Текст книги "Thief"

Автор книги: Tarryn Fisher

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

The door was slightly ajar when I arrived. I was about to knock when it swung open and a man came out carrying a garbage bag. I stepped back, too startled to speak. My thoughts spun in a hundred directions. He wasn’t her type. I was going to kill him. Why was he taking out her trash? Did he sleep here often? I waited for him to look up, thinking every man deserved a chance to explain himself before he got the shit beat out of him.

He was mildly startled to see me standing in front of him. He looked past me to see if I was with someone else, and then said, “Help you?”

He hadn’t pulled the door to Olivia’s apartment closed, and I could see inside.

Empty.

I felt the air leave my lungs. I closed my eyes, tilting my head back. No, no, no.

I walked away, my hands in my hair and circled back to where maintenance was looking at me curiously. My instant jealousy had caused me to miss the uniform and name badge. Why did I leave her? Why didn’t I just stay? I knew she did this. She ran when she was afraid. I thought – what had I thought? That I could keep her because we’d made love? That her demons wouldn’t find her in the orange grove where I’d sold my soul to be with her?

I eyed the badge clipped to the front of his shirt.

“Miguel.” My voice sounded raw even to my ears. Miguel raised his eyebrows as he watched me struggle with a sentence. “When did she – how long?”

“This one’s been open for twenty-four hours,” he said, referring to the apartment behind him. “We have a waiting list. Have to make it ready for next tenants.”

Twenty-four hours? Where did she go? Did she leave right away? Did something scare her away?

I ran a hand through my hair. I’d left her just two days earlier to go settle my affairs. I danced with her in the parking lot before I left. She tried to tell me the truth, but I stopped her. When she found out about the amnesia, she’d think of every possible reason to run from me. I’d planned on locking her in the apartment, making love to her again and convincing her that we could make it work. But, first I had loose ends to tie up.

I’d left Olivia and gone straight to Leah’s townhouse. When she opened the door, I could tell she’d been crying. It took me thirty minutes to break her heart. It hurt me to do it. She had done nothing to deserve what I was doing to her. I told her I’d met someone. She didn’t ask who, though I suspected she knew since she’d followed me to Olivia’s apartment a few weeks earlier. Before I left, I kissed her forehead. I didn’t tell her about the amnesia. I didn’t want to hurt her any more than I already had.

I went to my condo next. As I stood under the shower, I thought of our week together. I thought of the orange grove, the way she tasted, the way her skin felt like cold satin beneath my fingers. When my mind went to that first moment of being inside her, the way her eyes had widened and her lips had parted, I had to blast myself with cold water.

She’d given me everything – everything she’d held back before. She was different. She was also the same. Stubborn, defiant … full of lies.

I tried to break her before. Now, I just wanted her as she was. I wanted every last beautiful flaw. I wanted the witty one-liners and the coldness that only I knew how to warm. I wanted the fight and the friction and the make-up sex. I wanted her to wake up in my bed every morning. I wanted her shitty cooking and her beautiful, complex mind.

I’d gone back on everything I believed, to be with her. I threw truth out the window. I was so afraid she’d forget about me, I’d lied to sneak back into her life. Now, I had inordinate amounts of explaining to do.

I looked at Miguel. He suddenly seemed like my last remaining tie to her.

“Did she leave anything? A note … anything?”

Miguel rubbed the back of his neck. “No, man.”

“Did she say where she was going?”

He sucked his teeth. “I’m just maintenance. They don’t exactly give me a forwarding address.” He looked around to make sure we were alone. “But, if she did leave something it would be in this black garbage bag, which I’m going to set right here while I do a run-through of the apartment.”

He dropped the bag on the floor and gave me a look before stepping back into the apartment and closing the door behind him.

I picked it up, weighed it in my hand. It was light. Had she left me something, telling me where she’d gone? Had Jim come back and scared her off? Had he told her? I knelt down and turned the bag over, dumping its contents on the concrete. I was sweating and my hands were damp as I sifted through the trash. Ripped up papers, broken glass, crushed flower petals … what was I looking for? A letter? Olivia would never write me a letter. It wasn’t her style. This was her style – leaving me without notice, throwing me in the fire to burn. I tossed the bag. Half of my heart was breaking; the other half was hell fucking angry. As the bag fluttered to the ground, I heard the slight tinkering of something hitting the floor. My eyes scanned the concrete, desperate for anything that would lead me to her.

I found it lying between my feet.

A penny.

Had she left it for me, or had she just left it? I picked it up, held it between my fingers. The once shiny surface had the slightly green tinge of aging copper. This was her goodbye? I felt anger and more than anger, I felt confusion. What had I done? The orange grove, the kiss in the parking lot before I left. I’d been so sure of what I felt for her … what she felt for me. There was no way Olivia would have given herself to me if she wasn’t sure of us. Then why? WHY?

I walked to the edge of the parking lot and lifted my fist, the penny pressing against my palm. Toss it, I told myself. My muscles tensed to throw it.

I couldn’t do it. My hand dropped to my side. I put the penny in my pocket and drove home.

She drives me to my car just as the sun starts to come up. Neither of us wanted to leave, but we were both afraid that Bernie would decide to come into the office on a Saturday.

“You’re going to get depressed later,” I tell her when we pull into the Fossy parking lot. “You’ll hate yourself and have a good cry, and then you’ll go to the grocery store and buy ice cream. Don’t.”

She looks at me with big eyes, and I can see the guilt is already starting to creep in.

“I don’t know what I want,” she says. “But, that was very wrong and very unfair to Noah.”

“He left you.”

“Yes.”

“Because you want a baby and he doesn’t.”

“Yes,” she says again.

“And before he left, how often was he around?”

She’s quiet for a long time.

“It’s like he thought he could be married on his terms. Have you at home for when it was convenient for him, but he’s never been there for you.”

“Stop.”

I grab her wrist and hold it. “Why didn’t he come back when Dobson escaped from that damn institution?”

“He said they’d catch him. To sit tight and trust the police.”

“Exactly. He was supposed to protect you. That was his job. He should have been on a plane the minute he found out.”

“That’s not fair,” she says, shaking her head. “He knows I’m tough. He knows I can take care of myself.”

I make a disgusted noise in the back of my throat. This is sad.

“Listen to me,” I grab her face so she has to look at me when I say this, “I know you don’t know this because your dad was a useless shit, and he never did anything to show you how you need to be treated. But you are valuable enough for any and every man in your life to drop everything to protect you. You shouldn’t have to be forced to be strong on your own because no one will stand with you. Your dad failed you. Noah failed you. I will not fail you again.”

I kiss her on the forehead just as she sheds a tear. Just one.

“Round and round and round we go, Olivia. This is about you and me, not you and Noah. Just take a few weeks. Spend some time with me. No decisions until it’s a fair decision.”

“The fair decision would be to do what’s right-”

I cut her off. “For you. Yes, do what’s right for you. Give me some time to show you.”

She opens her pink lips to shoot some venom at me.

“Hush,” I say. “Pack an overnight bag. There’s somewhere I want to take you.”

“I can’t just take off with you! I have a job!”

“I know you took some time off. Bernie told me.”

Olivia looks flabbergasted. “Bernie? When did you talk to Bernie?”

“I ran into her at the grocery store. She was worried about you.”

Her mouth is open. She shakes her head like the idea that anyone is worried about her is ludicrous.

“I’m fine,” she says firmly.

I grab her wrist and pull her into a hug, kissing the top of her head. “No, you’re not. I’m your soulmate. I’m the only one who knows how to heal you.”

She slaps me away, and when I let go, instead of pulling away, she buries her face in my chest like she’s trying to burrow herself into me. I rewrap her in a hug, trying not to laugh.

“Come on, Duchess. It’ll be like the camping trip.”

“Yeah, it’ll be just like that.” Her voice is muffled against my chest. “Except you won’t be lying about having amnesia, and I won’t be lying about not knowing you, and your redheaded bitch of a girlfriend won’t be trashing my apartment while we’re gone.”

I squeeze her tighter. It makes me sick that Leah did that. The things she’s done to keep Olivia and me apart are especially twisted. Almost as twisted as the things I’ve done to keep us together. I grimace and grip her by the shoulders, pulling her away so I can see her face.

“What do you say? Yes?”

“How long will we be gone?”

I think about it. “Four days.”

She shakes her head. “Two.”

“Three,” I counter. “We have to use one of those days for travel.”

She cocks her head and frowns at me. “We’re not really going camping, are we? Because, every time we do – we have some type of emotional catalyst, and I really don’t think I can handle-”

I put a hand over her mouth. “No camping. Pack something nice to wear. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight A.M.”

“Okay.” She tries to act nonchalant, but I can tell she’s excited.

I kiss her forehead. “Bye, Duchess. See you soon.”

I leave without looking back at her. I have no idea where I’m taking her, and I can’t lie and say camping didn’t cross my mind. But, as soon as she reminded me that both of our camping trips went to shit, I tossed the idea. She needed something to remind her how good we were together, not about the games we played. I pull out my phone as I climb into my car. I know the perfect place and it’s only a few hours away.

I knock on her door at 7:45.

“Always early,” she complains when she opens it. Her bag is in her hand. I take it and look her over. She’s wearing faded jeans and a fitted Marlins t-shirt. Her hair is wet and loose around her face.

She sees me eyeing her shirt and she shrugs. “I went to a game,” she says. I catch the defensiveness in her voice and I smirk.

“What?” she says, slapping me on the arm. “I like sport.”

“First of all, I’m the British one, not you. It’s sports. Second, you hate sports and sport and athletes. As I recall, you once told me that professional athletes were a waste of space.”

The corner of her mouth dips in as she frowns. “Noah likes baseball. I was being supportive.”

“Ah.”

I feel jealous, so I turn away and walk to the elevator with her bag while she locks up.

We ride downstairs in silence; standing so close the sides of our hands are touching. When the doors slide open, we don’t immediately step out.

“How long will the drive take?” she asks as she lowers herself into my car.

“We’re not driving,” I say.

She shakes her head, one eyebrow raised.

“You’ll see. Just sit back and relax. We’ll be there soon.”

She gives me a dirty look and turns on the radio. I hand her my iPod and she scrolls until she finds Coldplay.

“You’re crazy and erratic and mean, but I’ll never complain about your taste in music.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, setting down the iPod and staring at me. “Aren’t you supposed to be charming me this weekend?”

I grab her knee and squeeze. “That’s what I’m doing, Duchess. A compliment with an insult. Just the way you like it.”

She smacks my hand away, but she’s smiling.

The drive takes twenty minutes. When I pull up at the dock, Olivia looks confused. I get out of the car and grab her bags from the trunk.

“What is this?”

“A marina. It’s where I keep my boat.”

“Your boat?”

“Yes, love.”

She follows me to my slip. I climb on first, setting our bags in the small galley, then I go back for her.

“Peter Pan,” she says, not taking her eyes from the boat. “You named it Peter Pan.”

“Well, when I first bought it I named it Great Expectations, but Pip doesn’t land up with Estella in the end. So I changed it to Peter Pan. Didn’t want to jinx myself.”

Her nostrils flare. Then she looks at me with those big eyes of hers. “I’ve never been on a boat. A ship, but they’re so much … safer looking.”

I hold out my hand and help her on. She wobbles for a minute, and it looks like she is surfing. Then she runs to the cockpit and firmly plants herself on the seat, holding both sides of the padding on her chair. She’s such a badass I forget how little of life she’s tasted. I smile and start getting the boat ready to leave.

When we are bouncing forward, the helm of the boat cutting into the waves, she scoots closer to me on the bench. I lift my arm up and around her and she snuggles into me. I can’t even smile. I feel so intensely emotional, I steer the boat in the wrong direction for more than thirty minutes before I realize my mistake. At one point, when we are in the middle of nothing but water, I cut the engine and let her look.

“I feel so mortal,” she says. “I’ve collected so much armor over the years; a law degree, money, a hard heart. But, out here I have nothing and I feel naked.”

“Your heart isn’t so hard,” I say, watching the water. “You just like to pretend it is.”

I can see her looking at me out of the corner of my eye.

“You’re the only one who ever says that. Everyone else believes me.”

“I’m the only one who knows you.”

“How is it that you always let me go so easily then? Why don’t you know that I want you to fight for me?”

I sigh. Here it is. The truth.

“It took me a long time to figure out that’s what you were saying. And it seemed that every time one of us came back for the other, we weren’t ready. But, ten years later, here I am. Fighting. I’d like to think I’ve learned from my mistakes. I’d also like to think we’ve finally made it to the point where we are ready for each other.”

She doesn’t respond, but I know she’s thinking. Maybe this is finally our time. Maybe.

I start the engine.

We reach Tampa Bay around one o’clock. I park my boat at a marina and call a cab to take us to a car rental place. The only thing they have available is a minivan. Olivia cracks up when we climb in.

“What?” I say. “I kind of like it.”

“No,” she says firmly. “Don’t even say that. I’ll lose all respect for you.”

I grin and drive us to the hotel. We drop off our bags, and Olivia inspects the room while I call and double check on our dinner reservations.

“Let’s go find lunch,” I say. She pulls out her makeup bag, but I take it from her.

“Just be all around naked today, feelings and face.”

Her mouth twitches to smile, but she won’t let it. I see it in her eyes though. That’s plenty for me.

We walk to a small restaurant that sells only the fish they catch. It’s right on the water. Olivia’s nose is sunburned and I see a scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. She orders a margarita and swears it’s the best she’s ever had.

She’s chatty after two. We walk into the shops and she tells me about her life in Texas.

“Southern belles,” she assures me, “are the deadliest of all creatures on God’s earth. If they don’t like you, they won’t even look at you when you speak to them. And then they’ll give you a compliment with the most vicious insult hiding underneath.”

I laughed. “How did you deal with that?”

“Not well. I held back on the compliments and just openly insulted them.”

“I’m getting uncomfortable just thinking about it,” I admit. When Olivia unleashes an insult you feel like you’re being assaulted by word bullets. Very uncomfortable experience.

She screws up her face. “Cammie said I was the anti-Texan. She wanted me out of the south because she said I was ruining the integrity of it.”

“Oh, Cammie.”

She smiles so big. I know how much she values her best friend. I wonder what she’d say if she knew Cammie’s part in keeping me away. It doesn’t matter. I’ll never tell her anyway.

We’re looking at goofy Tampa Bay tshirts when she suddenly says, “I still have my Cats About Georgia sweatshirt.”

“Me too. Let’s get one of these. We can have an entire wardrobe of stolen getaway clothes.”

She chooses two tshirts with palm trees on them, in the most god-awful shade of teal I’ve ever seen. Hearts in Tampa Bay, they say.

I groan. “Look at those nice, fitted ones.” I point to a shirt I’d actually feel good about wearing in public, and she frowns.

“What’s the fun in that?” She goes to the bathroom and puts on her new purchase, then makes me do the same. Five minutes later, we are walking hand in hand down the boardwalk in matching ugly tshirts.

I love it.

After graduation Cammie moved back to Texas. It was fairly easy to find her – all I had to do was follow her brightly lit social media trail. I signed up for Facebook. She ignored my first five messages and then after my sixth attempt, sent one short message back.

WTF, Caleb.

She wants to be left alone.

BACK THE FUCK OFF!

Did you get your memory back?

Fuck it. I don’t care.

In other words, Cammie wasn’t going to help me. I considered flying to Texas, but I had no idea where Cammie lived. Her profile was set to private and she blocked me. I felt like a stalker. I tried the college next, but even with my connections in the administration office, Olivia hadn’t left them with a forwarding address. I went through my other options: I could hire a private detective … or I could leave her alone. That’s what she wanted, after all. She wouldn’t have left unless she was really done this time.

It hurt. More than the way she left the first time. The first time I had been angry. The anger made me feel self-righteous, which saw me through the first year after our breakup. The second year I felt numb.

The third year I questioned everything. This time felt different. It felt more real, like no matter what we did, we would never be together. Maybe after we had sex, she realized she wasn’t in love with me anymore. Maybe I was presumptuous in thinking she ever was. I was in love with her more, if that was even possible. I had to find her. One more time. Just one.

One fake Facebook profile later and I was part of Cammie’s extensive network of priends. Her entire cache of photos was a click away, and yet I sat staring at my computer screen for a good fifteen minutes before I was able to look through them. I was afraid to see Olivia’s life – how easy it was for her to move on without me. I searched anyway, through the endless dragging line of party pictures. Olivia had a special knack for avoiding the camera. I thought I caught her hair sometimes in the corner of a shot, or off in the blurry background, but I was still so drunk off her I was probably seeing her everywhere she wasn’t. For all I knew, Olivia was in Sri Lanka with the Peace Corps. Was the Peace Corps in Sri Lanka?

Fuck

Cammie was living in Grapevine. I would go there. Talk to her. Maybe she’d tell me where Olivia was. She couldn’t shut me down if I was standing in front of her. I rubbed a hand across my face. Who was I kidding? This was Cammie. She made blonde look like a color of combat. I waited a month, wrestling with the fact that Olivia probably wanted to be left alone, and my need to convince her that she didn’t.

Finally, I asked Steve for the time off. He was reluctant to give it to me since I’d taken a four-month leave of absence during the amnesia stint. When I told him it was about Olivia, he relented.

I drove. One thousand, two hundred and ninety miles of Coldplay, Keane and Nine Inch Nails. I stopped at diners along the way. Places where the waitresses’ names were Judy and Nancy, and the bouffant had never gone out of style. I liked it. Florida needed a character makeover. It was wearing on me: the pretentiousness, the heat, the absence of Olivia. Maybe it only felt like home if she was there. I had a feeling she would have liked Nancy and Judy too. If she was in Grapevine and I could convince her to come home with me, I’d bring her back this way. Have her eat fried chicken and macaroni and cheese on a tabletop that was stained with so many coffee cup rings, it was starting to look like a design. We’d eat until we were in a grease coma and then we’d find a cheap motel and argue about where to have sex because she didn’t trust the cleanliness of the sheets. I’d kiss her until she forgot about the sheets, and we’d be happy. Finally happy.

I crossed over the Texas state line and decided to hit up a motel before I went to see Cammie. I needed to shave … shower. Look mildly presentable. Then I thought, Fuck it. Cammie could see me exactly how I was, dirty and miserable. I drove the rest of the way to her townhouse and pulled into her driveway just as the sun was coming up. The townhouse was cream with brick facing. There were flower boxes on the windows, overflowing with lavender. It was too charming for Cammie. I considered waiting a few hours, getting breakfast before I knocked. Cammie was a notorious late riser. In the end, I figured it was best to catch her off guard. She might tell me more that way.

I parked up the block and walked to her front door. I was about to ring the bell when a car turned the corner and headed down the street toward where I was standing. I stopped to look at it and had the eerie feeling that it was headed for Cammie’s. I had two options … I could walk back up the driveway and risk passing the car as it turned in, or I could slip around the side of the townhouse and wait. I chose the second option. Cammie had an end unit, and I stood with my back pressed to the side of her house, looking at the neighbors’ fence. The neighbors had a Yorkie. I could see it sniffing around the fence.

Yorkies were yappy dogs. If it caught sight of me, it would no doubt bark until someone came outside to see what was wrong.

The car turned into the driveway, just as I guessed. I heard a door slam and the shuffling of feet as they walked up to the door. It’s probably Cammie, I thought. Coming back from some guy’s house where she spent the night. It wasn’t Cammie. I heard two voices. One of them was Olivia’s; the other belonged to a man. I almost launched myself around the side of the house and toward her, when the front door opened and I heard Cammie squeal.

“You guys so had sex!” she said.

Olivia’s laugh was forced. The bastard – whoever he was – was laughing along with Cammie.

“It’s none of your goddamn business,” I heard Olivia snap. “Now, get out of my way. I have to get ready for class.”

Class! I felt myself slumping down the wall. Of course. She was in law school. She’d met a guy. Already. She wasn’t even thinking about me, and here I was driving thousands of miles to get her back.

What a fucking joke.

Cammie must have retreated back into the house, because I heard Olivia turn around at the door and thank him.

“I’ll see you tonight,” she said. “Thanks for last night. I needed it.”

I heard the distinct sound of kissing before he walked back to his car and drove away. I stayed there for five more minutes, partially seething, partially hurting, partially feeling like a pathetic fucking ass, before I knocked on the door.

Cammie opened the door wearing nothing but a t-shirt with a picture of John Wayne on the front of it. She was holding a coffee mug, but she almost dropped it when she saw me. I lifted it from her limp hand and took a sip.

“Oh. My. God.”

She stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind her.

“I want to see her,” I said. “Now.”

“Are you crazy? Showing up here like this?”

“Go get her,” I said. I handed her coffee back, and she stared at me like I was asking her to give me an organ.

“No,” she said finally. “I’m not letting you do this to her again.”

“Do what?”

“Play games with her head,” she snapped. “She’s fine. She’s happy. She needs to be left alone.”

“She needs me, Cammie. She belongs with me.”

For a minute I thought she was going to slap me. She took a vicious sip of her coffee instead.

“Uh-uh.” She lifted one finger away from her cup and pointed it at me. “You’re a lying, cheating scumbag. She needs something better than you.”

I mentally backed up a step. That was true, mostly. But, I could be better for her. I could be what she needed, because I loved her.

“No one can love her like me,” I said. “Now, move aside, before I move you. Because I’m going in there-”

She considered this for a moment before stepping aside. “Fine,” she said.

I opened the door, took my first step into the foyer…

To my left was the kitchen and what looked like the living room, to my right was the stairs. I headed for the stairs. I was three up, when I heard Cammie call after me.

“She was pregnant, you know.”

I stopped.

“What?”

“After your little rendezvous under the moonlight.”

I looked back at her, my heart suddenly pounding wildly in my chest. My mind went to that night. I hadn’t used a condom. I hadn’t pulled out. I felt tingling all over my body. She was pregnant. Was … was … was …

“Was?”

Cammie pulled her lips tight and raised her eyebrows. What was she suggesting? I felt an ache start in my chest and spread outward. Why would she? How could she?

“It’s better that you leave her alone,” she said. “There isn’t just water under your bridge, there’s maggots and shit and dead bodies. Now, get the fuck out of my house before I call the police.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. I was done. Done. Forever. Never again.