces her thumb over the card, looking back up at Garth. “You said you’re working on my mom’s case?”

  “Kind of.” The man slips his wallet back into the pocket of his wrinkled slacks. “I’m more of an assis
tant. I was assigned to come out here and keep an eye on you.”

  Isa chews on her lip, deliberating. “Why? Because Lynn’s a suspect? Are they worried she might do something to me?”

  His eyes enlarge, and he scuffs his shoes against the asphalt as he jerks back. “Where did you …? How did you …? You aren’t supposed to know …” He collects himself, coughing into his hand. “Look, I don’t know how much you know, but there are certain details of the case I can’t discuss with you. And honestly, I don’t really know that much. I’m kind of like an errand guy right now.”

  “You mean, details like my stepmom being a suspect?” Isa asks, patting the card against her palm. “Or why you’ve been following me around?”

  He heaves a frustrated sigh. “If you really want to talk to someone about this, I’d suggest visiting your mom.” He yanks open the car door. “I know she’d really like to talk to you. She’s allowed to have visitors, but from what we’ve been told, you don’t want to see her.”

  Isa’s hands curl into fists at her side. “That’s a lie. I never even knew about any of this until a few weeks ago.”

  “Really?” he asks, and she nods. “Well, I think Bella would really like to hear that. She was under the impression you never wanted to see her.”

  “Probably because my dad told her that,” Isa says flatly. “I’d say I was surprised, but I’m not.”

  He gives her a sympathetic look. “Yeah, I’ve read the file on your father. He seems like a real piece of work.”

  “He really is.” Isa squints against the sunlight with a pucker at her brow. “My grandma’s trying to set up a call with my mom. I don’t know how she’s going to do that, but maybe you guys could point her in the right direction.”

  “Have her call that number on the card and talk to my boss.” He ducks his head and slides into the driver’s seat. “I have to go. I was supposed to be discreet about being here, so I would really appreciate it if this little conversation stayed between us.”

  “So, you’re going to stop following me, then?” Isa asks, folding the card in half.