Learning to Let Go

by Cynthia P. O'Neill

  I sank back down on the floor and reached a hand to his face. I was thankful when he leaned into my touch and wrapped his hand over mine, pulling me closer. I couldn’t understand why he kept saying everyone he loved was taken from him, but then realization slammed into me. The car accident! Both his parents and his Aunt Lydia had all died in car accidents.

  “Oh my God!” My hand pulled away from his and flew over my mouth.

  “What?” His look was puzzling.

  “You’re reliving the past because of the car accident, aren’t you?”

  His hand came up and pinched the bridge of his nose before sweeping back to his neck, where he grabbed hold, trying to massage away obvious tension. I was surprised when a soft “Yes,” escaped his lips.

  “Will you ever tell me what happened?”

  He shook his head side to side and I began to feel defeated until he finally whispered, “It was all my fault. My parents, my aunt, they all died because of me.”

  I couldn’t understand why he blamed himself. “That’s not possible, Garrett. You were so young. How can you even think that you had any part of your family’s death?”

  “You know that they were in a tragic car accident when I was five, but you don’t know what led up to it. My father was working his way up in one of the top security design firms in the area. We didn’t make enough to survive on just his salary, so Mom used her accounting degree to work at a bank. It was their hope that he could get promoted and one day make partner so my mother could quit her job and stay home with me. He had his work cut out for him because he had competition for the new management position he was after.”

  He paused, his hands starting to shake uncontrollably. I enclosed them in my own and held them close, making him look up, seemingly surprised that I was still there.

  “Go on,” I encouraged. “What happened next?”

  “My dad had been working on some new designs for some top of the line security systems for hotels and big corporations. He’d been spending late nights and some weekends putting the final details on things. When he wasn’t working for his company, he was at home running over a plan my Mom and him came up with. With the increased use of computers in banking, she’d discovered that if some computer extremists had the ability to skirt the back door of computer banking systems, they could easily skim a few dollars off of each account and make off with millions of dollars without anyone being the wiser. She’d proposed a computerized security system that would alert the organization if multiple accounts were being hit by the same computer IP address. Since his sister was a computer genius, Aunt Lydia and my dad wrote the software while my mom showed them all the potential areas where the bank’s computer system was weak.”

  I could tell the weight of the discussion was causing him some major grief, because his hand kept clenching inside of mine and the tick that formed on his jaw when he was anxious about things was spasming like crazy. But I knew I had to get at the root of the problem in order to help him resolve it. I knew his behavior had to be about more than just me.

  He took a look into my eyes, gauging my response, before continuing on. “They felt bad about all the time they spent at work and promised, once word of the promotion came through, that they would take a couple days off work and make it up to me by taking me anywhere I wanted to go and doing anything that I wanted. All I cared about was their time, not what they gave or did for me.”

  His body shuddered at the thoughts that were now obviously filling his mind. “I woke up to a man screaming harsh words at my parents. It was late in the evening and the man sounded a bit drunk. I crept downstairs to see what all the yelling was about. I watched as the man screamed, ‘You stole my chance at the promotion! I needed that to prove myself, to get what’s rightfully mine. Step down and let me have it.’ My father refused, saying he had earned every cent the new job gave him. The man’s fist raised toward my dad and I ran in between them, begging him to stop.”

  I squeezed his hand and he swallowed hard.

  “He hit me. The fucking bastard slapped me so hard across the face that I flew across the room and hit my head against the stairs.” I watched as he rubbed a small scar at his temple. “I’d never seen my father throw a punch, but he landed a right hook to the guy’s jaw before grabbing hold of his collar and pants and throwing him out the door. The man threatened my father; I can still hear his words: ‘You’ll pay for this, Andrews. That job is mine and I’ll take it by any means necessary, so you’d better watch your fucking back. I always get what I want.’”

  I shuddered myself, picturing the scene, thinking of the scared little boy protecting his Daddy.

  Garrett laughed a little. “My old man knew how to stand his ground. He told him that he’d call his supervisor first thing Monday morning and report his ass. He said, ‘In life, you can’t always get what you want, Peterson. So buck up and leave me and my family alone. If you’re not off my lawn in the next five minutes, I’m calling the cops on your sorry ass.’” He sucked in a deep breath. “Oh, God, no!”

  The realization hit me at the same time. I looked to him, panic showing all over my face. “You don’t think?” I said. “It couldn’t be. What are the chances?”

  He shook his head for a moment, as if dispelling the notion, and continued on. “The next day, we were supposed to have a big game night with cocoa, s’mores and tons of fun. We were about to order my favorite pizza when someone from the company’s board of directors called asking my dad to attend a banquet last minute. I understood the other guy had an emergency and couldn’t make it, but it was supposed to be our time.”

  His voice took on a pleading tone; I was trying my best not to cry.

  “My parents tried to explain this to me and had Aunt Lydia to come over and babysit, but I was furious. I felt I was more important. I had a right, too, didn’t I?” His eyes were tear-filled and looking up to mine for approval.

  I scooted closer to him, moving my hand up his arm. “You were a child; of course you deserved time with them. But, you didn’t get it, did you?” I could sense where this was going.

  He shook his head. “No,” he said flatly. “They dressed quickly and offered up words of love and promises about being back in a couple of hours. They told me how they’d rather stay home with me, but the evening was being held in honor of a special client that the company needed in order to grow the business and they wanted an engineer there to explain how their security systems could benefit them.”

  His back started to shake as the onslaught of tears began to flow from behind the mask of control he always carried. “I refused to tell them goodbye or return their sentiments of love. I was so mad that I told them I didn’t care if they ever came back.” His crying picked up and his words floundered. “Two hours later, there was a knock on the door from a police officer telling us we needed to get to the hospital, that there had been an accident. He escorted us there and had a nurse watch me while Lydia talked with the doctor.”

  His eyes rose up to look into mine, filled with anguish. “I knew; I just knew they were gone and then I saw the doctor catch Lydia before she hit the floor, wailing in grief. I was so mad at myself, ticked at the world, and basically just wanted to curl up and die. I didn’t deserve to live. I told my parents I didn’t care if they ever came back,” he sobbed, stifling a hiccup. “I met Jocelyn after that and she helped me try to work through my issues and night terrors.”

  I wrapped my arms around him, hoping he would lean against me for support and feel the love and comfort I was trying to give him. “This was not your fault, Garrett. Your parents obviously loved you and wanted a better life for you. Kids say things, some pretty harsh things, sometimes that they don’t mean. I’ve been known to spout off some hurtful comments to my own family. Parents understand that kids are emotional. You were young, you were hurt, and I’m sure your mom and dad knew you loved them.”

  “I’d been told that they died from the impact of the crash, only to learn later, when my aunt thought I
wasn’t listening, that they were speeding toward home when their car hit a patch of ice on the road and careened over an embankment. They were thrown from the car and broke both of their necks, dying instantly.” His eyes lit up as though discovering something he hadn’t thought of before.

  “What is it, Garrett?” I pulled his face up level with mine. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

  He looked out the window and I followed his gaze, noticing the night had faded away and a new dawn was breaching the horizon. He got up, walked over to his desk, and proceeded to make a call.

  “Thompson, I need you and Dillon in my office immediately.” His face was determined as he strolled across the space and unlocked the door. No sooner had he unlocked the door when both the men came barreling through, already dressed and ready for the day.

  Thompson glanced between the two of us, noticing our tiredness. “Is there something wrong, sir?”

  “I had a revelation of sorts, talking with Laurel. I kept wondering why Chase looked so familiar to me and I believe I may have my answer. I need both of you to expand the background check from Chase to include everything about his father, too. I know you’re looking into who forges their documentation; but, if my intuition is correct, his father may have worked with mine. I need you to find his past work records, all of his achievements, and security and software designs, from both present and past. Find out the current status of his company and his location. Also, see if he’s funneling money to Chase to help thwart our efforts in capturing him. If so, then he’s aiding and abetting and the police should be notified. Get everything you can on the Petersons. I want to know every detail of their sordid past.”

  To my surprise, it was Dillon who spoke up. “Thompson and I have already done a little background searching, without your permission, sir, and discovered your dad did work with Walt Peterson. He had been up for promotion at the same time as your father and ended up with the job a couple days after your parents’ deaths. I’m sorry if we overstepped our bounds, Mr. Waters, but we both had a feeling something was off. We would have come to you sooner, but only discovered this yesterday. We were trying to gather more information for a full report before we brought it to your attention.”

  Garrett visibly relaxed for the first time in hours. “Good job, both of you!” he commended. “Feel free to develop the search. Leave no corner unturned and offer up monetary compensation to anyone with any pertinent information. I have a feeling our issue with the Peterson family just got a lot bigger.”

  My mind ran over everything he’d told me, along with the new information from Dillon. I tried seeing it from every angle, but needed to know why he blamed himself for his aunt’s death. I was about to ask when I heard him on the phone with Charlotte. Did he ever leave the woman alone? It was only 7:30 and he was already bugging her.

  “I’m not going to come into the office until this afternoon. I have some pressing matters that need my attention here. See if Kenneth can handle some of the smaller meetings and push back any major ones to this afternoon or later this week.” He hung up and walked over, grabbing my hand and pulling me along behind him. “It’s time we went to bed for some sleep, love, plus I need to finish my story. Did you want to hear the rest of my embarrassing past?”

  I smiled. Just hearing him say we were going to the bed for some sleep made my heart soar. I just wanted to feel him pressed against me in slumber.

  As soon as we hit the top of the stairs, he hauled me up over his shoulder and landed a harsh slap to my bottom. “That’s for pushing me to talk to you.”

  When we entered the bedroom, he pushed me down on the bed, pouncing with one of his legs between mine, spreading me as his lips came crashing down over mine with a kiss that stole my breath and left me wanting more.

  “Thank you for getting me to open up,” he said against my lips. “I would’ve never realized a connection existed if I hadn’t talked with you.” He pulled my robe off and ran his hands over every inch of my body, making goosebumps appear wherever his hands touched. He pulled back my nightgown, exposing the slickness of my mound. “You’re so wet for me, baby.” His nose skimmed across my flesh as his hands traced over every inch of my body. His lips trailed kisses over my stomach and were making a beeline for my clit when his cell phone went off with Charlotte’s ringtone.

  He reared back on the bed, reaching for his phone. “This better be good.” His voice wasn’t nasty, but not nice either. I watched as he listened intently, his mouth pressing into a hard line, not enjoying what was being said. “Shit, I forgot about that meeting this afternoon.” She said something back to him, making him shake his head and frown. “No, we need to get this done,” he agreed. “They have someone else trying to snag them, so we need to go ahead and meet; see what we can do to entice them. Give me a second while I think.”

  I covered myself and sat up on the bed. He groaned at the turn our encounter was taking. I could definitely understand how he felt. I was pent up sexually and about ready to touch myself to get rid of the ache, but only he could provide the relief I needed.

  Garrett rubbed the back of his neck for a couple minutes, trying to relieve the tension that was obviously present, when he snapped his fingers and a smile spread across his face. “I think I have an idea. Their basketball team is in town playing ours tonight. See if they would agree to a meeting tonight at the Amway Center, as my guests. Let them know I have a private room where we can discuss business, have a chef-prepared meal, and enjoy the game. If they’re willing, call the Center and let them know to prepare the room for an hour before game time. Be sure to see if Chef Leandro is available and ask him to prepare the usual and give him a headcount with Ms. Hart, Jonathan, and myself included and call me back to let me know. Thanks, Charlotte.”

  He looked over at me after he hung up. “The mood is ruined, huh?”

  I nodded in agreement and felt the loss as he let out a frustrating groan. I needed relief, squirming against the sheets to try and rub out some frustration, but obviously we had work to get to and our desires would just have to wait. Plus, our conversation wasn’t over in regards to his past. There was so much more I needed to know.

  I was so ready to sink myself into Laurel’s heat. I needed to feel her body around me; to find some release. When the world seemed to be coming at me from all sides and the control started to slip through my fingers, she somehow kept me grounded. I’d just have to wait until later tonight. My work was calling and I needed to push both of us to review the design and get the information ready for the potential meeting tonight.

  While I waited for Charlotte to call back with the details, I climbed up on the bed and lifted Laurel’s chin to look into her eyes. “What’s going on in the pretty little mind of yours?”

  She chewed on her lip, which was never a good sign. She only did that when her thoughts were dark.

  “I hate to ask this, but I need to know. What time of year did your parents die? And what happened to your aunt?”

  My body tensed at the questions. I know I’d promised to finish telling my story, but was hoping for some fun time first, needing to feel the connection that was growing between us.

  I took a deep breath in, trying to quell my anxiety. “My parents died in April. Why?”

  I could see the light bulb going off in her mind. “Does it get cold enough for ice on the roads here in Florida?” she asked.

  I punched my fist into the pillow beside me. Damn it. How could I’ve missed such an important detail? Because you were only five years old. You didn’t want to talk about or think about things until now. “Could that be why my aunt was talking to an investigator and pushing him to review the accident?”

  Her hand touched my arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. Her eyes looked puzzled. “Why was your aunt talking to a detective?”

  Shit. Had I said that out loud? I didn’t want to go there, because I didn’t want to believe what my aunt had one time suggested. In my mind, the accident had been all my doing. If they hadn�
��t tried to rush home, they might have never hit the supposed ice and…

  I brushed my thumb across her lips, reaching over to give her a soft kiss before picking up the house line. “Thompson, I need you to look into a couple more items. Find out who wrote up the report on my parent’s accident.”

  “I’ll get right on that, sir. Would you like me to look into your aunt’s death as well, as a safety?”

  “Might as well. I want the name of the detective my aunt Lydia had spoken with. I’d also need to know where Walt Peterson was during the time of her accident and if any money was drawn from his accounts during that time. Something about all this just doesn’t feel right.”

  “I agree, sir. This is more than just coincidence.” Thompson admitted.

  “I concur,” I said shortly. “This is getting more complicated by the minute and making me question everything I was ever told in my youth.”

  I had just put the phone down when I felt her warm hand press against the side of my face. “If you need to talk,” she whispered, “know that I’m here to listen. I won’t judge and I promised I wouldn’t run or push you away again.”

  How did I tell her that I may or may not be responsible for my aunt’s death too? I guess the honest approach would be best. I took hold of Laurel’s hand and guided her back to the edge of the bed. My stomach twisted and my heart felt heavy with the images I knew I would be revisiting in my mind. “You know why I feel guilty about my parents’ accident,” I began.

  Her head nodded and she squeezed my hand tighter.