The Distance Between Us (Mac Security Series Book 3)
Page 15
I wander around the house for a while and watch some crappy TV in the bedroom before I start to feel restless. Even after taking some painkillers I still don’t feel sated so I go and pour myself another coffee.
I take it into the living room, lying back on the sofa and humming a song that’s been stuck in my head for the last couple of hours. I look around the room, knowing that I’ll probably never sit in this room again like this, I doubt he’ll want me back here once I’m back at the compound.
I stare at the box on the top of the bookcase. The same box that I’ve stared at for days but haven’t had the guts to look into.
This may be my last chance to find out what’s in there.
I jump up, pushing one of the chairs against the bookcase and climbing onto it as my curious nature wins out. Even standing on a chair I still can’t reach the box so I grab the step stool from the kitchen and put it on top of the chair, managing to pull the box closer. I start to lose my balance and the box goes tumbling to the floor with an almighty bang as I grip onto the bookcase to save myself.
“Shit!”
I scramble down and gather the contents of the box, trying to get it all back in there. I shouldn’t have been looking. Why the hell did I want to spy? Dammit!
I push the papers back into the folder but a name grabs my attention. I can’t help but pull the piece of paper out all the way and scan it.
Demi Mackenzie.
“What are you doing?”
I jump out of my skin at the sound of Charlie’s voice, the death certificate still clutched in my hands. “I… I…”
I place it back into the folder and scramble up, holding my hands out to him. “It fell, I didn’t... I mean, I…”
“Get out,” he rumbles, so low that at first I think I’ve misheard him.
“Charlie.”
“Out!” he shouts, crouching down and placing all the papers back into the box neatly.
“Please,” I beg.
“I swear to fucking God, Kitty. Get. Out!”
I hiccup a sob at the look on his face. His brows are drawn down and his eyes look at me like I’m a stranger, no other emotion but anger evident.
I rush into the bedroom, pulling my jeans on and shoving my feet into my boots before heading straight out of the door with my arms wrapped around myself.
I wander the streets for about an hour until I decide to stick to my plan. I was always going to go back home today, I need to stick to it and pretend that none of that just happened. He wouldn’t have come to see me anyway, not after I left his house.
I grab a cab and head back to the compound, not bothering to go to the warehouse first, instead, I head straight for my cottage and slip into my bed, wrapping the sheets around me and burying my head in my pillow as the sobs finally take over my body.
My chest rises and falls; faster, harder. The breath leaving my body in gasps the longer I stare at the box. My hands shake and I ball them into fists, trying to get ahold of myself. But I can’t. Images flash in my mind at a hundred miles per hour and I squeeze my eyes closed to try and get rid of them.
Gripping my head in my hands I crouch down, my knees landing on the piece of paper that Kitty held as I came in the door.
I reach down and pick it up, my eyes blurring with tears making it hard to read the words, but I don’t need to see it. I know exactly what it says because I’ve stared at it enough times before.
My breath hitches as the tears roll down my face and I swipe at them angrily. I pull the box closer, shoving the contents back inside as fast as I can. I can’t go there again, not right now.
Once it’s all inside the box I stand up and put it back on the top shelf of the bookcase, kicking the chair out of the way and causing it to slam into the wall before I go storming into the kitchen.
I yank the fridge door open and pull out a beer, twisting the top off and leaning against the counter as the liquid hits my tongue and flows down my throat.
I can’t believe that she was snooping through my things. Who the hell does she think she is?
I can’t stop the feelings and memories flowing through me and I down the rest of my beer, foregoing getting another in favor of the bottle of Jameson I keep on top of the fridge. I grab the bottle and pour some in a glass, downing it and then doing it again, over and over before moving to the living room and collapsing on the sofa.
My head pounds at the memories I try to keep at bay but nothing is helping. I want to remember but at the same time I don’t want to, I want to pretend that none of it ever happened, that she’s still here, sitting with me.
I can almost feel her soft silky hair between my fingers, and if I try hard enough I can feel her face between my hands, her lips against mine and her body lying next to me.
“Charlie?” My eyes flutter open and my lips spread into a smile at the sound of her voice calling out to me.
“Morning,” I say, my voice gruff from sleep.
Her hand flows down my face and cups my cheek, the pads of her fingers scraping through my morning scruff. “Morning.”
I stare into her eyes as they swirl with happiness.
“Whoa.” She grabs her swollen stomach.
“Emmy? What’s wrong?” She doesn’t say anything, instead she takes my hand and lays it on her stomach. “What’s that?” I whisper.
“She’s kicking.”
“Yeah?” I grin so wide that I swear my face could split into two.
I place my other hand on her stomach and shuffle down on the bed, laying my head on her legs.
“Hey there, baby,” I say to her stomach before I look up at Emmy to see her smiling, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Uh oh, hormones have Mama again.”
“Stop it,” Emmy chokes out, tapping the top of my arm.
“Okay, okay! No need to be so violent.” I chuckle as I jump up off the bed and hold my hands out in front of me in surrender as she stands up and takes a step closer.
“Oh no you don’t, mister!”
She rushes forward and I take another step back, laughter taking over my whole body as she reaches me and pokes me in the chest.
I wrap my arms around her, lifting her up slightly and pressing my lips against hers in a bruising kiss.
“Fancy saving water with me?”
She looks up at me, her eyes narrowing. “Fine, but only because I care about the environment.”
“Sure you do.” I smirk, holding her hand and leading her into the bathroom.
My breath catches at the memory, the last time I held her, the last time I heard her laugh, the last time I saw her smile. It runs through my mind on repeat, just like it has for the last four years.
I can’t stop the sobs as they take over my body and I let them wrack me with brutal force.
They say time heals all wounds, but they’re wrong, they don’t. It just makes the memories so much harder to remember. Her voice slowly slips away until I forget what she sounded like, what she smelled like.
My eyes stay closed as my hand moves around, trying to stop the incessant ringing that vibrates through my head as I pick my cell up off the floor and stab at it blindly.
“Yeah?” I croak, trying to keep my cell against my ear.
“Charlie?”
I huff at the sound of Ty’s voice.
“What do you want?”
“What a way to greet your brother.”
I scrub my hand down my face, sitting up slowly and gripping the sofa to help against the room spinning.
“Just tell me what you want,” I groan.
What the hell happened last night?
My eyes crack open and I spot the empty bottle of Jameson that sits on its side on the floor. Now I remember.
“Just thought you’d like to know that Kitty is back.”
My shoulders slump at the sound of her name. I never should have gone crazy on her like I did, I should have let her explain. I should have taken a step back before I shouted at her, just the sound of my own voice in my head ha
s me cringing. But seeing her sitting over that box, snooping on something that is so raw, I just couldn’t stop myself.
“Good,” I growl before I pull the cell from my ear, ending the call and leaning back against the sofa.
I’m a mess, I know that, but I have no idea what to do or where to go from here. This is exactly why I didn’t want to let love in again, why I didn’t want to give anybody my heart because I know that it would just end up being crushed again.
I’ve had it ripped open, stomped on and then put back again, but it’s never fit the same. I’ll never be whole again, I’ll never be able to love again. Not like I did with Emmy.
Maybe that’s it. Maybe I’m not meant to love again, maybe my one true love was Emmy and that’s all it was ever meant to be?
There has to be a reason for everything. There has to be.
What am I doing? I’m not this person, I don’t sit around feeling sorry for myself. I’m a go-getter, a doer.
Pushing up off the sofa, I stumble and grab onto the doorframe, steadying myself, determined not to let this get to me. I just need to move on and forget about her purple hair, beautiful face and her sweet voice.
Fuck, how the hell am I meant to do that?
The light shining through the blinds has me slamming my eyes closed. My retinas feel like they’ve been burned from the inside out, my arms feel heavy and it takes all my energy to lift them and rub my eyes, trying to get the sleep out of them.
I roll out of bed, my body hitting the floor with a dull thud and then I crawl my way to the bathroom. This is nothing out of the usual for me, I love my sleep more than anything and there’s nothing I hate more than mornings.
Nothing, not even two coffees could wake me up properly. It’s a slow process and one that I had perfected before I got shot, but now it’s all out of whack.
I used to sit and stare at nothing for a good fifteen minutes before having my first coffee, once I’d had that I then had something to eat with my second cup before having a shower and then opening my door and sitting on the bench outside that overlooks my flowers with a bottle of water to hydrate myself.
I’m a night owl. I can stay up until four in the morning, but that doesn’t mean as soon as my head hits the pillow, my brain will stop.
Thoughts, inconsequential thoughts run through my head. Like, what would have happened if I was a couple of minutes earlier to a meeting? Or, what if I would have gone to sleep ten minutes earlier, would it have thrown my whole day off? Allowed me to fit more in? Or would I have slept later because sleep is my vice.
I lift myself up using my good arm braced against the bathroom counter and look in the mirror that hangs above it, almost covering the entire wall and stopping about ten inches from the ceiling. The lifeless eyes staring back at me, ringed with dark circles show me that I really need more sleep. My hair hangs around my face, limp. The pastel purple dye that I use has faded and is in desperate need of being fixed.
It’s time for me to get back to who I was. I can’t keep flitting through my life the way that I am, I’m becoming an empty shell and that’s not who I am. It’s not who I ever want to be.
“Time to pull up your big girl panties,” I whisper to myself in the mirror.
Grabbing my toothbrush, I push some toothpaste on and brush my teeth as my eyes count the black tiles that are interspersed with all the white ones that line all the walls before I wash my face quickly. I then change into a pair of leggings and an oversized t-shirt before heading straight out of the door.
“Where are you going?” Luke asks as I walk across the compound to my car.
“To the store,” I answer, opening my car door and sliding into my Camaro before starting the engine and reversing out of my spot.
God I’ve missed driving this car, almost as much as I’ve missed shooting Betty.
I watch Luke in my rearview mirror as I drive out of there, Evan coming to stand next to him. I know they’re worried about me, the hundreds of missed calls I’ve had since I’ve been at Charlie’s tells me that, but they should know better. I always sort myself out, I never dwell. I’ve had my little pity party and now I’m back. At least I will be once I make myself presentable.
I head straight to the hair section in the store, piling the hair dye in my basket and then make my way to the candy section, throwing Twizzlers in there too before I check out.
I pull one of the Twizzlers out as I drive back to the compound and hum the tune on the radio. It’s one of those that always sticks in your head. You know the kind where you only need to hear someone else singing or humming the tune and you can’t get it out of your head for days.
Once I get back to the compound, I head straight for the bathroom in my cottage and turn my Spotify playlist on my phone, placing it into a tumbler to make it louder.
I plonk the dye on my hair and add a facemask for good measure, may as well do two things at once.
“Kitty?”
I walk to my door and open it to see Ty’s face and I wave him inside, ignoring his wide eyes when he looks at me. He follows me into the kitchen and places a box on the counter and opens up the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water.
“So, you’re back.” He grins, leaning against the counter.
“Looks like it,” I say, opening my arms wide and turning around in a circle. “Admit it, you missed me.”
He raises a brow at me and chuckles. “Yeah, yeah.” He rolls his eyes and tilts his head to the box. “Brought you some work.”
My eyes flick from the box to him and I wait for him to tell me what work it is, but when he doesn’t, I finally relent. “What work?”
“New case. Well, technically an old case.”
“Yeah?” I ask, pulling the lid off the box and seeing it crammed with files.
“Political corruption, thought you might want to be the lead on this one.” He steps forward and squeezes my shoulder. “Glad to have you back.” He touches the mask on my face, pulling a face at the feel of it on his finger before he walks past me and out the front door, closing it with a soft click.
I pull the first file out and hesitate, I know that once I get stuck into the files that I won’t be able to stop and if I don’t wash the dye off I’ll end up bald.
Dye first, then work.
I step into the shower, washing the dye out and taking the mask off before slipping into my shorts and top pajama set. Grabbing the box along with a couple of bottles of water and the Twizzlers that I bought from the store, I go into my room, turning on the TV for some background noise and diving into the files.
Ty knows that political corruption is close to me, there were many times that I wished I could have brought my dad down, created a case against him and had him charged. The things that he used his power for were never good. Now though, him being in Canada and me in America, I know there’s no way for me to do that without bringing him back into my life and I won’t do that. I’ve worked too hard to get away from him.
Four hours later and I have a pretty good handle on the case. Corruption in politics is hard to prove and I know why this case is cold, because the people have been bought off. I just need to follow the paper trail and find some kind of evidence to back up my theory.
This is probably one of the things I love most about this job. The fact that you can take a cold case, turn it on its head, and find justice. And once I have my teeth into a case, I don’t let go, I’m like a dog with a bone and I won’t rest until the truth is found. No matter what it takes.
My hand moves to my arm unconsciously, gently tracing over the spot that I was shot. I grab the empty bottles of water as I get up off the bed and carry them into the kitchen with me, placing them in the trash and grabbing a new bottle.
I pull the hair tie off my wrist and put my hair up high on my head in a messy bun as I walk into the bathroom. My hand reaches out for the pill bottle only I come up empty. I snap my head to the counter and then it hits me.
I left them at Charlie’s. Fuck!
His voice rings loud in my head. OUT. OUT. OUT. That’s all I can hear, his stupid voice shouting at me and now I don’t have my pills. Pills that I need.
My feet are in my boots and my arms are through my jacket sleeves before I even realize what I’m doing. My feet take me to my car and I’m out of the compound within minutes.
My hands grip the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles turn white. I make it to Charlie’s house quicker than I ever have before and I pull up outside, grabbing the door handle and then I stop.
What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if he tells me that it’s over for good? I don’t think I can handle that right now. Not another rejection.
Think, Kitty, think. What can I do?
The light in his living room being switched off catches my attention and my mind starts to come up with theories. I could sneak in, grab my pills while he’s asleep and then head straight back home. No one would know and I’d be able to calm the thoughts in my head and stop my skin from crawling. My thoughts are too scattered, I can’t concentrate without them.
No, no I can’t do that. He’ll know if someone is in his house, he has that sixth sense and I’ll never be able to explain why I needed to get them. Why, at 3 a.m. I’m sneaking into his house.
How many pills were left in that bottle anyway? Three, four? That wouldn’t last me long at all, in fact, if I’m honest, I’d take them all right now and probably still need more in a few hours.
No, I need another plan. I need to get more. And I know just who to get them from.
I come to a stop outside of Diva’s and wait. My dash reads 3:32 a.m. and I know that he’ll be leaving anytime now. His car is parked four spaces away from mine and I flick my eyes from it to the front door, waiting, watching.
Any second now. Any second—
“Tell him that I’ll meet with him tomorrow for lunch and we’ll talk about it then.” His voice booms over the lot and I wait until he’s halfway to his car before I step out of mine, wrapping my arms around myself to ward off the chill.