by C. C. Piper
Evan woke up forty-five minutes after James left. My brother was too out of it to make any kind of coherent sense at first, and then once his eyes seemed more alert, he had trouble speaking due to his jaw being wired shut.
I did my best to bank my anger at him. I needed to find out all I could, so I could figure out exactly what we were up against.
Ultimately, we ended up resorting to a notepad and pen to communicate. Good thing he was right-handed. His facial swelling had gone down a little, but his eyes were still nothing but slits.
“Who did this to you?” I asked him. I might not be willing to scream him stupid, but that didn’t mean I would pull any punches.
He sighed, then wrote: Benny’s men.
“So you’ve been gambling again.”
He nodded and then winced in pain. I wanted to not care, to remain pissed off at him, but I couldn’t help offering him some sympathy.
“I’m sorry you’re hurting.” I gave him a minute, then broke the silence. “You tested positive for cocaine and oxycontin.”
I worked a double shift, then they asked me to do a triple. I needed an energy boost.
“So drink a Redbull,” I spat at him, my irritation getting the better of me.
He wrote out something but then held the paper close to himself as if hesitant for me to read it.
“Just let the cat out of the bag already.”
He pushed his head back into the pillow as if expecting a blow.
I asked Benny for an advance so I could buy the coke. I now owe him $15K.
“Son of a bitch,” I exclaimed, running my hands through my hair. I hit a knot and had to pause to unravel the tangle. I’d never even bothered to brush my hair today and realized I must look like a hot mess.
Had I only been back for less than a day? It felt like so much longer.
Sorry.
“No, you’re not. If you were sorry, you would’ve stopped doing this bullshit a long time ago.”
The gray-haired nurse marched in then, halting the momentum of our conversation. “Ah, you’re awake. That’s good news.”
He tried to speak, but all that escaped him was an incomprehensible grunt, so he wrote out: I’m really sore.
“Well, I apologize, Mr. Morris, but the doctor has ordered that you can’t be on pain meds due to what’s already in your system.”
His face stretched as if his features wanted to express surprise. Or maybe dismay. But he’d made his bed, and now, he was going to have to lay in it.
She took his temperature and made notes of all his vital signs, then hopped back out again.
What are you going to do? He wrote, once we were alone.
“What do you expect me to do?”
Can you get the money?
“I’ve already stolen fifty thousand in cash for you. You promised me we’d never have to go through this again. And now you need another fifteen grand more. If you had any idea how much that fifty thousand cost me, you wouldn’t ask.”
I need you to get that money, Em. Benny’s men are some bad dudes.
“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before becoming affiliated with them.”
They said they’d snuff me out if I didn’t have it by a week from Monday.
“A week from Monday?” I barked at him in disbelief, throwing up my hands in exasperation. “Well, I guess I have no choice, then, do I?”
Right then, I sort of hated my brother.
Even if he was covered in bandages.
21
James
As I entered the sliding automated doors of the hospital, I debated whether or not I should tell Emma about the state of her apartment. There’d been a broken lamp, probably from when whoever had attacked her brother had overpowered him. But beyond that, it appeared as if squatters had taken the sad little residence over.
They’d been empty pizza boxes piled on the coffee table and dirty laundry flung on the floor of the living room. The kitchen the sink had been overflowing with food encrusted dishes with flies buzzing over the trash can. The space had reeked, smelling like a mix of a garbage dump and stinky feet. I’d even considered hiring a cleaning service to come in before thinking better of it.
Technically, their abode was a crime scene and shouldn’t be disturbed.
Since we’d headed straight to the hospital, Emma was unaware of this, but while I needed to tell her, I thought it better to wait for a more opportune moment. She was going through so much and I wanted to save her from trauma. The last thing she needed right now was a nervous breakdown and I refused to be the straw that broke the camel’s back.
I almost contacted the police. Almost. The only reason I hadn’t was because this whole situation with her brother smacked of illegal activity, and I didn’t want Emma brought in for questioning or worse, arrested for Evan’s misdeeds. I needed to collect more information before I brought in the authorities. I didn’t have all the variables yet and had to defer my decision until I did.
I approached Evan’s hospital room, calculating what I could say. I’d managed to collect a few bits and bobs from their place, including some pajamas for him as Emma had requested, so at least I wasn’t arriving empty-handed. I’d have to measure my words cautiously.
I’d been just about ready to knock on his closed door when I heard a raised voice. My wife’s. She must’ve been on the phone. And she sounded frazzled. Actually, she sounded more than frazzled. She sounded like she was a millimeter away from coming totally unglued.
“I’ve already stolen fifty thousand in cash for you. You promised me we’d never have to go through this again. And now you need another fifteen grand more? If you had any idea how much that fifty thousand cost me, you wouldn’t ask.”
Who was she talking to? And who wanted fifteen grand more? I sincerely doubted that Emma had those sorts of funds.
Then, I heard, “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before becoming affiliated with them.”
Another pause.
“A week from Monday?” she next snapped out, sounding both shocked and furious. What was going down a week from Monday? “Well, I guess I have no choice, then, do I?”
Now I felt doubly stumped. What did she have no choice about?
A nurse came by and disappeared into Evan’s room. Emma backed out of the door, nearly flattening me.
“James, I didn’t see you.” She threw me one brief glimpse before rapidly glancing away.
“I found Evan’s PJs, but I don’t want you going back to your apartment. It’s a disaster area.”
“God…” Her hazel eyes became distraught as she dropped her head into her hands. Maybe I shouldn’t have told her after all.
“Just do me a favor and let me go with you if you want to return.”
“Did you contact the police?” she asked without showing her face.
“I didn’t,” I admitted. “I don’t want to get your brother in more trouble than he’s already in.”
She breathed out a sigh of relief. I felt glad to know I’d made the right decision.
“They’re taking him for some scans, and after that, he’ll be moving him into his own room on another floor. They told me it’ll likely be a few hours before I can see him again.” She rubbed her eyes like a child.
“Sounds like he’s in good hands. Why don’t you let me bring you to the villa so you can take a nap, baby? You’re dead on your feet. We can come back once they’ve got him squared away.”
For a moment, she looked like she might argue with me, but then she relented. “Okay.”
By the time we got home, it was dark. We cuddled up in my bed, but other than removing our shoes, we remained fully clothed. She slept hard, and a few hours later when I woke, she was still sleeping soundly.
She was on my right. Maybe that would become her side from now on. I liked that idea. In fact, I loved it. Already we were establishing how we’d live together as a married couple.
I went into the kitchen and whipped up a hearty omelet with kielbasa and p
rovolone cheese, making some mashed potatoes at the same time. It might be kind of a bizarre combination to offer for breakfast, but disheartening times like this called for comfort food. And sure enough, Emma chose the mashed potatoes over the more traditional fare.
At the table, we ate in silence. She kept staring off over the expanse of desert outside, her gaze glassy and far away. She was quiet and morose, but considering all the upheaval going on, it was more than understandable.
“I feel awful for messing up your negotiations,” she said from out of the blue.
“Don’t worry, baby. Delaying is no big deal. And if it falls through, there’s lots of other properties we can build on in L.A. It’s not like there’s not plenty of square footage around.”
As was her custom, Emma cleared the table. “I need to go see Evan.”
“Of course. Let me just make a quick call, and we can go—”
“No,” she cut me off. I fixed my gaze on her, confused. “I mean, I know you have work you need to attend to.”
I took her hand in mine. “I’ll postpone it. You’ll always take precedence over my work, Emma.”
A flash of pain crossed her face, but I wasn’t sure why. Probably just worry over her brother. “But it’s not necessary.” She squeezed my fingers and smiled. The only thing was, that smile came off as somewhat plastered on. “Why don’t you play catch up today, and I’ll go to the hospital?”
“I want to support you.”
That same flash of pain appeared behind her hazel eyes again. What was that?
“You’ve been so supportive already. I appreciate it, too. But he’s out of the woods now. It’d be silly for you to waste another whole day in a waiting room when I’ll basically be sitting in a chair watching him sleep.”
I hadn’t mentioned what I’d overheard yesterday because I didn’t want to infringe on her privacy. She must’ve been talking to her brother in a one-sided discussion. It sounded as if he’d been threatened and needed money to get out of it, but he’d already received a pummeling frightening enough to land him in the ICU.
Damn, this kid sure didn’t do anything halfway, did he?
“I really don’t mind,” I told her. “As far as I’m concerned, my most important job is being there for you.”
Then, her features softened, even if they seemed sad. “You have been there for me. You even made me mashed potatoes this morning.”
“I’ll make them three meals a day if it helps.”
She chuckled under her breath, but it sounded more defeated than I’d like. “Focus on your work today. I’ll feel guilty if you don’t. I’ll text you with updates on his progress.”
Inwardly, I sighed. I wanted to keep her within arm’s reach, but I didn’t want her feeling guilty. Especially on my behalf. She had enough to deal with. And truthfully, a bit of damage control with my real estate contact in L.A. wouldn’t go amiss.
“All right. I’ll get Kevin or Charlie over here to take you and bring you back later. But text me once you arrive and let me know if you need anything.”
“Sure.”
A half-hour later, my phone chimed.
I’m here in the parking lot of the hospital.
I sent back, Thanks for texting me. Love you.
A minute went by, then I received, Love you, too.
I grinned to myself like a love-struck idiot. It felt outrageously good to read those words on my screen and know they were from Emma.
Still, something kept niggling at the back of my skull, like a scratchy tag sewn into the seam of a shirt. She’d seemed… off ever since we’d returned from California. But then again, her brother was a living, breathing clusterfuck apparently.
That’s probably all it was.
22
Emma
I’d purposely texted James from the hospital parking lot so I wouldn’t be lying to him. I was going to have to mislead him about so many other things, and I didn’t want to compound my fabrications any time I could actually tell the truth. Which was stupid. I must be the world’s biggest blockhead to try to rationalize this sort of thought process to myself.
As if what I was about to do wouldn’t hurt him.
It’d hurt me, too. Hell, it might just destroy me. I’d be blowing up our entire relationship—and marriage—to save my brother. It sucked ass, but it couldn’t be helped. Evan had gone too far this time, and now his life was in danger. Next time Benny’s goons wouldn’t stop at a few broken bones and a couple of black eyes. Next time, they’d murder him outright. I couldn’t let that happen.
My brother might be an imbecile, but he was the only family I had left.
Other than James, but I couldn’t think that way. I’d floated into his life for all the wrong reasons. We shouldn’t have fallen for one another and Evan’s antics had proven that. My existence was too fucked up to involve James Carter. All I’d ever cause him would be sorrow, so breaking away from him before things went any further would ultimately be a kindness.
He’d understand that someday. I hoped.
Once Charlie drove off, I immediately called a taxi service and went straight home. The apartment was a wreck just like James had said. I never should’ve agreed to move to the villa, even temporarily.
I tore through Evan’s room, finding two different stashes of pills and powder. Goddamn it. I should’ve known. I’d been dealing with his bullshit for years now. I’d gone with James because my heart was drawn to his, even if I’d been slow to admit this to myself.
After I flushed all his crap, I cleaned everything up. I was enraged, but I refused to leave any evidence behind. I couldn’t let my brother get in deeper trouble than he was already in.
I hopped in the shower and donned an outfit that was both dressy and flirty. I was glad the clothing James had purchased for me was still at his place. I didn’t want to besmirch that beautiful attire with what I was about to do.
Once ready, I drove to the casino. More than ever, everything inside of me wanted to turn back, to not go through with this. A voice at the back of my head was screaming at me to go back, but I ignored it. My eyes felt hot and stingy all of the sudden, but I closed that emotion down ruthlessly.
I had to do what I had to do.
Taking a deep breath, I retrieved my phone.
James,
I’m sorry to do this by text, but it has to be over between us. I’ll come by and retrieve my belongings in a day or so. If you want to legally separate, I will. Or if you want to file for divorce, I’ll sign the papers with no questions asked. You, of course, owe me nothing, and I want to make things as easy for you as possible.
Emma
I read the message over several times, feeling like I needed to puke. Then, my breath hitching, I pressed send. As soon as I did, I switched off the power on my phone. Swallowing back the tumult of my regret, I threw my cell into my handbag and entered the casino.
Just like I had a few weeks ago, I pretended that I wasn’t Emma Morris. Or Emma Carter, my traitorous brain whispered, making me ache. I mercilessly squelched the thought and the anguish that came with it. I wasn’t me because I had to portray a character, a female con artist who could somehow talk some elderly man out of fifteen grand.
Maybe I’d tell him it was an investment. Or maybe I’d tell him some sob story to play on his sympathy. Maybe I’d even reference “my baby brother who’s laid up in the hospital.” At least that much would be honest.
In my dress and heels, I scoped out the card tables and higher-end slot machines. Stiffening my spine, I strode forward.
I wound up begging, basically. By the time I left, I’d managed to hustle myself just under five thousand dollars. I felt demoralized. Not only because I hadn’t met the quota I’d needed, but also because I felt dirty.
I promised myself I’d never have to go through something so objectionable after taking all that money from James. Yet, here I was, doing the same thing all over again. Or at least doing something similar. Maybe because I’d been with James now,
sinking this low felt worse than ever. Not because I’d known luxury and opulence while with him, but because I’d known love while with him. He’d genuinely cared about me, I was sure of it.
And now, other than to sign whatever documents might be required to get me out of his life forever, I’d never be with James again.
I dragged myself to my apartment. When I stepped into our tiny stand-up shower stall, I scrubbed and scrubbed as if I’d been wading through shoulder-deep sewer water. I was such a deplorable human being that I couldn’t stand to be around myself.
When I finally exited, my skin looked red and raw, but I still felt disgusting. I didn’t think even bathing in bleach would make me feel clean again. I was grateful that the hot water steamed up the mirror in the bathroom because I knew I couldn’t bear to look myself in the face.
I was ashamed. So very ashamed.
Dressing in my thickest pajamas, I slipped into bed. It was too warm for such heavy nightclothes, but I needed to cover up. I glanced over at my cell phone on the nightstand. I’d taken it out of my purse to recharge, but I had as of yet to turn it back on.
I was afraid to see what might be waiting for me.
Even though it was still early, I tried to sleep.
For two hours, I tossed and turned, my thoughts an ugly knot I couldn’t untangle. My brother had been beaten and broken. My husband probably hated my fucking guts. And God or the fates or whoever was in charge seemed resolved to knock me down anytime things started to go well for me. I should’ve known the rug would be pulled out from under my feet. I should’ve known that other shoe would inevitably drop.
I was a fool to believe anything else.
My phone caught my eye again. That simple sleek black rectangle seemed to be taunting me. After debating with myself, I hit the home button and turned it back on. I’d ten missed calls and a voicemail, all from James. I’d also received six text messages, five of those from James. Too chickenshit to face any of my husband’s communications, I went to the one I’d gotten from Evan.