In Another Life

by C. C. Hunter

  When she pulled back, he saw something he’d never seen before. Acceptance. Yes, the Fullers accepted him, but they didn’t know the things he’d done. He’d never told them. Never told anyone. No one but Chloe. And she didn’t blame him.

  “Are we going to swim now or what?” she asked.

  He looked at her. “You sure you want to be with me?”

  “Don’t be crazy,” she said.

  “No, listen to me, I get—”

  “Are we going to swim or what?” she asked.

  “I just want you to—”

  She shoved him. He fell back into the water. When he came up, he couldn’t help but laugh. She stood on the pier, all smiles and curves and bare skin. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and she knew all the bad things he’d done, and she still loved him.

  Maybe his life wasn’t so damned after all.

  They swam, raced, and splashed each other for an hour. When they got out, they fell into a hammock and made out. When things almost went too far, he stopped and untangled himself from her and sat up.

  He raked a hand through his hair. “We could—If you want to, we could…”

  “Go inside,” she said.

  He looked at her. “I was told I should ask…”

  “Ask what?” she said.

  “If you wanted to … you know.”

  She made a funny face. “Who told you that?”

  He laughed. “Mr. Fuller.”

  “Asking makes it a little awkward, doesn’t it?”

  Still grinning, he said, “I thought the same thing. But it kind of makes sense. It should be a choice, not … an afterthought. I don’t want there to be any regrets.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  He lifted a brow. “Okay…?”

  Her smile widened. “Okay, you can ask.”

  “Ahh,” he said. “Do you want to … go inside?”

  She bit down on her lip. “The girl you dated who had a lake house close to here, did you two, you know … go inside … here?”

  “Not here,” he said honestly.

  “No one, here?”

  “No one.” He’d answered honestly, and he figured if she’d asked, he could, too. “Did you and Alex…?”

  “Not here,” she said.

  His lips tightened. “I don’t like Alex.”

  She grinned. “I don’t like her, either.” She pulled her hair back. “Did you bring protection?”

  “Yeah.” Then he worried … “Not that I planned—I mean, I’d never have—”

  “I know,” she said, saving him from having to say more.

  * * *

  I wake up. It had been amazing and emotional. The words I love you were said a lot. I’d cried. He immediately thought something was wrong. I immediately convinced him it wasn’t.

  Cash put on some music, I borrowed his shirt, and we lay in bed for an hour, laughing, talking, holding on to each other until we dozed off. When I sit up, I see Cash sitting at a small desk with his phone.

  He must have heard the mattress shift, because he looks back, gets up to kiss me. “You getting hungry?”

  “I’m starving,” I say.

  “Me, too. I started the grill.”

  His hair is wet, meaning he showered. I can’t believe I didn’t wake up. “Can I clean up?”

  “Yeah. I put out clean towels.”

  When I leave the bathroom, he’s still at the desk. He looks at me. I’m back in my jeans and top. “I liked you better in my shirt.”

  I grin.

  He looks at his phone.

  “What are you looking at?” I ask.

  He frowns. “Don’t get mad?”

  Just like that, I know. “The pictures of the paperwork from the adoption agency?”

  He nods. “Did you bring the letter with you?”

  “Cash—”

  “Just answer me.”

  “Yeah. I didn’t want to leave it in case Mom … It’s in my backpack. Why?”

  “Something’s bothered me, and I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I think I know what it is.”

  I digest what he’s saying. “Cash, I don’t want to start—”

  “Can I just look at it?”

  I relent. “Yeah.”

  He walks into the other room. When he comes back, he has the letter in his hand. “I was right, Chloe. The letter’s a fake.”

  I shake my head. “How—? You don’t know that.”

  “I do. Look.” He grabs his phone from the desk and joins me in bed. “Your birth mom’s name on the birth certificate is Marie. But in her signature, here, it looks like an a on the end. On the letter she signed to Mr. Wallace and on the envelope that was mailed, she signed it as Maria. Look at how she writes the capital M in ‘Your Birth Mom.’ It’s not the same as the adoption papers. You can see it.”

  I don’t glance down. “I can’t do this, Cash. I’ve accepted—”

  “Just look at it.” He holds out the letter and his phone.

  I do. And he’s right, but … “My signature doesn’t look the same all the time.”

  “But it has her name on the birth certificate. It’s Marie, not Maria. And the name on the envelope is Maria, not Marie.”

  I hear him, but … When I don’t say anything, he adds, “I got a text yesterday from the nanny. She’s back from Mexico. I didn’t text her back. But I think we should go talk to her.”

  My mind races, and my heart tries to keep up. “No. I’m not doing this again, Cash.”

  “Don’t you want to know the truth?”

  “I do know the truth.”

  “Give me this, Chloe. Go with me to see the nanny, and if we still feel that way, then I’ll let it go. I promise.”

  * * *

  Rodney parked in front of his hotel room and rushed inside to wash the blood off.

  He had struck out finding the boy and girl. But not so much with the nanny. Her lights had been on. He hung out there, watching and waiting until the neighbors went to sleep.

  It had been a piece of cake getting into her house. He eased in, quiet as a mouse, making sure she was alone. She had been.

  Washing his hands in the bathroom sink, he watched the bloody water get sucked down the drain. He hadn’t liked doing it. That just proved he wasn’t all bad.

  He kind of wished she hadn’t woken up, though. Hadn’t switched on her bedroom light. Then again, when she saw him, he knew she recognized him. “You!” she’d screamed.

  He’d hesitated. And that gave her just enough time to come at him.

  He’d shot her, close range. Then the damn woman fell on him. Bled all over him. He closed his eyes and reminded himself he had to do it.

  It was that or jail.

  He wasn’t going to jail.

  Now he had to take care of the girl. And the boy? He should probably take care of him, too.

  * * *

  On the way to school on Monday, Cash pulled over to get gas. Standing there, he hit send on the video to Paul’s number. Still holding the pump, he realized he was smiling. Not because of Paul, but because he couldn’t remember ever being so happy, or exhausted.

  He’d barely slept last night. Reliving every moment of Sunday, wishing she were in bed with him, and trying to figure out how soon they could do that again. This afternoon wouldn’t work, because Chloe’s dad was in town again, and tomorrow she’d agreed to go with him to see the nanny right after school.

  She’d made him promise a dozen times that if they didn’t learn anything, he’d drop it. He promised. But damn if he didn’t believe he was right. Chloe was Emily.

  After hearing the pump click, telling him his tank was full, he went in to buy Skittles. On the counter, they had roses for sale. He got a red one.

  Walking back to his Jeep, he saw a man leaning against the front passenger door. A big, burly guy, balding gray hair. He watched Cash with purpose. Cash approached with caution.

  His father’s words rang: Never let your guard down. Everybody wants a piece of you.
Everyone is out to get you.

  He pulled his keys out of his pocket and wished he weren’t holding a red rose. “Can I help you?”

  “Ain’t that sweet.” The man motioned to the flower.

  “What do you want?” Cash asked, happy when another car pulled in to the pump next to him.

  “I think I’m the one who can help you. Name’s Ken Jennings.” He held out his meaty hand.

  Cash didn’t take it. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention, telling him this guy was trouble. “I don’t know you, so I don’t have any idea of how you could help me.”

  “You see, people come to me to fix their problems.”

  “I don’t have any problems.” He motioned for the guy to move away from his Jeep.

  The man didn’t move. “Yeah, you do. I got a videotape of your car parked at a dry cleaner in Fort Landing. Amazingly, it’s the same time someone broke into A New Hope Adoption Agency.”

  Cash’s muscles tensed. Damn! Had he even looked for a camera before he parked?

  “And here’s the thing,” the man continued, “I happen to know you come from trouble. With just a few phone calls, I think you’d be wearing some handcuffs, trying to explain a lot of shit. Do you want that?”

  Cash’s heart thumped, but he dared not show it. “Get your ass off my Jeep.”

  “Now, boy, listen to me. Just drop all this. Leave it alone. The guy who hired me doesn’t want trouble. But there’s someone else who doesn’t feel that way. Your girlfriend needs—”

  “You lay one hand on her, and I’ll kill you. Get out of my way,” Cash seethed. The man stepped away from his door, but it took everything Cash had not to put his fist in the guy’s face.

  Instead, he got in his Jeep and drove off. What the hell was he going to do now?

  32

  I get to school a few minutes early. I park, get out, and look around to see if Cash is there. David picked Lindsey up for school, so I’m on my own. I see Cash’s Jeep pull in, and I start that way.

  “What the hell is your boyfriend up to?” a voice says behind me.

  I swing around. Paul, fist clenched at his side, storms toward me. Cash told me he was sending the video, so I know what this is about. “I’m pretty sure he explained it in his text,” I say, and I know that, too, because I helped him write it.

  “He’s trying to mess up my chances at a football scholarship, isn’t he?” He gets in my face.

  I take a step back.

  “Get the hell away from her.” I hear Cash, and he’s running toward us.

  “What are you trying to pull?” Paul yells at Cash.

  “Not a damn thing. Read the damn text. Now, get lost,” he says. Cash’s expression is rock hard. Anger tightens his face. He looks ready to fight.

  “What are you going to do? Take it to the coach?” Paul moves closer.

  Cash takes my arm. “Come on.”

  I start walking with him.

  Paul bolts in front of us and takes a defensive stance.

  Cash releases me and grabs Paul by his shirt and slams him into a car. “Listen to me. I know your father is a piece of shit. I had one like that, too. I’m giving you a fucking break, but it wouldn’t take much to change my mind. Now, get the hell away from me! And stop trying to be like your damn father! Got it?”

  Paul’s face goes white.

  Cash lets him go and grabs me by the arm. “We gotta go.”

  I let him guide me. “Go where?”

  “I screwed up, Chloe. I gotta fix it.”

  “Fix what?”

  We get to his Jeep. “Get in. I’ll explain as I drive.”

  “Explain what?” I see his knuckle is bleeding. “You’re hurt.”

  “Please. Trust me. Get in?” He sounds desperate.

  His tension is contagious. I get in, but as soon as he’s behind the wheel, I start again. “What’s going on, Cash?”

  “They know I broke into the adoption agency.” He drives off.

  “What? You said you weren’t caught.”

  “I kind of was. They know I was there.”

  “Did they call the police?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “But I don’t understand. Why would—?”

  “They’re trying to hide the fact that they kidnapped you. They want us to drop it. And they threatened you. You are Emily.” Fear brightens his eyes.

  My mind’s spinning. “We don’t know that.”

  “Do you think they’d do this if they didn’t have something to hide?” His hits the dashboard with his palm. “Damn it. You’re Emily.”

  My chest tightens, my head spins. “What are we going to do?”

  “We’re going to the police. No. First I’m getting the paperwork, then we’ll go. We’ll show them everything.”

  “Wait. Stop. Let’s think about this. They’ll arrest you for breaking into the agency.”

  “I’m fine with that. As long as they catch that asswipe.”

  Emotion makes it hard to breathe. “I told you not to break into that agency. I told you. Now look what’s happened.”

  “I know!” he says. “I’m sorry.” He keeps driving.

  I keep trying to make sense of this. We are about a mile from his house. But all I can think about is the mess all of this will cause. Mom. Cash. Dad.

  “Dad?” I remember he’s supposed to be in town. I remember I used to go to him for all my problems. He was my superhero.

  “What?” Cash says.

  “I’m calling my dad.” I grab my phone and find his number and hit dial. “Dad?” I say when he picks up.

  “Yeah.”

  Cash speaks up. “Tell him to meet us at the police station.”

  I look at Cash. A sob escapes my lips.

  “Chloe? Is everything okay?”

  “I need you. Can you come to my house?”

  “What’s wrong, baby girl?”

  “I can’t explain it now, just come. Please.”

  “Is this about the adoption?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Just come, okay?”

  “I’m on my way,” he says. “I’m about two hours from town. I’ll be there as soon as I can. You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah.” I hang up and look at Cash. “Take me home.”

  “Let’s get the papers first,” he says.

  “No!” I yell at him. “I want to go home. Damn it. I told you not to do it! Now look what happened.”

  All of a sudden, I hear a big bang. I hear glass shattering.

  Cash slams on his brakes.

  “Get down!” he screams. When I don’t do it, he grabs my head and pushes me down.

  I start to fight him, but then I hear another pop. Then a thud on the side of Cash’s car.

  “Please tell me someone isn’t shooting at us!” I scream.

  Cash doesn’t answer—he is too busy driving.

  The car swerves and I hear another pop.

  Cash turns the wheel, and the car jolts like he hit something. I’m jerked around, and the seat belt cuts into my side. I scream again.

  The back end of the Jeep swerves. We start spinning. Cash never stops fighting the steering wheel. He finally gets the car straight—then he floors the gas. He’s white-knuckling the steering wheel.

  “Is he gone?” I ask.

  “Stay down!” Cash yells, and he’s looking behind him. “I knocked him off the road.”

  I close my eyes and pray. Seconds inch by. Then a minute. I don’t hear another pop. I don’t hear the car, just the sound of my own breath. But I don’t sit up; I’m too scared to move. Suddenly, Cash takes a sharp right and comes to a screeching halt.

  I open my eyes and see the horse statue. Then I see a man looking at us from a booth. “Slow down, Cash!”

  “Call 911!” Cash yells. “Someone’s shooting at us. Send the police to my house. And if a black Corolla tries to get by, stop them! He’s got a gun. Now, open the damn gate!”

  The man starts moving. Cash slams his foot down on
the gas. We race forward. A minute goes past.

  I watch as he reaches up and hits a garage opener attached to his sun visor. Then he takes a sharp right again.

  I hear the sound of a garage door opening. He drives inside and then starts hitting the garage button to close.

  He looks over his shoulder. “Come on!” he orders me. “Let’s get inside!”

  “I’m scared!” I cry out.

  “Come on, Chloe.”

  I manage to undo my seat belt. He rushes around the other side of the Jeep and practically yanks me out.

  He has me by the arm and bolts inside the house. His house. The Fullers’ house. He stops in the kitchen and looks back. “Follow me.”

  “Where?” I ask.

  “Mr. Fuller has a gun in his weight room.”

  “You think he’s still coming?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m not waiting to see.”

  My insides are trembling. I follow him upstairs to a home gym.

  He runs to a cabinet and opens it. Then he pulls out a gun.

  Seeing it brings on another wave of fear. “Do you know how to use it?”

  “Yeah,” he says.

  And I don’t know if that makes me feel worse or better.

  “Follow me,” he says.

  I do as he says and we move down the hall. He opens a door and rushes to a window.

  I stand there. My heart’s thumping. I hear it in my ears, feel it in the base of my neck.

  Then I hear a meow. I look down, and an old red tabby is standing at my feet. He rises up and sniffs the air. As if he’s sniffing me. Felix. My heart clutches.

  Tears fill my eyes. I look around. The room’s pink. There’s a trundle bed with a rainbow bedspread. There’re cabinets lined with pictures, toys, and books. I walk over to a shelf and touch a teddy bear—my heart stops. Everything is familiar. Everything is … mine.

  “Shit!” Cash says.

  “Is he coming?” I manage to ask.

  “No, it’s not him. It’s Mrs. Fuller.”

  I hear a door slam downstairs.

  * * *

  “Damn it!” Rodney rammed his fist into the dashboard and tried again to start the engine. It rolled over, but didn’t catch.