"Skylar?"
Mom glanced back and then stepped aside so Zeke could get to me. I went right to him and buried my face in his shirt front, crying even though he was the one who'd endured the torture. How could he be so calm with all those atrocities still inside his head? I sincerely hoped Larry was rotting in hell. "Where's he now? Larry Bateman, I mean?"
Zeke kept his voice low. "Some guys from the Corteggio took him away."
"So he could be alive?"
"Yeah, but I doubt he's a free man." Zeke hugged me a little tighter. "You're not coming with me next time."
"Oh yes I am."
"No. It's too much."
"You survived it; I can, too. Besides, I want to know everything. It's part of who you are now, and how else can I help you?"
Zeke's swift kiss was the only answer I got. Steeling myself, I stepped away from him and returned to Mom's office. A glance at the clock told me time was up.
"Next Tuesday, same time same place?" asked Mom, noting my action.
"Yes, ma'am," said Zeke.
Mom opened her private door to let us leave. As Zeke walked by, she caught him in a hug. He stayed stiff in her embrace, but once he got away from her, I heard choking sob. He as good as ran from the building with me one step behind. Just before we got to my car, he slowed so I could catch up. He hooked his arm around my neck and pulled me up tight, which made me stumble. But I didn't mind. If I were under his very skin, it wouldn't be close enough for me now.
We told Dad about us over a KFC dinner that night. He reacted so calmly that I knew Mom had prepared him. Zeke promised my parents they could trust us to do the right thing. We moved on to another topic of conversation. Later, after they went to bed, I hugged Zeke for a really long time in the laundry room with the dryer tumbling clothes behind us. I wished for words that would let him know how much I cherished him, but they never came, and in the end we parted with little of what I really wanted him to know verbalized.
As I lay in bed that night, I kept seeing Technicolor images of Zeke being whacked by a belt. Hate for Larry consumed me, a shock. So much for having a tender heart. When it came to that man, I'd have loved to watch him die. Yeah, me. The girl who wanted to save the wolves, fed stray critters, and helped lost crickets find their way back outside.
****
On Friday, Zeke got a callback from Anytime Cleaners. I drove him there for a second interview around ten. Who knew that the owners of a dry cleaning establishment could be so picky? I mean, what would he be doing besides swiping credit cards and taking and handing over clothing and stuff?
As before, I waited, only this time I stayed in the car and listened to my CD player. As Adele sang about her broken heart, I kept my eyes on my surroundings, looking for any sign of Rick, Rourke or Germain. I saw nothing suspicious, but I was still glad when Zeke got back to the car and slid into the passenger seat.
"Did you get it?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"Yay!" Impersonating a cheerleader, I did a seated victory dance and hugged him. We kissed.
"Want to get some lunch?" he asked.
"Would this be a real date?"
He grinned. "Guess it would."
"Excellent." I beamed at him. "Where to?"
"Let's do Italian. Fabbiano's?"
I drove us there, arriving at eleven, just as the doors opened for the day. We were the fourth diners in line, but it took less than five minutes to seat us in a booth. Zeke slid in across from me. A server hopped over and took our drink orders, returning minutes later with a basket of breadsticks and two sodas. I suddenly felt nervous for some reason, like a girl with a guy she'd just met or something. But I wasn't that girl. I was a girl who knew her guy inside and out. Yeah, he still had secrets, but in time I'd know them all.
"Skylar?"
And the weird thing? I didn't dread what I might learn. Even if he'd killed someone, I could handle it. My only struggle was accepting the cruelty of the men who'd hurt him.
"Oh Sky-lar…"
He'd shown me some of his scars. I guessed there were others I hadn't seen plus the ones that were invisible. The mental ones.
"Fabbiano's booth one to Skylar Walker. Come in please."
I snapped out of it. "Skylar, here. Go ahead."
"Finally. Where were you?"
"Heaven."
"Huh?"
"I was cherishing the moment, okay? Do you have any idea how long I've dreamed of sitting across from you at a table in a restaurant on an actual date?" I got a breadstick and began to nibble on it.
"Er, since your Barbie doll days?"
"Longer. And here we are."
"Here we are." He glanced around the dining area, now bustling with activity and full of customers. I did, too, and saw what he saw: crisp white tablecloths, walls painted in the color of the Italian flag, fresh flowers. The waiters wore bright red shirts and black pants with green cummerbunds, so they pretty much matched the decor. "The place looks different."
"They remodeled several months ago."
"I've missed so much. Tell me about last year, your eleventh grade. Did you have a good time?"
"I had more fun than you, for sure, but I was pretty much a zombie pretending I was still alive."
"But you painted."
"Yes, wolves."
"And wrote."
"Yes, about wolves."
"Sorry I made you wolf-crazy. I honestly had no idea. Did you go to prom?"
"Mom made me."
"With friends?"
"My friends had dates. I went alone."
Zeke, looking as if my answer worried him, reached around the basket of bread to take my hands in his. "If something happens to me, you have to move on."
I jerked my hands back. "Why would you say that? Do you know something I don't?"
"No. It's just--"
"Don't even go there. I won't be able to eat."
He gave me a short nod and picked up the menu. "Same food, or did that change, too?"
"No change."
"Then I'm having lasagna. What about you?"
"Yes."
As the date progressed through ordering and getting our lunch, eating it, and then requesting to-go boxes, I kept an anxious eye on Zeke. He honestly seemed okay. He joked and laughed a lot; he recognized and greeted a couple of people he knew; he even stole a few kisses that made dessert even sweeter. But fine tuned to him as I was, I sensed that there was something he hadn't shared, something he silently worried about. That pretty much killed my first-date buzz.
Chapter Thirteen
Sam Sterling got to our house around nine on Saturday, greeting his son with a long hug and a searching look. Though he seemed at ease and had dressed casually in his jeans and polo shirt, I thought I sensed some anxiety in the air. Wasn't sure if it came from Zeke or Sam or both. The pair of them acted very awkward around each other. After a short catch-up with my parents, Sam paid for Zeke's tuition and shared his plan to help his son get a vehicle of some kind.
"You don't have to do that," Zeke said. "Save your money for your campaign. I'll manage."
"There's no need for either of us to sacrifice." Sam dug into his back pocket and handed Zeke a checkbook. "Your mom's life insurance policy named you sole beneficiary. You have money to live on."
Zeke opened the book and glanced at the balance. Though his expression didn't change, I could tell he was surprised. "Why didn't you tell me before now?"
"I wanted to save it for when you were older and under the circumstances, I'm glad I did. You have a debit card, too." He gave it to him.
Zeke stuck it in his wallet. "Do you mind if Skylar comes with us today?"
Sam actually hesitated before answering, my clue that he did. "I was hoping to talk to you alone. No offense intended, of course."
"I don't have to go," I quickly assured him.
"Yes, you do." Zeke turned to his Dad. "She can hear any conversation between us."
Sam gave in. "All right."
Naturally
I felt like the odd girl out, sitting in the backseat of Sam's shiny black Beemer on the way to a used car dealer. I nervously twisted a strand of my hair, worn straight and loose that day.
"What'd you want to talk about?" asked Zeke the moment we hit the road. He looked especially nice for a Saturday thanks to his new clothes. His short sleeves didn't hide his tattoos, but I didn't catch Sam staring at them even once.
"Why don't we do that later? Let's get this done first. I don't want you to be any more of a burden to the Walkers than you already are."
That hit me wrong. "He's not a burden to anyone."
Sam laughed. "Spoken like a loyal friend."
"Girlfriend," said Zeke.
"As in girl that's a friend or girlfriend girlfriend?"
"I'm in love with her."
"Ah." Sam smiled in his mirror at me. "I'm not surprised, you know. I've seen that coming for years, and you've grown into a beautiful young woman."
Aw. With the mood a little lighter, we got to the car lot. Zeke perked right up at the sight of all those shiny vehicles. He checked out model after model with enthusiasm that was a joy to see. And when he and his dad agreed on a two-year-old Challenger, metallic blue in color, he was nearly beside himself. In no time we were out of there and back in the Beemer with the dealer's promise that the car would be detailed, fueled and ready for pickup by that afternoon.
Sam drove us to a café, where we ordered burgers. While we waited for our food, Zeke, who sat on the same side of the table as me, spoke up. "Thanks for coming down today, Dad."
"No problem. There was something else I wanted to take care of while I was here, but it's slipped my mind." He sighed. "I'm a regular absent-minded professor these days. Thank goodness I'm surrounded by people who know what they're doing."
Was he referring to Melita?
"Can we talk now?" Zeke asked.
"Guess we'd better." He suddenly got very serious. "I'll get right to the point, son. Your decision to live in Ridge Rock was a blow to me."
"My decision?" Zeke shot me a startled look.
"Yes. I was honestly shocked when Melita said you'd left town. Had to drag the truth out of her."
"The truth being…?"
"You're upset because we're engaged. You've never liked her, and you think I should mourn your mom forever."
Oh my God. Had he really just said that? Somehow I kept my mouth shut. This was Zeke's business after all. But it was hard.
"That's very selfish, Zeke, and unlike you." Sam's gaze raked his son, for the first time lingering on the tats. "The old you, anyway."
"Dad, I--"
"Let me finish. I believe you owe Melita an apology. I'm thinking it would be a good thing for the three of us to go out to dinner tomorrow night, and--"
"No!"
Sam's jaw dropped.
"She's lied to you, Dad."
"Melita would never lie to me. Our relationship is based on mutual respect and trust."
"I'm telling you that's not why I left Cheyenne."
"Okay. Then why did you?"
"Because she told me that my staying with you would wreck your campaign." Zeke repeated every word Melita had said to him. "And when she brought my phone--"
"A phone! That's the other thing I was going to help you with today."
"No need. Melita's already taken care of that."
"Which was a gracious thing to do and proves--"
"I'm the asshole?"
Sam sighed. "I understand that you're still mourning for your mother. I miss her, too. But we have to move on. I love Melita. She's gotten me through some tough times, and these fabrications of yours--"
"Dad, please. I'm telling you the truth. She told me to stay away from you. She threat--"
"Stop! I'm not listening to this."
"So you're choosing her over me?" Zeke waited for his dad's answer, his brown eyes cold.
"If you must put it that way, then yes, but only for the moment. I know you've been through a lot, son, and you're not thinking clearly--"
"You think I'm crazy?"
"Of course not, but you're obviously a troubled young man. Jenna didn't give me details, but she told me you're in counseling. I think that's wonderful; I believe that you will soon see things differently, as they really are. If living with the Walkers will expedite this process, then perhaps you did the smart thing when you refused to stay in Cheyenne. When we get back to their house, I'll talk to them about expenses. Naturally I'll want to compensate them for your room and board and the sessions."
"Don't bother. I have money now, and I also have a job. I can pay my way. And just so you know, I'm moving out tomorrow. I've rented a room and won't be any more trouble to them."
I recoiled from him. "What?"
He sighed and gave me his attention. "There are apartments on the second floor of Anytime Cleaners. I'm getting one really cheap."
"Why didn't you say something?" I asked.
"Didn't want you to freak out."
"Like I'm doing now?"
"Well, yeah."
Fuming, I bit my tongue to keep from saying more. Zeke had enough to deal with at the moment. If I loved him, I had to support him…even when his decisions shook my world. Of course, that didn't mean I couldn't argue, but I wasn't going to do it in front of Sam. The waitress walked up with our burger baskets. I ate as much as I could, but my heart wasn't in it.
Zeke has a room. He's moving out.
Zeke has a room. He's moving out.
Zeke has a--
"Skylar? Would you like a piece of cheesecake? Café Ridge Rock is famous for theirs."
I made myself look Sam in the eye. "Oh, um, no thanks. I've eaten too much already."
His gaze dipped doubtfully to my half-eaten burger before he focused on his son. "You?"
"No."
"Then I'll pass, as well." He signaled the waitress, who brought the ticket. Minutes later we left the restaurant. Shortly after that, he dropped us off at the house. There he opened his trunk and unloaded a plastic tub of clothing, Zeke's laptop, and a box of books, CDs and DVDs.
"May I count on you for dinner tomorrow?" Apparently Sam hadn't given up on a Melita-Zeke reconciliation.
"Can't make it."
"Okay." Sam didn't look happy. "Why don't I call you next week, then?"
"Make it the week after."
Sam pretended not to hear what was certainly a rejection of his high hopes. He promised he'd add Zeke to his auto and health insurance policies that afternoon, and he also had Zeke sign a signature card that would give him access to the account he'd opened in Zeke's name. As Sam handed over the debit card attached to it, I promised that I'd drive his son to pick up his new wheels when they were ready. Sam left right after that.
We set everything inside the house. I then grabbed Zeke's wrist and as good as dragged him back outside to the bench swing on the deck. I plopped down on it and patted a spot next to me.
He sat with visible reluctance. "I know what you're going to say."
"Then you realize that I wish you'd given me a heads up in private about that room. Surprising me in front of your dad made it look like we aren't a team. And we are a team, aren't we?"
"Yeah. Shit. I'm really sorry, but he was pissing me off."
"I know."
"Forgive me?"
"This time." I got up and sat on his lap, my arms around him and my chin resting on his head. "Why are you moving out?"
"Because your parents are worried that I'll slip down the hall and crawl into your bed. And before you ask, no, they haven't said anything to me. I just know."
"How many apartments are in that house?"
"Three. The married owners are in the big one, which has four rooms including a kitchen. A relative of theirs is in the other. I forget her name, but they told me her parents are very wealthy and are trying to micromanage her life. She's sort of run away from home or something."
"Anytime Cleaners is a heck of a place to run to."
Zeke gri
maced. "Yeah."
"So when were you really hired?"
"At the first interview." He looked a little sheepish. "The second time I went there, I looked at the room. It's just four walls and a closet. The bathroom is down the hall. I have no kitchen privileges or anything, but they were willing to take the rent out of my weekly check. Guess I don't have to do that now, though." He patted the checkbook tucked into his pocket.
"You'd better get yourself a microwave. How else are you going to heat up all those Ramen noodles? And a mini-fridge might be a good idea, too." Determined not to be a brat, I kissed him and slid off his lap. "Let's update Mom and Dad. I know they're dying of curiosity."
****
Zeke's new ride, though previously owned, was a dream to drive. I knew this because he let me try her out the moment we got back to my house after picking her up. I'd motioned for him to park in Dax's spot. But he kept the motor running instead so we could take a drive to a rural area just beyond the city limits. We parked under a shade tree, undoubtedly on someone's land, though there wasn't a house nearby. Then we sat in the grass and talked about everything but that morning's fiasco.
Wolf-Crazy Page 10