I walk over to my car, dropping my keys twice as I try to unlock my phone with my other hand. I hear shuffling behind me, but I reach for the handle before I look back, and lock the doors as soon as I get in.
As I drive away, I notice a figure of a man in the corner of the garage, and it startles me so much that I slam on the brakes, making my car jerk forward. I let go of the brake slowly and continue driving up the curve toward the exit, leaving the dark figure behind. I’m watching my rearview mirror—just in case the figure moves into the light. Please walk into the light. My heart is pounding rapidly with adrenaline as I bite down on the tip of my thumb. I don’t care how late it is—when I get home, I’m hiring security.
I call Cole on my way home and tell him about my meeting with Mark and about what happened in the parking garage.
“Jesus, Blake, you’re freaking me out over here,” he says.
“I’m sorry. I had to tell you, though. I’m getting you security, too. You need it more than we do since you’re in the public eye.”
“Baby, I need it least because of that. Besides, don’t you think it’s a little awkward to have someone my weight and height shadow me?” he asks.
A bubbled laughter escapes me. “I hadn’t thought of that. I guess it is weird, but they’ll be trained and have a weapon, so I’m getting you one regardless.”
He chuckles. “I’ll get my own if it makes you feel better.”
“It does, but we have a list of people, so I’d feel safer if we choose from these.”
“Why are you trusting that Mark guy so much anyway?” he asks curiously.
This is a foreign concept—me trusting anybody outside of my circle.
I shrug, even though he can’t see me. “A gut feeling, I guess.”
“Hmmm, that’s fine. Just call the guys, but I’m paying for them.”
“Cole,” I groan. “It’s my fault we’re in this mess. Let Shelley’s money pay for them.”
“Baby,” he warns.
“Whatever, we’ll figure that out later,” I say quickly. I really don’t need this to turn into an argument.
Chapter 14
Present
After bath time, Mommy always reads me a story. I’m in my pajamas, sitting in bed and waiting for her to pick one out. My mommy is the prettiest mommy ever. She has yellow hair and gray eyes that look like mine. She looks like a princess. Or a fairy. Everyone says I look just like Mommy. I hope so. I hope when I grow up I look pretty like my mommy.
“Tonight, we’ll read Love You Forever,” she says, smiling at me and showing me the book with the messy kid by a potty.
I giggle and crinkle my nose. “That boy is silly.”
Mommy laughs and touches my nose. “Yes, boys are silly. Let’s read the book, so you can go to sleep. Tomorrow is a very important day. Do you know what day it is?”
“My birthday,” I squeal as I clap my hands together.
“Yes, your birthday,” she says, giggling. “You’ll be four. A big girl.”
I see water in Mommy’s gray eyes, and I kiss her cheek. I don’t want Mommy to be sad. She smiles at me and reads me the story. I feel my eyes getting heavy.
The last thing I hear Mommy say before I go to sleep is “As long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be.”
“I love you, Mommy,” I mumble as I drift into sleep.
I wake up with tears streaming down my face. I look at the clock. 3:15. Of course it is. I roll my eyes and get up and wash my face. When I step back in my room, I look at the envelopes on top of my desk and take a deep breath as I walk to them. I sit in my chair and spin around a few times before deciding to open the one I opened the other day. I take out a Ziplock with pictures. The first picture takes my breath away. It’s her. My mom. I just saw her in my dream. She looks much more beautiful in the photo than in my dream, though. She has long dirty-blonde hair and soulful gray eyes. She’s wearing a maxi dress with big flowers on it. Her face is beaming as she looks down at the smiling little girl. The little girl has dirty-blonde hair and big happy gray eyes. Her long eyelashes match my mother’s and she’s wearing a white tank-top dress and silver sandals. In the photo, I look like a miniature version of my mother. Behind us, there’s a handsome man with brown hair and brown eyes. He’s dressed in a short-sleeve polo and khaki pants and he’s smiling as he watches us.
I take a few deep breaths and continue to sort through pictures. They’re more of the same—until they’re not. There’s a batch of pictures of me running in a large plain of grass. Most are me by myself. Some are me and a boy. The boy from my dreams; Nathan. I squint my eyes to study him, but the pictures were taken from a far angle. After looking through those, I put everything away and beg sleep to take me when I lie back down. I wake up again at 8:00 and get ready for class.
“Hey,” Aimee says when I walk into the kitchen.
She’s been staying here a lot recently. I greet her and Bruce, my security guard, or shadow as he calls himself. Bruce is a kind, older man. We’re only going to have him around until the deal for the land is signed on the other end. Then I want life to go back to normal—whatever that is.
Aimee and I arrive at school, and she’s still talking to me about Thanksgiving. I tell her that I’m going to spend it with Cole at Maggie’s this year. She tells me to invite Maggie to her house, but I refuse. I know how Maggie is—she won’t want to burden Aimee’s family. Aimee asks me to go with her to her parents’ house after class, so she can pick up some things that she needs. I’d been wanting her to invite me for a long time but only because I wanted more information about Mark. Now that I have access to him I don’t really care to go. I agree to go with her anyway. I’m curious to see the place and figure out why she hates going home so much.
Her father is the mayor, and I assume that he’s personable, but who knows. Maybe he’s so busy and stressed that he’s an asshole. I also think her mom is probably one of those snobs that spends her husband’s money and goes to charity events to show off her new wardrobe. I can’t imagine why else she’d hate her parents so much if they were nice people.
Aimee’s parents’ house is in Winnekta, which is only a twenty-minute ride from school—in slight traffic. We drive through an affluent neighborhood, where the kids are outside riding bikes and older folk are watering their garden—all without a care in the world. We pull up to a huge brick house and my eyes widen at the sight of it. This is the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen in real life.
I turn in my seat to face Aimee. “This is your parents’ house?”
“Yup,” she draws out. “Trust me, it’s as dead as it is lavish.”
I purse my lips but continue to look around as she makes the drive toward it. There are topiaries on both sides, lining the long circular driveway. When I get out of the car, I look at the house across the street and do a triple-take as I slap my hand over my mouth.
“Wait a minute...is that...do you live in front of Kevin?” I ask shriek.
Aimee laughs loudly. “Kevin?” she asks in amusement.