Rock My Body (Black Falcon #4) (26 page)

“Yeah, man, we’ll understand. We won’t know you’re feeling left out or anxious if you don’t tell us how you feel,” Riff adds. “That’s what we’re here for, to help each other in rough times.”

I nod while relief washes through me that we’re finally getting everything out on the table. “I swear there will be no more drama from me. I fucked up. I know that now, and all I can do is say that I’m sorry, and that I
will
work hard, every day, to stay clean and focused.”

“We know you will, man, and we’re all here to support you—and kick your ass if you start to fuck up again.” Trip holds his fist out for me to bump. “We’re brothers.” He glances at Riff and Noel, who nod in agreement. “All of us. We’ve got each other’s backs. Always. That’s what makes us the greatest fucking rock band on this planet.”

I pound my knuckles into his and wipe away the tears that have fallen down my face. “I love all of you guys.”

I sniff and try to regain my composure as I turn in Frannie’s direction and place my hand on her knee. “I especially love this lady right here. I’ll never be able to thank her enough for showing me how to open up, and letting me see that sharing my feelings is okay.”

She places her small, warm hand on mine, and she smiles. “I love you, too.”

Finally, after struggling for the last few years, I feel at peace, and the nagging thoughts of doom are the furthest thing from my mind because, surely, nothing this good is bound to fall through. Everything in my life seems to be falling into place.

“Creep” – Radiohead

Tomorrow is the day the blackmailer will be expecting their two-million-dollar payment. Tyke and I have both come to the conclusion that we aren’t paying the money, so it’s inevitable that we will be outed.

Deciding to go on the road with Tyke is a huge deal. I’ll essentially be leaving everything I’ve worked so hard for behind, but I’ve decided I would like to try my hand at helping the less fortunate with their addictions. I think helping people who have absolutely nothing will be a better way of dedicating my time. I’d even love to find a place where I could simply volunteer my time.

I’m focusing on the letter of resignation I’ve been working on for the past twenty minutes on my laptop when a knock on my office door startles me. “Come in.”

Wayne strolls in, looking impeccable as ever in his pressed suit and matching graying hair. “I don’t mean to disturb you, but Timothy is about to start doing random room inspections while Randall is leading a group activity outside, and I would like you to assist him so it can go faster.”

I close the lid of my laptop and smile. “Sure. I’d be happy to help.”

“Great, thank you. Timothy is already on the second level,” Wayne informs me and exits the office just as quickly as he came in.

When I find Timothy upstairs, he has a clipboard in hand, making notes. His towering frame was intimidating when I first arrived here, but I’ve come to know him as a big teddy bear, one who’s strictly by the book. I don’t know him personally; I just know that he takes his job very seriously.

“Hi,” I greet him as I step next to him. “Wayne asked me to help you toss the rooms. Are we looking for contraband? I’ve never searched someone’s things before.”

Timothy nods and pulls his gaze away from the paperwork in front of him. “We sweep everything. Addicts, especially ones who have been here before, are very good at hiding anything they don’t want to be caught with. The ones sent here through court orders are the ones who are the most likely to hide things. The ones who elect to seek treatment themselves tend to be the clients who really do try to abstain from whatever they’re addicted to. Don’t take those assumptions as gospel, though—go through every nook and cranny. Here,” he hands me a pair of rubber gloves, “You’ll want to wear these.”

“Got it,” I say, understanding exactly what I’m to do. “What room would you like me to do first?”

He checks his clipboard again. “I just came from Tyke’s room—he’s clean. Arnold is next on my list, so you can take him, and I’ll take the next one on the list. If you find anything, come get me and we’ll inventory it together.”

“Will do.” I step over to the room next to Tyke’s and point at the door. “This one is Arnold’s?”

After I get confirmation that it is the right room, I twist the knob and head in. My hands grow clammy in the rubber gloves as I begin poking around in Arnold’s drawers. Everything in here appears to be typical—socks, underwear and a never-ending collection of sweaters, which I still find fucking weird considering the temperature outside.

Next, I move on to the closet, where I find all of Arnold’s khaki pants hung neatly in a row.

“Doesn’t this guy ever get tired of wearing the same shit,” I mumble to myself.

After I have swept every drawer and the closet, the last place I’m supposed to look, according to all the movies about prison I’ve ever seen, is underneath the mattress.

I pull back the cover and sheets on Arnold’s neat bed and pull the pillow from its case, finding nothing. Finally, I lift the mattress, and my eyes land on the notebook I gave him a few weeks ago. I pick it up and turn it over in my hands. This doesn’t look like it contains any paraphernalia, but I’m curious as to what this thing might contain since Arnold refuses to allow me to see it.

It’s an invasion of privacy, but I open it up and flipped through it. There are a lot of weird scribbles—drawings of flowers and prom dresses—and it seems to have several journal entries. That doesn’t surprise me at all. I shouldn’t have expected it to be filled with anything other than the one incident that I know he’s obsessed with.

Just as I’m about to close it, a name catches my eye, and I quickly flick the page back to make sure I really just saw what I thought I did. There, amongst the intelligible scribbles, is a heart with the words Arnie plus Annie scratched across the middle of it.

It could be a coincidence. I mean, how is it possible that one of my clients, other than Tyke, would even know about my sister. Annie is a common name, right?

I go back to the first page and begin scanning the pages with a more careful eye. Sentence after sentence, line after line, the same name appears. Annie . . . Annie . . . Annie.

“When Annie turned me down for Junior Prom at Walter Payton . . .”

“I watched Annie from afar, but she didn’t know. She didn’t suspect. One day, I wanted to make her love me. Annie should’ve been mine.”

I gasp and cover my mouth with my hand. Goose bumps erupt all over my body and a chill runs down my spine as I stare at the thoughts of a clearly unwell man, but what shocks me even more and confirms my worst fear is that he lists the high school that Annie and I attended.

“Oh, my God.” I remember him. Arnold is Arnie, from our high school. I remember when he asked my sister to prom, and I laughed at him while my sweet sister let him down easy. It was cruel of me to do that, but we were seventeen and I couldn’t believe a four-eyed geek like Arnie thought he had a snowball’s chance in hell with Annie.

I race through the book where each page chronicles Arnie following my sister to college and then on to adult life.

“I was supposed to be on that flight with her, but the idiot cab driver made me late by taking a route that lead to a traffic jam. I’ll never forgive myself for not dying with her. We were meant to be together forever, dead in eternal bliss. The feelings I had toward Annie didn’t go away. I had to find a way to continue my obsession. Lucky for me she had an identical twin sister. It felt too good to watch Frannie the way I did Annie. I could pretend she was my Annie. If I couldn’t have Annie, I would have her substitute.”

I swallow hard as things begin to click and fall into place. If Arnie went from following my sister to following me, he could’ve been lurking around that frat party and taken that picture of me that the blackmailer sent. That was shortly after Annie died, so it would fit with the timeline.

“My parents found out about my obsession. They found my scrapbook where I created pictures of mine and Frannie’s wedding. I thought it was beautiful. My mother thought it was disgusting. They wanted to send me away—lock me up where I couldn’t follow Frannie anymore, but I couldn’t have that. My parents cut me off—took my trust away, but that won’t stop me. I’ll find ways to get money. No one will take my Frannie away from me. No one. I’ll kill anyone who tries. So, I ran away. Changed my name and followed her to the rehab center I knew she got a job at. This is the perfect place for me to get close to her.”

My heart thunders in my chest. If this hadn’t been discovered, how far would Arnie have gone? Would he have hurt me? Would he have hurt Tyke?

“You okay in here?” Timothy’s deep voice causes me to jump.

I place my hand over my chest as I turn around to face him. “I . . . I don’t know.”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he says, stepping farther into the room. “Did you find something?”

I nod and hold out the notebook to Timothy with a shaky hand. “You could say that.”

Timothy’s brow creases as he takes the book and tucks the clipboard under his arm. His eyes scan through the last entry that I read and his head snaps back up to meet my stare. “Has he hurt you?”

I shake my head. “No, but . . .”

I hesitate. If I tell Timothy about the things Arnold has been emailing me then I’ll be fired before I have the chance to quit. Timothy is too straitlaced to keep this secret for me.

“But what?” he probes.

I might as well lay it all out. It’s better coming from me than from Arnold. God knows what he’s capable of, or what he’ll do when he discovers that I know exactly who he is and what he’s been up to.

“I believe Arnold has been emailing me—blackmailing me with pictures and videos.” I pull my phone out of my back pocket and pull up the picture of me with Tyke. “He sent me this after catching us in the woods.”

Timothy squints as studies the thumbnail on the screen. “Are you saying you’ve been having an inappropriate relationship with a client?”

I pull the phone back and stuff it into my pocket. “It’s wrong—unethical and completely against the Hippocratic Oath, I know, which is why I was just in the middle of writing my letter of resignation. I knew this was going to come out because someone filmed us, but I was hoping by quitting it would all go away. I tried to stop it from happening.”

He sighs. “You know I have to report this, don’t you?”

“I know,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

Timothy takes a moment to scan my face and his lips turn down into a frown. “I can see that, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry that I have to say something. If it didn’t go against everything I believe, I would keep it to myself.” He lays Arnie’s journal on his clipboard. “I’m going to go explain everything to Dr. Shepherd. He’ll take over from here.”

I nod. “Okay.”

While I’m in my cabin packing, a knock on my door causes my heart to sink. I’m sure this is Wayne coming to fire me.

I open the door and surprise washes over me when I discover Tyke standing before me, looking absolutely edible in his jeans and T-shirt.

“Tyke? What are you doing here?” I question.

He pushes his blond hair back from his face and then shoves his hands deep in his front pockets. “Dr. Shepherd and I just had a talk in his office.”

I bite my bottom lip. “What did he say to you?”

“He knows everything about us, and he mainly questioned how I felt about the situation. He wanted—” A grin crosses his face as he pauses for a brief second. “He wanted to know if you had taken advantage of me in my vulnerable state, because you crossed the line with me since I was your client.”

I run my fingers through my hair. “And?”

Tyke laughs. “I told him you raped me.”

I smack his arm. “That’s not funny. This shit is serious.”

He grips my hips and tugs me closer to him. “I know. That was a poor choice of joke. I told him that I’m in love with you, and that I pursued you until you finally gave in. I explained how you fought against the inevitable really hard, telling me how wrong it was, but I made it impossible for you to not fall in love with me.”

I put my arms around his neck. “You did make it tough on me to hold out.”