Forever & More: The Friend Zone series (23 page)

“Yeah, well, I am. So quit givin’ the poor man hell,” I tell her.

“Fucking traitor,” she spits at me. I don’t respond, I just roll my eyes.

We joke the rest of the way to Doctor Cox’s office, lifting the spirits that the impending winter drug down.

“I will be back before y’all get done,” Harley informs us as he helps Sara into her chair.

I take his place behind Sara while he plants a kiss on her cheek. That’s not good enough for her; she grabs his face, angles his chin, and shoves her tongue down his throat. Their public display of affection leaves me with a deep feeling of nostalgia.

I can feel the emotions starting to mix and settle heavily on my chest and it hurts. It’s so painful, I want to rip my heart out of my chest and stomp on it myself. Harley pulls himself away from Sara, his cheeks are tinted a rose color, his eyes never meet mine. He turns to walk away and Sara’s palm meets his back pockets with a loud slap.

I roll my eyes and begin to roll her away. With Sara, I never feel like I need to hold back, she knows the best and worst parts of me. She’s the one person on this earth I’m confident will never leave me, for better or worse. She’s going to be there to the end.

“I miss him,” I pout.

“I know, love, I know.” She reaches her hand back and sets it on my shoulder.

We enter the building and I’m immediately ushered to Dr. Cox’s office. The walls are a soft yellow color, making the room look happy and bright.

“Have a seat wherever you’re comfortable,” Doctor Cox says behind her cherry wood desk. I take the burgundy, high-back chair next to her desk.

“How have you been?” she starts the conversation.

“I’m good,” I reply, only half lying. She looks like she doesn’t believe me.

“How’s the baby doing?”

“SHE’S doing great!” I sit up higher in my chair. This is a topic I can discuss and no matter what mood I’m in, I immediately perk up.

“She?” Her eyes widen simultaneously with her smile. “That’s amazing news. Do you have a name in mind?” she asks. I do have a name in mind, I just didn’t want to make that decision without Skye. But right now, in this moment, with the excitement of having a sweet little girl, it feels right.

“I do. I’m thinking Skylar Cheyenne.” No one’s name on my lips has ever tasted so sweet. My sweet little hummingbird, Skylar Cheyenne. The new love of my life. It amazes me with the amount of love that floods me every time I think about her. It feels like air filling my veins and lifting me up. I feel so light and loved it makes me dizzy.

“That’s a beautiful name,” she comments. “So, is there anything in particular you’d like to discuss today?”

“Not really.” I don’t want to start digging up old bones.

“Well, we need to break some ground. You remember the conversation we had in the hospital about what the judge and social worker agreed to?” she reminds me. Of course, I remember, it’s everything I can do to not think about me slipping up in some way and them snatching Skylar from me.

“Just tell me where you want me to start I guess. I’ve never really done this before.” I wring my hands together, dreading that I’m about to have to relive my nightmare, hopefully for the last time.

“How about you start at the beginning. That’s usually the easiest place to start,” she tells me.

As she suggested, I start at the beginning. My body starts getting fuzzy from describing the moment I laid eyes on Skye for the first time in years. I probably go into detail overload describing how just looking at him would light me on fire. The way his green gaze burned a hole through my heart and soul, then filling the gaping gap with his presence.

I talk and talk and talk, unloading any and every bottled up emotion right into her poor, unsuspecting lap. When she asked me to open up, I’m positive that she wasn’t expecting all of this. I continue to talk, barely coming up for air until she stops me.

“I know we are on a roll, but I have to stop you here. I have another patient coming in.” She sets her pen down on her desk. “How are you feeling now though, after reliving all of that?”

“Well, I don’t feel like I want to die anymore,” I joke. Her face completely goes blank at my comment.

“I think we should refrain from joking about such matters,” she scolds me.

“Sorry,” I respond uncomfortably. I feel like an asshole now.

Clearing my throat, I start over. “I feel like I can move on. It’s almost like it’s been erased, it’s not that I’m denying that it happened, but it doesn’t affect me anymore. I feel free. Does that make sense?”

“Absolutely. You’re no longer living that struggle. You’re finally able to live your future without having to outrun your past.” She’s right. She took the words right out of my mouth. I knew what I wanted to say, but I just didn’t know how to put it into the exact words to express myself, but she got it perfectly.

I don’t know what to say anymore since she just said it all. She just perfectly summed up how I have felt since trial ended.

Doctor Cox walks me out of the office. When we enter the lobby, Sara and Harley both are waiting for me. I say my goodbyes and we leave.

The rest of the evening is spent at home in front of the television, watching reruns of Friends and pigging out on perfectly cooked chicken and al dente noodles covered in cheese sauce. Nothing could make this night better, except if Skye was with us.

“Yo, hoe face! You taking a nap?” Sara shouts, coming in the front door. Harley pushes her to the end of the couch.

“No, just thinking.” I scooch up higher. “What’d the doctor say?” I ask Sara.

“They think they can repair the nerve damage with surgery, but it’s not a definite. I’ll still have to do physical therapy, but it’s doable.” Her nonchalant tone has my eyebrow cocking. I’m not sure why she’s not happier about the possibility of regaining her legs. I make a mental note to ask her later, but Sara doesn’t make me wait long.

I pull up off the couch and walk to the bathroom, Sara follows. While I’m relieving myself, she stays in the doorway.

“What’s up with you?” I ask. We are definitely way more comfortable with each other than we should be.

“I don’t know. Just don’t wanna get my hopes up, ya know?” She half smiles.

“I know, honey. Just like with me, it’ll all work itself out.”

“Yeah, I reckon so. We’ll see.” I clean myself and wash my hands. She backs out of the door so I can exit.

There’s a knock and then Brady’s loud mouth bellows across the apartment.

“Where’s my bitches. Daddy brought the bacon!” Since the trial, he and Kasey have become permanent fixtures around here.

“Shut up, dude,” Kasey’s shy voice scolds him.

“Who the fuck let you in here?” Sara sasses Brady.

“I got the key you left under the rug for me, sweetie.” He passes her and plants a kiss on her cheek, taunting Harley.

“You’re a dick,” Harley tells him from the kitchen.

Brady saunters across the room toward me. I just stand there; he’d chase me down if I moved anyway.

“How’s Uncle Brady’s sweet pea today?” he baby talks to my belly. His hands are placed on each side of my tiny bump to hold me in place.

“Has mommy been feeding my sweet princess?” His ear goes to my stomach, his voice goes silent.

“She hasn’t?” he gasps. I roll my eyes, place my hands over his to remove him but he doesn’t budge.

“Uncle Brady thinks we should go get you some yum yum. Does my princess want Chinese or Mexican?” He listens to my stomach again. “Okay, sweetness. Chinese it is.” He kisses my stomach causing me to cringe. This is his routine. He comes in, pisses Harley off, talks shit to Sara, and then talks to Skylar.

“Get in the car, sunshine, it’s time to get some grub. My niece is starving.” He smirks.

“I just ate,” I argue

“Apparently not enough, let’s roll.” He starts guiding me toward the door. I don’t put up too much of a fight because honestly, the sandwich I just ate isn’t hittin’ on much.

“Come on, Harley. I’m starved, let’s go, too,” Sara demands.

We all pile in Brady’s car and head into town. With each passing mile, my stomach gets louder and louder. Brady looks into the rearview mirror with a smug,
I told you so
look that makes me want to smack his face. And believe me, my fingers are twitching, the urge is so strong, but the fact that he’s buying supper tonight makes everything all right.

I’m having a little girl! FUCK, a little girl.
That’s what my mind keeps shouting at me ever since Harley texted me a picture of the ultrasound two months ago. That tiny black and white blur in the photo made it real for me. Before, when I would think about the baby, it was just that. I absolutely adored and loved that child with a love that rivals what I shared with her mother, but it didn’t feel real.

But now, looking at that picture, it’s real, it’s life changing. Looking at that picture, I felt my soul shift. No longer am I Skye, the young, outgoing guitar player. Never again will I be just Brady’s friend, Chloe’s boyfriend—well, ex now—I won’t be the guy in the band. No, now I’m someone’s dad, their protector, comforter, their mentor and friend. I could actually feel the transformation happen.

I was like the Grinch, my heart grew three sizes larger than what it originally was that day, and that sweet angel filled every inch of it. A father’s love is a different kind of love, it’s all encompassing, all consuming. Every action I take is motivated by my love for her and the life I want to provide for my child.

Brady walks in the loft and catches me staring at my phone for the millionth time since I received Harley message.

“Dude, you ready?” he asks.

“Yep,” I say, pushing off the counter and pocketing my phone. Today we’re meeting with the DA at the storage building that houses what’s left of Tom’s possessions outside of town. I finally broke down and called him a week ago to see if he could use his resources to help me find the money. I’m not going to tell him exactly what’s going on, but want see if he can’t dig up affiliates and whereabouts around the time they got in over their head.

I’ve heard nothing from Jay or her people, but I know they are watching; I’ve spotted the guy that roughed me up hanging around outside of BAR and following me. I’ve been waiting for them to approach me about taking so long, but they haven’t. With every day that goes by, I become more and more worried that their patience will run out.

I grab the ledger books for BAR on our way out the door.

“Why’d you call this guy?” Brady asks me. Kasey is waiting downstairs when we reach the bottom.

“I need him to trace the accounts. I don’t want him to know why, I don’t trust him that much, but I’m not getting anywhere so I’m hoping he can,” I tell him.

We say our hellos with Kasey.

“Mind if I ride along?” Kasey knows what’s been going on and has helped some, but he’s been filling for Brady at BAR, so he hasn’t been able to help much.

“Come on. We’re going to meet up with someone and search the storage building,” I inform him. That’s the only place we have left to look for any leads. It took a while for me to convince the storage attendant to let me in the room. The DA also played a huge role in that as well.

We climb into Brady’s car and exit the parking lot. Immediately, I spot the same navy colored sedan that’s been trailing me for days. If this guys trying to stay in the shadows, he’s failing miserably, but if he wants me to know he’s watching, he’s succeeding. Either way, there’s nothing I can do about it at this point.

The car lunges forward and I know that Brady knows about our tail.

“Hang on, man,” he tells Kasey and me. I slide on my seatbelt, knowing Brady is about to give us the ride of a lifetime. The car barely slows when it lifts up on two wheels and takes the first right we come to, then quickly fishtails to the left onto another back road. From my seat in the back, I can clearly read the speedometer over Brady’s shoulder, and the yellow arm strains to touch the number seventy.

“Slow the fuck down,” Kasey voices my thoughts.

“We had someone on our ass. I’m not going to the middle of bum fuck Egypt for them to fucking jump me.” He shifts gears, decelerating just enough to make the next turn without wrecking. At this point, my ass hole is so tight it’s practically inverted into my throat; I’m that fucking scared of his driving.

“Slow the fuck down!” I punch the headrest of his seat to emphasize my words. Like the jackass he is, Brady slams on the breaks, causing the tires to screech until we’ve come to a complete halt. Gravity doesn’t catch up to Brady’s driving abilities until I’m already being snatched back by the seat belt. Kasey isn’t as lucky; his head hits the dash.

“Fuck!” he shouts.

“Whatcha whining about? You wanted me to slow down.” He starts driving again. The two of them start bickering in the front seat. My attention leaves them and focuses on the same sedan that’s trailing us again. He stays farther back this time but never lets us out of his sight.

It takes another ten minutes to arrive at our destination. We pull in to the chain link fence and slowly drive through the rows of garage doors attached to each other. Tom’s unit is hiding away in the very back. When we arrive, Mr. Catledge is already waiting for us. I get out, shake his hand, and make the necessary introductions.

“Thank you for meeting with us. I’m having some trouble with some of Tom’s assets. I found this ledger and there are numerous places that have things missing or don’t make sense,” I tell him, handing the ledger to him.

“You should probably seek the advice of an accountant.”

I hold my hand up stopping his words.

“I’m not asking if you can fix the books. I’m asking if you can track down banks, bankers, transfers, that kind of thing,” I inform him. He studies me for a moment before agreeing to the task.

“I should have something by the end of the week.”

“Sounds good to me. If I come up with anything before I hear from you, I will let you know.”

He nods in agreement. “You mind telling me why I had to meet you all the way out here?” he asks.

“Well, I’ve got to tear this storage building apart, and I wanted to meet you in a secluded place,” I tell him.

“Is everything okay? Are you in some sort of trouble?” He looks concerned.

“Let’s just say Tom possibly had something that belonged to someone else and they want it back.” I can give him that much.

“All right. What exactly are you looking for in the building?” He looks past me to the door that Harley and Kasey are opening.

“The same thing you are,” I answer.

“Want some help?” he offers.

“I think we can handle it, thanks.” I politely decline.

“All right then, give me a call if you need anything else.”

“Will do. Thanks for taking care of this.” I reach out my hand, as does he.

Brady, Kasey, and I spend the next two hours digging through boxes, bags, file cabinets, and so on. Even though we donated or tossed most of his possessions, he still filled the building from top to bottom, corner to corner.

“What the fuck are we even looking for?” Kasey asks.

“How the hell are you looking for something when you don’t even know what it is?”

Kasey shrugs but doesn’t reply.

“Anything legal looking from a bank or lawyer’s office. Or anything shady. I don’t know.” I really don’t know what I’m looking for, I just know I’ll know what it is when I see it. There’s one box left in the corner of the room that I’ve been working on. I sit cross-legged on the floor. When I open the box, a small brown ball comes flying out.

“Holy shit!” I scream like a girl and scramble to my feet. The terrified little mouse runs frantically around the room looking for an escape. Kasey steps out of its path, but Brady starts screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Get it, get it, get it,” he screams, stumbling into a dresser. The dresser and Brady topple over, landing with a loud crash. The mirror propped against the wall behind them shatters into a million pieces. I rush over to help Brady, but Kasey beats me to it. Blood is gushing from the back side of his arm.

“Shit,” he cusses. He pulls his shirt off and makes a tunicate for his arm.

“Help me get the dresser back up.”

Kasey takes one side of the flipped furniture and I take the other. With extreme effort, we lift the heavy oak structure and set it to the side out of the way. Lying on top of the glass is a thin piece of paneling covered with envelopes. I reach down, grabbing the closest one to me. The envelope itself is blank, but it’s stuffed with papers. I pull them out and the first thing I notice is the letterhead. It reads “Cayman National Bank” in bold letters.

My excitement increases, this may very well be what we’ve been looking for. I pull out my phone and call Catledge back.

“Can you come back?” I greet him.

“Sure, everything okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, I just found something else for you.” He tells me he’ll be back in just a few minutes.

“What the hell is that?” Brady asks. I hand him the paper that sits on the top of the folded stack in my hand.

“Dude, this is the offshore account shit, isn’t it?” he asks.

“Pretty sure it is.” I read the first few pages but nothing jumps at me. None of it means anything until I turn the page.

Chloe’s name is all over these papers. I keep turning and it’s the same thing. Her name at the top and various types of transactions and deposit amounts.

By the time I get to the last page, Catledge is back. Brady fills him in on what we found. Months and months of transactions building up and collecting interest to the sum of four million six hundred thousand dollars and thirty two cents. The last transaction was April sixteenth, eight months ago almost to the date.

“Why is Chloe the account holder?” Catledge asks.

“My guess is that Tom either knew something was going to happen and left it for her or he didn’t want it to be traced back to him.” Both are very likely to happen and I’m not sure it matters. What does matter is that we need to figure out a way to withdraw the money to give it to Jay.

“So what now?” Catledge asks.

“Well, I think we just found out where to start looking. I need you to dig up whatever you can.”

“What kind of trouble are you in?”

I look to Brady and Kasey. I want to tell him everything, but I don’t want to drag anyone else into this mess, and it doesn’t help that he works for the law. I decide to keep the information between Brady, Kasey, and myself, for now at least.

“I’m not in trouble. Chloe was missing funds and we needed to figure out where they went.” The look on his face tells me he doesn’t believe me, not even a little bit.

“Don’t forget you have my number if you need it.” He stresses his words.

“I appreciate that, thank you.”

He leaves with a page from the folded documents to start his search.

“So what now?” Kasey speaks for the first time since the mouse attack.

“We get the hell out of here and wait.”

We lock up the building and leave.

During the drive home, we are all silent, lost in our own thoughts.

“Do you think Chloe knows anything about this?” Brady asks.

“Not sure. I don’t think I’m the one to ask her right now, though,” I reply.

“And why’s that?” he asks, damn well already knowing the answer to his question.

I rub my face in frustration and growl, “Don’t start. I’m doing what I think is right. I need to get this taken care of. I don’t wanna get her mixed up in this mess.”

“She’s already in this shit if you haven’t noticed. Her fucking name is all over those papers!” he yells.

“You don’t think I don’t know that already? She has enough to worry about right now. She needs to get better, not worry about a missing million,” I rationalize.

“Oh and you think an absent baby-daddy is any better? Do you even know what’s going on with her right now? Do you know what’s going on with
your
kid right now? Do you know the baby’s name or hell, even the due date? How about her therapy sessions? Do you know how they’re going? Are you there supporting her like you should be?” With each question, I feel smaller and smaller. He’s right, Harley’s kept me up with things like what I’m having or a doctor appointment for the baby but that’s it. I don’t know how she’s doing. I know nothing about her therapy, but, on the other hand, is that something I want to know? She tried to overdose while being pregnant. No matter how badly I want to be with her, it’s not something I can get past. How am I supposed to live my life looking at the woman that tried to kill a part of me? In all reality, she did kill a part of me that day; it was the part that loved her so much it hurt.