Remington's Tower

by Katharine Sadler

  He looked over his shoulder at the guard behind him, before looking back at me, his expression wary. He studied me for a moment, and I felt like he could see right through me. “I’m not worth much, sugar, but one thing I’ve gotten real good at is reading people. I knew from the moment I met Arle that he’d be an easy mark, and I knew he was as likely to use the product as sell it, but I brought him into my world anyway. I took that man from his wife and kids as much as he took you from me.”

  I hadn’t thought about it that way, hadn’t realized my father was aware of what he’d done. “And Worthy?”

  He squinted at me, like he didn’t know me. “I know you’ve been raised by good god-fearing folk for the past twelve years, but don’t tell me you’ve gone so soft you’ve forgotten the credo.”

  “The what?” But then it hit me, a flow of words almost melodic. We are the family Vinton and we know what we know. We are no sheep and we do not bleat, we think and see and live for ourselves. We are the family Vinton. “I remember,” I said. “I was so into fairy tales and knights that you made a coat of arms and a family credo for us.”

  He chuckled. “I didn’t do much right, but I did do that. You get what I’m trying to tell you?”

  I slumped. “You’re telling me to use my own mind and to figure out what he’s made of.”

  “Your aunt Betty thinks the only reason I took you along on jobs was as a cover, but she was wrong.” He waved a hand. “Fuck. I mean, yeah, I used you as a cover, but I also used you to read people. You had a natural ability to tell who was for real and who was full of shit. I’m damn good at reading people, but you were better. You just have to push all the bullshit aside, forget your past, forget your insecurities, and really see the boy.”

  His words triggered a landslide of memories. I remembered watching the men and women he worked with, the people he conned. I watched how they moved and how they spoke, picking up on tells, and then reported it all back to my father. I’d been so proud, felt so strong. “But I was wrong once,” I said, another memory surfacing. “I told you the guys were legit and they weren’t. They almost killed you.” And he’d laid on the pavement bleeding and calling my name.

  He looked over my shoulder and blinked. “That wasn’t your fault, baby doll. You were right about them, it was me you were wrong about. I tried to pull one over on them and they caught me. You never could see me.”

  “I loved you,” I said, remembering and feeling an echo of that past emotion when I looked at his face. “I loved you so much.”

  “And I let you down. I’m sorry for that, but don’t let my mistakes ruin your present. Use that brain you have and choose better people than me to be in your life. You are a thousand times the better person than me, sugar, and you deserve to be happy.”

  I swallowed hard and wiped a tear from my eye. “Leon and Betty are getting married next weekend.”

  His smile was open and genuine. “It’s about damn time. She’s another one who deserves to be happy and that man makes her happy, for some reason I’ll never understand.”

  I laughed at that. “I’ll tell them you send them your regards.”

  “You do that.”

  “How are they treating you in here?” I asked. “You have everything you need?”

  He smiled. “I do just fine, sugar. There are games to be played in here, just like out there. Though I wouldn’t mind if you brought me some books next time you visit.”

  So we talked about books for a little while and what he’d study if he could go back to school. I left him and rejoined Byron in the truck, feeling more confused than I had before I’d seen my dad.

  ***

  Worthy seemed to figure out I was avoiding him, because I didn’t hear from him all the next week. I was studying and taking exams and working, and I tried not to think too much about him or the wedding.

  The day of the wedding was also the day I was heading home for Christmas break. I packed my bags, which Byron loaded into his truck when he arrived, and put on comfortable jeans and a sweater. I’d be changing into my maid of honor dress when I got to Betty and Leon’s new house. Worthy would have to hang out with Leon and Byron while I helped Betty get ready. Yet another part of the day I hadn’t really worked out. It might be kind of hard to keep an eye on Worthy and help Betty at the same time. Byron might help, but I didn’t fully trust him to keep a sharp watch on Worthy.

  Byron gave me a hug and headed out, since I was going to be riding to Aunt Betty’s house in Roanoke alone. I walked to Worthy’s house and let myself consider what I was doing for the first time all week. My stomach twisted and I felt an overpowering urge to run. I knew everyone else was right. Bringing Worthy to the wedding was the wrong choice for so many reasons. I considered texting him and cancelling my invitation, but that was too rude, even for me.

  The look on Worthy’s face, when he answered the door, almost sent me running. He looked angry and hard. There was no warmth in his eyes and, though his mouth was curved up in a smile, it was a scary smile.

  I wasn’t a coward, so I didn’t run. But I was a fighter, so I went on the defense. “You went to see my father without telling me.”

  He just continued to stare and I did what I always do when confronted by a guy who’s bigger and scarier than me, I threw my shoulders back and stared just as hard.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  “You said you’d go to my uncle’s wedding with me. It’s today.”

  “You’ve been avoiding me since you asked me to go. Care to explain that?”

  It was my turn to stare silently.

  He bobbed his head and his scary smile deepened. “Right. See, when you invited me, I thought you’d forgiven me and we’d be together again. I went to see your dad to make sure he was okay with us dating. I planned to talk to your uncle after the wedding. Only you didn’t respond to my texts or speak to me, you avoided me at every opportunity, and I realized that I’m a fucking idiot.”

  “You’re not an idiot,” I said, my voice a whisper. Tears stung the back of my eyes.

  He laughed without mirth. “No, I’m a complete and total moron for thinking you’d ever forgive me for what I did to you or ever be able to even look at the son of the man who held a gun to your head.”

  “I told you—”

  He waved me silent. “I’m an imbecile for not seeing how much you hate me. And I don’t blame you for hating me. I would hate me in your place. So you invited me to this wedding for what? Some sort of revenge of your own? Is there even a wedding, or were you planning to take me halfway to Roanoke and drop me off in the middle of nowhere?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Then please, Remy, tell me what it’s like. Tell me what I can do to fix this. You’ve made it clear you and I will never be what we once were. You’ve ripped my heart out of my chest, but apparently that’s not enough for you, so tell me what you need to feel that your vengeance on me is complete.”

  “I don’t want vengeance, Worthy. I just want…” But I didn’t know what I wanted and I knew that telling him anything before I was absolutely sure would only hurt him more. “I’m sorry, Worthy. I’m so sorry.”

  His expression softened just a tiny bit, but he squared his shoulders and hardened himself again. “Take what you need from me or leave me the hell alone. I can’t handle this anymore.”

  “I understand,” I said, my voice cracking over the last word. “I’ll leave you alone.”

  I turned and hurried down the hall so he wouldn’t see my tears. I texted Byron to let him know I’d need a ride with him after all, and I waited in front of my dorm for him to turn around and come back for me.

  I stood in the cold, wrapping my coat tight around my shoulders and pretended there weren’t tears streaming down my face. Pretended I hadn’t just hurt one of the few people in my life who gave their friendship and time to me unconditionally. I’m not sure if I fooled any of the people walking by, but I sure as hell didn’t fool myself.

 
“Want to talk about it,” Byron asked when I climbed into his truck. Snowflakes plopped on the windshield with wet smacks. I’d always loved the snow, but today it might as well have been ashes falling from the sky, everything and everyone seemed dark and ugly, most of all myself.

  “Not really.”

  Never one to be easily deterred, Byron forged ahead. “He figured out your nefarious scheme?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Byron.” I bit out each word, trying to maintain some semblance of civilized behavior.

  “Better dim the anger blaze, Sis, or you’re going to ruin Dad and Betty’s wedding.”

  Obviously he was right, which only made me more annoyed. My head started to ache right behind my eyes and my heart felt like a dead, black thing, a diseased rock in my chest. “He thought I invited him to the wedding and then blew him off for two weeks to hurt him. He actually suspected I was going to abandon him on the side of the road, rather than take him to the wedding.” I wanted to cry, to release the pressure in my head and my chest.

  “Well, you can be pretty scary,” Byron said, with a dry chuckle.

  He must have felt my glare, because he flinched without taking his eyes off the road. “But I don’t think his suspicions indicate what he thinks of you, I think they indicate what he thinks of himself.”

  “Want to rephrase that in English, sensei?”

  “Look, what I’m trying to say, grasshopper, is that you have every right to be pissed at him and he knows that. He lied by omission for months and his father tried to kill you. I know he’s got some cockamamie theory that you and Uncle Leon mistook his father’s intentions, but he’d have to be an idiot to really believe that, and he’s not an idiot.”

  “My uncle killed his father. I’d say we’re pretty close to even.”

  “So, you’re not mad at him anymore?” he asked.

  “Of course I am,” I said, my annoyance rising. “Or at least I was mad, but then he had to go and be all sweet and supportive when Frankie was hurt, and it reminded me of all the ways he’s been there for me these past few months. Yeah, he lied to me and probably manipulated me, but he never once made me feel bad about myself, not even when he found out Leon killed his dad. It’s hard to stay mad at him under those circumstances.”

  Byron nodded and waited, and my annoyance boiled over. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Byron, just say it.”

  “What I’m hearing is that he’s proven himself to you repeatedly, but you still don’t trust him. If you did, you wouldn’t have come up with this scheme to test him at Dad’s wedding.”

  I wanted to punch something, preferably Byron. “Maybe I don’t believe he can forgive Leon so easily for killing his father. Maybe I don’t want to put myself out there and get hurt when he realizes he can’t handle being around me.” I probably never would have uttered those words if I hadn’t been so angry and annoyed, but saying them made me feel lighter somehow.

  Byron nodded sagely. “Yeah, I can see that.”

  “And?” I really didn’t understand why Byron wanted to be a lawyer, he played the head shrinker game with such aplomb and obvious enjoyment. Though, if he were my psychiatrist, one of us probably wouldn’t survive, and my money was on him. Not surviving, I mean.

  “And you’re going to have to pull your head out of your ass and get back in the game, Remington, or you’re just going to keep hurting him. Either he’s worth the risk or he’s not. That’s what you have to figure out.”

  I wanted to text Worthy and apologize again, but Byron was right. I needed to keep my distance until I got my head on straight.

  “Look,” he said. “As much as I hate repeating myself, there are no guarantees. Yeah, you two have an unusually shitty past connection, but Worthy’s still here, actively trying to win you back. That says a lot.”

  “I can’t think about this right now, By. We’re going to be at Leon and Betty’s new place in a couple of hours and I need a major mood adjustment. Please tell me some funny stories.”

  Somehow, despite my protestations, all of Byron’s funny stories ended up being about or involving Worthy. And while I laughed, I felt the ache I’d buried rise up and almost swallow me whole. I missed him and, on some deep level, I’d always believed we’d figure a way through it and he’d be there for me. Now, I wondered if I’d screwed up so badly I’d lost him forever.

  The snow continued all the way into Roanoke, but the temperatures were still warm enough to keep it mostly off the roads. “Is this supposed to get worse tonight?”

  Byron shrugged. “I don’t exactly watch the weather channel every morning.”

  I pulled out my phone and went online to check the weather. “Holy shit. There’s like some huge storm of the century rolling in tonight.” Byron glanced at me and the fact that he didn’t tell me only whores and truckers swore like that indicated how concerned he was about my weather report. “Should we call Leon and ask him if he knows?”

  He wrinkled his nose and let out a long puff of air. “We can’t bother him with this on his wedding day. Call Keats.”

  I called my cousin and tapped my nails against the passenger side window. Keats and I weren’t particularly close. He’d been fourteen when I moved in with his family, and he’d been obsessed with football and girls. He was pissed at me for being the reason they had to move for about three seconds, until he made the team in West Virginia and discovered the school’s ‘hot cheerleaders.’ At least that’s how Tennyson told the story. Anyway, little eight-year-old me didn’t warrant a lot of his attention or time, though he’d always been kind to me and done his part to ‘toughen me up’ as my cousins referred to their incessant teasing.

  “Remington, shit,” Keats answered. “Please tell me you’re at Betty’s.”

  “We’re close. Where are you?” He was supposed to have arrived last night.

  “I was there, but Dad asked me and Tennyson to drive up to the house and get his truck. He ended up having to drive the moving truck and Betty drove her car, so there was no one to get his truck.”

  “So you’re on your way, then?”

  “We’re doing the best we can, but the roads are fucked and covered with idiots.”

  Keats was eloquent as always. “How far out are you?”

  “Just a couple of hours in normal conditions, but we’re moving about thirty-five miles an hour.”

  “Okay, just be careful and quit talking to me. Byron and I will take care of everything until you get here.”

  I filled Byron in and called Barrett. “Please tell me you’re almost here,” he said.

  “We’re almost there.”

  He let out a long sigh of relief. “Thank fuck…wait, are you fucking with me? Are you doing that thing where you just say what I want to hear?”

  Really, Barrett just made it too easy. “Barrett, sweetie,” I said, putting a southern accent far more refined than my native accent. “Would I do that to you?”

  “Please, Remington, I’m dying here. You need to get your asses here two hours ago.”

  The angst in his voice should have triggered my sympathy, but Barrett was only two years older than me and had teased me more than any of my other brothers. “We’ll do our best, but the roads are an absolute mess and Byron here is nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”

  Byron motioned for me to tone it down and rolled his eyes at my drama. He knew exactly what I was doing and he was trying to tell me how to play my own cousin. Me. The expert in tormenting Barrett.

  “Remington McKinney,” my uncle’s voice came over the phone. “What are you saying to your brother? He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

  I suspected Barrett was closer to a killing rage than passing out, but I knew how to play my uncle, too. “Oh, dear, I don’t know what could be wrong. I was just letting him know we’re about ten minutes away from your new house.”

  “Thank the good lord,” Leon said. “Betty is about to lose it over here. Half of her people can’t make it into town with t
he snow and the ones who live in town aren’t even sure they want to risk driving in this mess.”

  Byron’s truck slipped on the slick road and he swerved to bring it back under control. “The roads are pretty bad, Uncle Leon. We’ll be there soon and we’ll get it all figured out.”

  I hung up with my uncle and gripped the door handle hard. “Sounds like Aunt Betty’s pretty upset.”

  “I’d be more worried about Barrett, if I were you.”

  “Byron, this is serious. How far is the church and the reception hall from their house?”

  “I’m not sure. But it’s not going to matter. If it’s farther than walking distance, we won’t make it.”

  I squeezed the door handle tight as a car slid into our lane and back into its own within inches of hitting us. Byron didn’t even flinch. I focused on the problem of my aunt’s wedding to take my mind off my imminent death. “That doesn’t make any sense,” I said, thinking out loud.

  “There’s a layer of ice under the snow,” Byron said. “The first snow that fell melted on the warm road, then re-froze as the temperatures dropped. Then the snow on top of all of that made everything really slick. I’m even having a hard time staying in my lane.”

  “Thanks, By, but I’m talking about Leon’s truck. Keats and Tennyson went to get it because Leon couldn’t get the U-Haul and the truck to the new house, but don’t U-Haul’s have tow behinds?”

  He snorted. “It doesn’t make sense because you aren’t asking the right question.”

  “What?”

  “The right question is what did Dad pack on the U-Haul?”

  Byron pulled up in front of a cute, brick, ranch-style house and killed the engine. “Geez-us, Byron, just tell me.”

  “Well, Betty had most everything they’d need for the new house all ready, so Dad just packed his clothes, his guns, and the four-wheeler on the U-Haul. He used the tow behind for the snow mobiles.”