“Not everyone at Meyer, Fincher and Marks is as loyal to him as he’d like to think,” she replies. “My dad passed the North Carolina Bar but was coming in as a paralegal. He’s had some trouble moving up in his career. He’s got a bit of a…gambling problem. He knew Meyer wouldn’t handle the application or interview process for that, so my dad got through the interview and then paid an old college buddy at the firm $500 to clear the background check. No red flags meant that Mr. Meyer wouldn’t even know he was there until long after Dad had his desk all set up.” Wow. Looks like Mr. Meyer and Mr. Reynolds are cut from the same cloth. Get whatever you want at whatever the cost.
“Ok. Let’s get back to how you stabbed Will in the back,” I say. Claire gives me a disapproving look for my lack of grace but since I’m not in a forgiving mood right now I don’t back down.
“I deserve that. I know I hurt Will. I didn’t want to hurt him. I really did care about him, Layla. Under any other circumstances I think we could have been good together. But…Will and I weren’t meant to be. He would never have found you if I had stuck around. You were so good for him,” Holly says smiling genuinely. “Marcus told me how you and Will defied his father so you could be together. I’m glad you had the time with him that you did.”
“So the plan was to get Will’s father to pay your family off to leave town and to leave Will alone?” I can’t reply to her statements about Will and me. She knows she hurt him and let him effectively die without knowing the truth. I momentarily ponder the idea of telling him what a conniving witch Holly really is, but quickly come to the determination that it would change nothing. He’s never going to see her again, and I’d rather him live the rest of his life under the assumption that Holly’s intentions were always pure.
“It wasn’t necessarily to pay us to leave, but for my mother to squeeze more money out of him. Considering how much Mr. Meyer paid them, my parents were fine with the stipulation that we move. I think Mr. Meyer would be surprised to know that my mother was better suited for him than he realized. She would have spent the rest of her life as the woman he wanted her to be. I love my mother, but she’s not a good person. As soon as I graduated I was out the door. I had a job and an apartment close to campus and have been moving on with my life. My parents are still in Charlotte, but I haven’t spoken to them since I left home.”
“So Marcus is broken and you think I can fix him?” I’m full of questions but can only manage to digest one answer at a time.
“No. Marcus had always been satisfied with his life. He never wanted anything that the Meyers had. But when you came along and chose Will, well…”
“So this is my fault?” I bellow in interruption. “You have got to be kidding me right now.” I can feel my face getting hot. I can’t believe she’s actually insinuating that I sent Marcus over the edge by choosing Will over him. He wasn’t even a choice!
“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m sorry. I’m not being clear.” I give Holly a moment to think and choose her words a little more carefully as she presses on. I’m also giving myself time to calm down. “Marcus could handle you choosing Will. What I’m saying is that each of these things separately – my mother’s conniving, Mr. Meyer’s repeated rejection, Will’s acceptance by his father, you choosing Will – they’re all manageable to different extents. But if you roll them all into one, it was just too much for Marcus to take.” I take a deep breath and digest her words. I can understand what she’s saying. Each of the things I’ve experienced in my life – Mom and Dad’s death, life with Gram and Gramps, losing Will – had they not all piled one on top of the other, my life may have been very different.
“Will didn’t have anything more than Marcus. His father didn’t love him. He was a game piece in building the Meyer empire. Marcus and Will wanted the same thing: a father who loved and accepted them. If Marcus could understand that, he’d know that Will’s life wasn’t perfect,” I say softening my tone. I feel bad that I laid into her like that. I won’t apologize, but I’ll move forward in the conversation a bit more gently.
“He knows Will’s life wasn’t perfect. But a father, one who acknowledged him as his son, hugs and kisses aside, would have been better than what my father offered him.” Holly sighs matter-of-factly. “Listen Layla, I’ve been through enough therapy over the last year to understand just how jacked up my family is. Marcus has been starving for love his whole life. My mother has spent her life so focused on this vendetta that she missed out on what an amazing person Marcus became, despite her. And my father was so blinded by his own selfishness that he lost out on the gift of having a son.
“Then you came along and the real light inside Marcus came on. He called me the day you met and told me he had just met the girl who was going to change his life. I could always tell when Marcus had seen or talked to you; he was happier, lighter. And from what I understand from your aunt, you did that for Will, for everyone. Don’t you see, Layla. You’re the redeeming factor. You brought love and hope to Will’s life. Marcus wants that, too.”
“Let me get this straight. I fell in love with Will and changed his life, and now, because I did that for Will, I’m responsible for changing Marcus’ life, too? I told him that I’m trying to move on and that I don’t care for him like he cares for me. I would have been happy to be a part of Marcus’ life if he hadn’t gone all Fatal Attraction on me.” So much for proceeding gently.
“No, Layla. No one expects you to be responsible for Marcus. When Holly told me everything, it helped put things in perspective. Marcus really has lost his connection with reality. He’s been rejected his whole life, and the one thing he’s fixated on as the solution to his heartache isn’t coming to him,” Claire offers in her usual calming manner. She’s leaning forward, trying to add emphasis to her words.
“I want to help Marcus. Despite everything, I still care about him as my friend.” I say in a softer tone than my last comment. “Does he know you’re here?” I ask Holly.
“No. He didn’t know I was coming. I knew I needed to get here as fast as I could when my father discovered two of his guns were missing. The last time I saw Marcus he said that sometimes in order to get what we want, we have to resort to drastic measures. I didn’t really have a plan. I just thought I would find you when I got here and figure it out from there. I was afraid if I tried to contact you ahead of time that you wouldn’t want to see me. I really just want to help, Layla,” Holly pleads.
“We appreciate that, Holly. Thank you for everything,” Claire says before I can ask any more questions.
The room is silent for a few long moments while I think about everything Holly’s just told me. I know there’s an answer here somewhere. And while I run through the beginning of just a few plans, I keep going back to what I said earlier. “Let me talk to him,” I say.
“No. That’s not happening,” Luke replies instantaneously, his eyes fixed on mine, driving his directive home. He and Furtick have been silent this whole time. I can’t imagine what they’re thinking.
“How else are we supposed to get to him? No offense, Holly, but you really think you’re going to get him to back off? Let’s be real here. If you could have kept him in Charlotte, you would have, right?” Holly nods, seemingly put off by my approach. “If anyone is going to have any impact on the situation with Marcus, it’s going to be me. Look at what I was able to get from him today. Let me meet with him again.”
“I said no, Layla. Today was it. Now that we know more from Holly there’s no way I’m letting you near him. He’s having a mental breakdown and there’s no telling what he’ll do. We’ll figure out how to get him out of town and have him followed for the rest of his life if we have to. Having you sit face to face with Marcus is more than a last resort. Do you understand me?” Luke’s tone is strong and a little frightening. I’m trying to put myself in his shoes. Knowing how freaked out I was earlier today I can’t blame him for being as protective as he is, but it just doesn’t seem fair. Everyone else was allowed to
risk so much for Will and me to be together. Why won’t they let me do the same?
“So we’re just supposed to spend the rest of our lives navigating through the fields of how do we protect Layla this time?”
“I said no, and that’s final. Do you understand?” Luke’s eyes are burning with rage and I can see that now, more than ever, he is not going to back down.
“I understand what you’re saying,” I say. The wheels in my head are still turning though. I’ve got to figure this out.
“Well, now that we’re all on the same page, let’s take a breather. There’s a lot here to digest. I’ll make us something to eat and we can take some time to think about how we can best help Marcus.” Claire stands in a soft command for us all to follow.
As we shuffle into the kitchen, I watch Holly. I haven’t decided if I like her, or if I even need to have any feeling toward her other than gratitude for the insight she’s given us into Marcus’ life.
Claire fixes a few plates of fruit, vegetables, cheeses, crackers, and nuts. Everyone else munches but I just can’t eat. I feel like I should have an answer; there’s something I should be able to do or say that will bring Marcus back to reality. Surely the Marcus who knows in his heart of hearts that Gregory Meyer is the Devil himself, a man to be despised and not followed, is in there somewhere.
I step quietly out of the room, take my phone out, and pull up my contacts. There he is: Marcus Reynolds. I stare at his name for a moment before I touch Send Message. I quietly ask Luke for forgiveness as I begin typing in silence thanks to having put the phone on vibrate.
Layla Weston: Can we talk?
Marcus Reynolds: Of course. I’m pleasantly surprised to hear from you.
His response comes almost immediately.
Layla Weston: I need to know what happens in three days?
Marcus Reynolds: Technically it’s now two and a half days.
Layla Weston: Cut the crap.
Marcus Reynolds: Touchy. Where’s your sense of humor?
Layla Weston: What happens in two and a half days?
I don’t have time to entertain his wit so I don’t respond to his comment.
Marcus Reynolds: I take possession of what is mine.
Layla Weston: Meaning me.
Marcus Reynolds: Meaning you.
Layla Weston: How exactly do you plan on doing that?
Marcus Reynolds: I’d prefer to talk about this in person.
I take a moment before I reply. I don’t want to disrespect Luke, Claire, or Furtick and all they’re doing to protect me, but I just can’t feel so useless and helpless anymore. I have to do something. I take a deep breath and begin to type.
Layla Weston: Meet me tomorrow at the campus coffee shop at 1:00.
Marcus Reynolds: With pleasure.
What’s done is done. Furtick is monitoring my phone, so I know I have to get to him before he tells Luke or Claire what I’ve done. I walk back to the kitchen doorway and wait. Furtick is in his usual unengaged, observing state. He’s scrolling the screen of his phone impassively. When he stops, he immediately looks up at me and nods his head once.
He’s on board.
Chapter 18
I spend the first half of the ride to campus wondering if I should ask Furtick why he didn’t flip out at my texting Marcus and the other half figuring out how to beg Luke’s forgiveness. Furtick didn’t even flinch as he read the texts. He knew I would follow through with or without him. There’s no way I couldn’t. Reneging on an arranged meeting with Marcus has the potential to escalate the situation into whatever is worse than DEFCON 1.
“Are you mad at me?” I ask Furtick softly.
“Not entirely,” he answers curtly.
“Why not?” I thought for sure he would be.
“Because despite how asinine this idea is, I agree with you. Marcus isn’t a computer I can hack into, and he’s too unstable to respond to my other tactics. The only way we’re going to really know what’s going on is to get it directly from him,” he says, concentrating his eyes on the road. I smile just a little knowing that Furtick and I think the same way.
“But you are a little bit angry with me,” I say. I want to give him the opportunity to be honest with me. I’m hoping our past conversation gives him the confidence to be honest with me now.
“Yes,” he replies with the same curtness.
“Why?” I sound like a four-year-old.
Furtick is silent and unresponsive for a moment before his face softens and he answers. “Because I care about what happens to you, Layla. Marcus is unpredictable and I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you, especially on my watch.”
“Thank you, Wes.” I say nothing else knowing Furtick doesn’t like to get emotional. He’s let out enough already and I don’t want to make him uncomfortable by eliciting anything more. I know that he associates his protection of me to his own daughter. That’s not easy for him and I’m having pangs of regret that I’ve just done that to him, as well as Luke and Claire when they find out about this.
I have a pretty breezy morning in class as this is my light day, which is great since I haven’t been able to concentrate on anything but my meeting with Marcus. I’ve got English 201 and Sociology of the Family. My final for both classes is already done since all I had to do was write a topical paper for each. Finals are technically next week but my instructors allowed us to turn in our finals today if they were done. This is going to give me two days off next week and an early start to Christmas break. And while I’m flying high on that knowledge, I’m brought back to my own reality as I begin the walk across the quad to the coffee shop. I wonder how long Marcus has been there. I wonder if Finn has tried to kick him out. I should have warned Finn.
Before I reach the coffee shop I get a call from Furtick. He’s never called before so I answer it immediately. “Hi,” I say tentatively. I’m a bit nervous as to what he’s going to say. Will he tell me to abort the mission, or give me some quick self-defense tips?
“I just wanted to check in with you before you walked into God knows what,” he says. It’s Wes, not Furtick. I appreciate the strong Furtick we have most of the time, but I am always pleased when I get even the smallest glimpse of Wes, my compassionate, loving bonus uncle.
“Oh…well…I’m good. I’m nervous, but I’m good. Where will you be?” I’m most nervous about not knowing where my protector will be hiding. He’s such a good shadow, but today I need to know where to look to find him.
“I’m already in the coffee shop, watching Marcus.” Furtick speaks softly. I don’t know why since the coffee shop usually is usually buzzing with noise.
“So he’s there,” I say. “How does he seem?”
“Like an over-confident sociopath.” Furtick’s delivery is quick and I’m not sure if it’s meant to be sardonic or if he’s serious.
“Ok, well…um…I’m approaching now. Wish me luck,” I stutter.
“You don’t need luck. You’ve got me.” Furtick’s confidence in his ability to protect me makes me well up with emotion. I remember days with Gram where I wished someone would come swooping in and shield me from her sharp words and cold passiveness.
“I know.” I smile and hope that Furtick can see me through a window, seeing how his presence makes me feel. I hope that he can experience some redemption knowing that I appreciate all that he’s doing for me.
With that we both hang up and I walk, slowing up the last few steps, and into the shop. Finn immediately calls out to me and I step up to the counter. Finn darts his eyes to his left to alert me to Marcus’ presence. I nod, but just slightly so as not to irritate anything in Marcus. I don’t want him to know or even think that I’ve discussed him with anyone. There are a dozen different scenarios that could play out if he did. Finn makes my chai tea latte, which is especially great since it’s pretty chilly outside, and I’ll have something to do with my hands while I sit with Marcus.
As I turn around from the counter I spot Furtick, and I’m at
ease. I have to scold myself when I smile internally at his admittance of being ready to kill Marcus if he tries to hurt me. I take a deep breath as I look to my left and locate Marcus.
He smiles at me and I feel sad. There’s so much light in him that I can’t believe he’s letting this darkness consume him. I remember how he could make studying trigonometry kind of fun just by using a silly voice when he read the problems. I can still see that guy and I want so desperately to pull him out.
“Layla, it’s good to see you. You look lovely today,” Marcus says, standing as I reach the table. He seems so him in this moment. His eyes are kind and his expression is soft.
“Thank you, Marcus.” I sit down across from him. I put my backpack next to me on the chair and my drink on the table.
“As I said last night, I was pleasantly surprised to hear from you. I had assumed that you were not going to make me wait the whole three days, but I see you’re still wearing that,” he says pointing to my ring. And just like that, his kind eyes are replaced with disgust.
I ignore his comment and get right to my objective. “How are you, Marcus?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” he says, tilting his head, genuinely perplexed at my question.
“Well, I thought about some of the things you said to me the other day and I thought that maybe we could talk about them,” I say, not exactly sure where I’ll start, but hoping to open up our dialogue with him knowing that I care about his well-being.
“Walk with me.” This isn’t a question. Marcus stands, takes my books, and waits for me to join him.
“It’s cold outside. I really want to stay here,” I rebut.
“Walk with me,” he says throwing my backpack over his shoulder. His tone is stronger now and I can see I will not be given another opportunity to refuse him.
This is not part of the plan. I suppose we’ll be ok as long as we stay in the quad. It’s teaming with people and Furtick will be able to follow us without being obvious. But what if we leave the quad? No, no…that’s not going to happen. I’ll just keep us strolling in the quad. After thinking this through I stand and take my drink. As I follow Marcus to the door I give Furtick a quick look and he nods in recognition.
Troubled Waters (The Lake Trilogy, Book 2) Page 16