Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set)

by Edwards, Scarlett

  Another crash sounds from inside. I risk peeking through the window.

  At the far end of the apartment, a light shines through a gaping hole in the door. I can make out the silhouettes of two men. One of them is holding something that looks like an enormous blacksmith’s hammer.

  I know I should get away from the window, but I can’t move. I’m completely stupefied by actually witnessing something like this in real life.

  I feel an urgent tug on my ankle, and look down to find Rich below me. “Come on,” he says. “We don’t want to be anywhere close to here when they break in.”

  I nod, swallowing my fear, and start the long climb to the ground after him.

  --

  “What the hell was that?” I demand of Rich as we rush through the parking lot to his car. He hasn’t said a word to me since hitting the ground. Instead, he’s been looking in all directions to avoid running into anyone unaware. I wasn’t opposed to his precaution while we were out in the open, but now that we’ve reached the underground parking lot, demanding an explanation seems the only reasonable choice. “Richard, who were those men at your door?”

  He shakes his head, avoiding looking at me. “The less you know about it, the better.” He unlocks his vehicle—a maroon red Ford pickup—and gestures for me to get in.

  I plant my feet and cross my arms. “Rich, I’m not going another step with you until you tell me what’s going on.”

  “Look, I don’t know what’s going on!” he curses, exasperated. He takes a deep breath, and his voice softens. “Or, not exactly. Not yet. It’s a long story, Penelope. But as long as they don’t know you were with me, you shouldn’t be in any trouble.”

  I give a bitter laugh. “Oh, that’s comforting.”

  “It should be.” He frowns. “Now, get in. We’re wasting time.”

  I huff but follow through. It’s not like I have many other options. “Where are we going?”

  “I need to make some calls.” Rich starts the engine and backs up. “We’ll go somewhere safe, somewhere public. Figure it out there. Maybe once I get a better understanding, I can explain things.”

  “Fine,” I nod. Then I feel a sudden constriction in my chest. “Oh my God. Shit! I forgot my purse!“ All my possessions are in there: my cell phone, my now-useless apartment key, my wallet, all my identifications, and—most precious to me of all—a tiny locket with a faded picture of a young man cradling a baby in his arms. His head is down so you cannot see his eyes. That picture means the world to me. It’s the only piece of my father I have left. “Do you think they’ll take it?”

  Rich scoffs. “They’re not thieves.”

  --

  Twenty minutes later, I’m sitting at the bar of a breakfast diner, cradling a warm cup of coffee between my palms. Looking over my shoulder, I see Rich still talking to somebody on the payphone by the far wall.

  I sigh, and take a sip of my drink. Rich has been on that phone from the moment we walked in. He’s spoken softly the entire time, so even though we are the only two customers, not a single word of his conversation has filtered over to me. I know as little now as I did when the banging woke me up.

  The woman behind the counter gives me a commiserating smile as she refills my cup. I wonder what she thinks as she looks at me. I know I must look like hell—but I feel even worse. I’ve been running on pure adrenaline and lust during the hookup with Rich. Now, all the fatigue from the long week is catching up to me. My entire body feels sapped. My mind starts to wander, and I find myself thinking about how Abby’s holding up.

  Probably better than me, I decide with a bitter snort. With the way things have been going recently, it seems like just my luck to get caught in the middle of something like this.

  I sigh again and take another long sip, trying to extract every last bit of energy from the drink. I need my mind clear right now, not groggy. Exhausted as I am, coffee seems like the best solution.

  If I had somewhere to go, things would be much simpler. I could just ask Rich to drop me off and forget about all this. But, thanks to some severely short-sighted decisions I’ve made in my recent past, that isn’t an option.

  In hindsight, maybe the move from California to Oregon with a girl I’d only known for a few weeks hadn’t been such a great idea. But, I’d been desperate to get away—and so had Abby.

  We met at the orphanage. She’d run in one rainy night, bawling her eyes out. Once she calmed down, her story came gushing out. She said she’d found her boyfriend cheating on her with her step-mom. She cried about how much she loved him, and how horribly betrayed he’d made her feel.

  In that unspoken moment, I felt a bond flare between us. I’d experienced something similar in my life. Jeremy, the only boy I’d ever loved, my first and final boyfriend, crushed my soul when I walked in on him making out with our eleventh grade algebra teacher. I ran out of there, shocked. I tried to deny what I saw at first, to pretend it was some misunderstanding, but the image of Jeremy running his hands over our teacher’s body had been imprinted in my mind forever. I can still remember the disgusting way they groped at each other on the floor of the afterschool detention room.

  I had walked in on them… and cried for hours after. Worse, it wasn’t like I could just get away. Jeremy and I lived in the same orphanage, went to the same school, and had the same classes. Awkward didn’t even begin to describe the tension between us in the following days. That was the point in my life I’d decided that real love was a sham. It was just a way to expose yourself to getting hurt.

  I’ve kept my heart locked tight ever since.

  So, when I heard Abby’s story, I knew we had something in common. That had been enough. As a kid growing up with no parents, you learn not to probe too deeply into the pasts of other orphans. Abby seemed to understand that, too. Our friendship developed with only a cursory knowledge of the other’s history.

  We started hanging out around the point I finished my last month of high school. I was close to aging out of the orphanage. I had to start a life of my own. When Abby suggested attending a little community college in Northern Oregon, I jumped at the opportunity to go with her.

  That had been a drastic mistake.

  It didn’t take long for Abby’s behavior to become suspicious. Even though we’d signed up for many of the same courses, I rarely saw her in class. Even though she’d told me she had a few thousand dollars' worth of savings she’d use for rent, her payments were always late. Even though she’d promised she’d go job-hunting with me our first week here, somehow she never made it.

  And while Abby looked pretty and prim on the outside, she lived like a pig. Dirty clothes would be thrown all over our apartment no matter how many times I asked her to keep them in her room. Unwashed dishes and moldy take-out cartons started piling up in the corners, under the couch, everywhere. I didn’t mind so much at first, but when all of my attempts to clean up the place became rendered obsolete by the following evening, it had started to become grating.

  It took two weeks of living together for me to understand Abby was not who she pretended to be. At first, it was the little things: some of my clothes going missing, opening my wallet to find fewer dollar bills in there than I remembered. I ignored the troubling signs at first, hoping they would peter out. They never did. More and more of my things disappeared, until I had to resort to locking everything in my room each time I left the apartment. If I asked Abby about it, she’d just deny it, of course, and then bat those fake eyelashes and pretend everything was perfect.

  Abby also liked guys—a lot.

  Our third week living together, I woke up to find some shady looking guy with a mullet digging through our kitchen cupboards. I screamed out in surprise. Abby rushed in, laughing, and explained that he was Brady, a friend of hers. I thought maybe they had started dating.

  I was wrong. I never saw Brady again. But for the remainder of the week, without fail, I’d wake up to find some other stranger sharing our breakfast table.

  I did
n’t judge, of course—I’d had a few weekend flings here or there myself—but with Abby, it was way beyond the point of being obnoxious. After her screams kept me up for three nights in a row, I decided enough was enough. I sat her down and confronted her about it. About everything. The missing clothing. The stolen money. The broken promises.

  She cried a little, promised she’d change, and begged me not to leave. Against my better judgment, I caved in. That had been a month ago.

  Things seemed to settle down after that. Until last night.

  “Hey.”

  Rich’s voice breaks me from my contemplations. I feel his hand on my shoulder. I look up.

  “I just finished over there. How are you holding up?” he asks.

  The innocence in his voice spikes something in me. Without warning, I feel my anger flare. “Well, let me see,” I start. “I know nothing about what’s going on. I’m stuck in a diner with a guy I barely know. Apparently we’re on the run, but he’s keeping me in the dark about everything. How do you think I’m holding up?” I finish with a vengeance.

  Rich goes from shocked, to angry, to defiant, and back down to calm over the course of my tirade. “Fair enough,” he says slowly. “But I’m not the one to get angry with.”

  I sigh, knowing that he’s right. “No, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have snapped. There’s just a lot going on in my life right now. I’ve barely had any sleep for two nights in a row, and now this…” I motion around helplessly.

  Rich takes the seat next to me. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but trust me when I say I want nothing more than to get you out of this as soon as possible.”

  “You’re that eager to get rid of me, huh?” I try to joke. It comes out wanting.

  “I want to get you safe,” Rich stresses, not an ounce of humor in his words.

  “Can you tell me who those men were?”

  “They are… well, the easiest way to think of them is as former acquaintances.”

  I perk a dissatisfied eyebrow. “Former acquaintances who break into your apartment at night?”

  “Look, it’s complicated. All I’m focused on right now is getting you out of this mess.”

  “I appreciate the concern,” I say drily, “but why should I be in any trouble?”

  “If they saw you with me, you might be.”

  “Why?”

  Rich rakes a hand through his hair. “Maybe they’ll think you’re my girlfriend or something.”

  I laugh. “I didn’t take you as the dating type.”

  “I’m not,” he stresses, suddenly tense. “But who knows what they’ll think. Right now, we have a bigger problem than that.”

  “Oh?”

  “Your purse. You have your wallet in there, don’t you?”

  I nod. “Yeah. I told you in the car.”

  “We have to go back and get it.” Rich closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose. “I’m an idiot for not thinking of it earlier. I told you those men aren’t thieves—and they’re not. But, if they find your purse in there, they might look through it, see your wallet, pick out your driver’s license…”

  “…and connect me to you,” I finish. I feel a dull stab of fear in my stomach.

  Rich grunts. “That’s right. None of this is your fault, Penny, and I don’t want you getting caught up in my problems.” Suddenly, he flashes me an easy grin. “After all, I think you’ve already had just about all of me you can handle.”

  Despite myself—despite the situation—I chuckle. “I’d say so.”

  “So, from my perspective, the sooner we get you away from here, the better. That way, you can go back to the way things were before you met me. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” I confirm. Then I have a new thought. “Wait! If those men were yelling so loud, wouldn’t one of your neighbors have heard? Wouldn’t somebody have called the cops?”

  Rich shakes his head. “There was a gas leak in the building a week ago. The developers paid for everybody to stay at a hotel until they fixed it. This morning,” he points to the ground, “is the first day any of us were supposed to return.”

  “And you took me there last night?” I say, appalled.

  Rich spreads his hands in front of him. “Hey, the leak was fixed. All right?”

  “But if everybody was supposed to be gone, how did those men know you were in there?”

  “That’s what I’m still trying to figure out.” Rich glances outside. I see the sun just starting to light up the sky from beyond the horizon. “Come on. If we hurry, we might be able to sneak in before too many people are around.”

  --

  “How do you know it’s safe to go back?” I ask as I settle into the passenger’s seat. “What if those men are still there, waiting for you?”

  “They won’t be,” Rich assures me. “I was on the phone with a friend who lives close by. I asked him to scope out the place. He said there’s no one there.”

  “He can get into your building?” I ask, skeptical.

  Rich shrugs. “Those men did.”

  “All right,” I say. “Fine. So we go back, go inside, hope there’s no one waiting for you, get my purse, and that’s it?”

  “And that’s it,” Rich agrees. “You’ll never hear from me again.”

  The casual way he says that raises the hairs on the back of my neck. He isn’t telling me something. Though maybe it’s disappointment I feel. Last night with Rich was amazing. I know not to look for anything deeper between us, but nobody has made me feel the way I did last night in a long time.

  But I have my own problems to deal with without getting caught up in his.

  “Fine,” I say. “But can you at least tell me what those men wanted from you? Are they dangerous?”

  Rich gives me a sour smile. “Did they seem like the safe type to you?”

  I shake my head. “No, but you said you know them. And you told me they’re not thieves.”

  “There are worse people out there than thieves, Penelope.” So, we’ve gone back to full first names, have we? “And the most dangerous hand holding the knife is the one you trust near you.” He gives me a long, level look. “Do you understand?”

  “I’m not a child,” I huff. “You still haven’t answered my question: What did they want from you?”

  Rich shakes his head. “Remember when I said the less you know about this, the better?”

  “Better for you, maybe. But you got me involved, and I think I have a right to know.” I pause. “What would I tell the police, afterwards, otherwise?”

  Rich’s head snaps in my direction. “No, Penelope,” he says very slowly, very carefully. “No. You have to promise me you won’t go to the cops over this.”

  I sniff. “As if. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t?”

  “I’m serious.” His voice remains grave. “You don’t understand what’s going on. You’re playing with fire here.”

  “Maybe if you told me what’s going on, instead of asking me to rely on blind faith, I’d have a better idea.” I’m tired of the way he keeps dodging my questions. “No bullshit, Richard. Tell me straight up. Who were those people, and what did they want?”

  Rich exhales and puts his hands back on the steering wheel. “You just won’t let this go, will you?” he sighs.

  I look right at him without saying a word. Waiting.

  “And it’s not good enough for you when I say I’ll get you out of it as soon as possible?”

  I frown, and shake my head. “The truth, Rich! If I’m going back there with you, even if it’s to get my own stuff, I deserve to know who might be waiting there for me.” A worse thought occurs to me. “Or, who might already know I’m with you.”

  “Fine,” he says, the gravelly displeasure clear in his voice. “They want me, Penny. All right? They want me. It’s something that started a long time ago. The short of it is, I have something they want. I thought I’d be safe from them here for a while yet, but they found me.”

  “You’re not being very clear
.” I shake my head. “What do you have that they want?”

  “God! You just keep digging deeper and deeper, don’t you?” His voice becomes more heated, more irate. “It’s a debt, okay? Something I thought I’d settled a long time ago. Clearly, they don’t see it that way.” He curses softly. “Goddammit! I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this. None of it is supposed to affect you.”

  I feel the sincerity in his voice. I believe his last statement.

  Gently, I put a hand on his arm, trying to comfort him. Rich shrugs me off. Then, he looks back at me and sighs. “They came last night to collect payment,” he admits. “That’s all you need to understand. This is between me and them. None of it needs to touch you.” He flexes his hands against the wheel. “It’s just… Fuck, I just wish it hadn’t happened last night. It’d be so much easier to deal with if I were alone. Now, I have you to think about, and it… complicates things.”

  “Hey, I’m not some helpless baby. I can take care of myself.”

  Rich looks over—and surprises me by barking a laugh. “No,” he says, “no, I can see you’re not. You got me to tell you all this.” He gives a wry smile. “You know, Penny, I think I may be starting to like you.”

  --

  Rich pulls to a stop about a block away from his apartment. I can see it dwarfing the smaller buildings in the distance. I can also see the rickety fire ladder we’d used to make our escape. It looks even frailer and more fragile in the sun. If it hadn’t been dark last night, I don’t think I would have ever trusted it with my weight.

  The drive from the diner had been quiet. It probably took my brain too long to understand the danger associated with the men who came after Rich, but as his car neared his apartment, the realization started to sink in.

  Thugs. Money men. Loan sharks.

  I shiver. I’ve never had personal experience with that side of the world, but I’ve met kids drifting through the orphanage who had. Only the most desperate got involved with those types of lenders.

  I sneak a peek at Rich out of the corner of my eye. What had pushed him to seek them out? What did he have in his past that forced him to go to them? My instincts tell me it’s better not to delve too deep. However, my recent experience with Abby has taught me how important knowing a person’s past can be.