Here, hopefully. I didn’t want to go back to Kentucky. There was nothing waiting for me there, nothing to go back to.
If I was lucky, I could get a job as a mechanic out here. That might pay halfway decent, and since I had a car of my own, and a place, my cost of living wouldn’t have to be sky-high. I knew how to live on a small budget, despite how damn expensive it was to live here.
A noise caught my attention and I looked up. The sight of Ridley moving across the gym, just beyond the sauna doors, had my lip curling. Something about him just rubbed me the wrong way. I started to stand up and the room spun. Slapping a hand against the heated wood, I steadied myself. How long had I been in there?
No telling. I’d lost track of time.
I opened the door and stepped out, taking my time with it as Ridley’s gaze swung toward me. I gave him a level look as I moved over to the nearby refrigerator. He said nothing. Neither did I. I grabbed a bottle of water and downed it. I was still thirsty, and my head was starting to pound. The lightheaded feeling hadn’t gone away either, but I’d gone hungry more than once in my life. I knew how to handle being dizzy. I’d just spent too much time in the dry heat, so as long as I moved slow, I’d be fine.
I was nearly to the door when Ridley finally spoke, “Your parole officer has been talking to everybody. Guess she doesn’t like how your meetings are going if she’s checking up on you. How much longer until she sends your hillbilly ass back to Kentucky, Bobby-boy?”
In response, I flipped him off over my shoulder. Not exactly mature, I knew, but it was better than what I really wanted to do.
He chuckled. “I guess today didn’t go that well for you, did it? Not surprising though. You may’ve had Jake fooled, but I knew the rest of us would start to see through you soon enough.”
Ignoring him, I moved through the door. I needed to get some food in my belly, and I needed to think. One thing was certain. The exertion and the overlong stint in the sauna had done precisely what I’d wanted. The temper had drained out of me.
Yeah, Carly had kept her letters from me and I was still pissed about that, but maybe what I needed to do was clear out. Get some space.
***
The knock at my door came late.
I couldn’t say I was surprised by it. Normally, most of us gathered in the estate’s kitchen to eat dinner, but that time had come and gone, and I hadn’t left my little house. My suitcases were spread out across my room. The clothes I’d paid for with my own money were packed.
The rest of them – and that was the majority – were neatly folded or left hanging in the closet.
The knock came a second time, and I ignored it a second time. But after the third knock, I moved through the maze of suitcases and boxes I’d accumulated over the past few months, and made my way to the living room.
I yanked the door open just as Ryan started to knock a fourth time. “What?”
“You know,” he said, speaking with deliberate slowness. “When you’re home, it’s considered polite to answer the door.”
“I’m not polite. Deal with it.” I tried to shut the door, but Ryan slammed a hand against it.
I sighed and stepped aside. I didn’t see the point in fighting with him. It would save me the trouble of hunting him down tomorrow. I’d rather tell him than Carly anyway. He looked surprised at my easy capitulation, his expression wary as he came inside.
“She had no right telling you like that.”
I turned away. “Like what?”
“Julia called me after you left and told me what she’d done. It wasn’t from me. She called a detective she knew on the force, was able to find out that Carly had been getting letters too. Got a copy. She had no right dropping it on you like that.”
There was a funny slapping sound, and saw that he’d set a file folder down on a nearby table. I stared at it, felt a funny little twist in my gut.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was in there, but it didn’t matter. Grabbing the envelope from my desk, I held it out. “Here.”
He barely spared the envelope a look. “Look, Bobby. You didn’t want...” His voice trailed off as he suddenly realized he was holding something important. “What the fuck is this?”
“You’re a smart man, Ry. If you put your brain to it, I think you can figure out what’s going on in here,” I said. I kicked one of the boxes I’d torn apart out of the way and grabbed another one. I figured four boxes – no, make that six – boxes should hold most of the books I’d bought. I just hoped Jake’s library would have enough room for them.
“Why are you packing?” he asked, his voice rough.
“If you’d read the letter I gave you, you’d already have that answer.”
I heard a ripping sound as I picked up a stack of books. It was silent behind me for a minute, and then I heard another ripping sound.
“No.”
I didn’t look up. How did I end up with two copies of City of Ghosts? I tossed both inside.
“Did you hear what I said, hard-ass? I said no!”
I looked back at Ryan. The minute I did, he threw a wadded-up ball of paper at me. I batted it aside before it could smack me in the face. “I’m pretty sure it’s still a free country, hard-ass.”
His lip curled. “Free country, sure. But you’re a contract employee. You’re required to give a thirty-day notice, pretty boy. Remember that paperwork we went over?”
Shit. Now that he mentioned it, I did remember. “You don’t need me around here for another thirty fucking days,” I said.
“You signed the contract.” He closed the distance and jabbed me in the chest, hard. “You’ll work the damn thirty fucking days.”
Then, while I was trying to figure out what else to say, he bent and grabbed the paper from the floor, then slammed it against my chest. “And guess what, Bobby. I’m not going to do your dirty work. You want to break Carly’s heart like this? Then you tell her.”
“It’s not gonna break her damn heart. She hardly even talks to me anymore.” The words came out far more sulky than I liked. I sounded more like some kid mooning over his first crush than an adult trying to be practical.
“Yeah? I noticed. Funny, though. She sure as hell still stares at you. The same way you stare at her when you don’t think she’s looking.”
I shot him a look, but he was already on his way out the door.
***
Two days later, I still hadn’t figured out how to tell Carly.
Ryan left the file of letters in my house, and I’d combed through them over and over while telling myself, over and over, that leaving was the best thing to do.
On the third day, Carly broke the wide circle we usually gave each other and stopped in the middle of the hall.
“Okay,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “That’s it. I’m done. This stops.”
I jammed my hands in my pockets and went with my usual go-to response. “What...you’re actually going to talk to me now?”
“I don’t know.” She smiled sweetly at me. “Are you going to stop pretending that I’m a leper?”
“I never–”
“Oh, kiss my ass, Cantrell,” she snapped. “I was there for your whole six month speech and I know you’re telling yourself that you’re honoring Jake’s wishes, but you’re just being a fucking bastard. So when you’re finally ready to man up and admit what you want, let me know.”
As I tried to pick my jaw up off the ground, she shifted her attention to a shocked-looking Ryan.
“You. Talk.”
That tone might have worked on Ridley or Cameo. Probably even Ace. But it didn’t work on Ryan. When she slid her narrowed eyes my way, I just jerked a shoulder in a shrug and looked away.
“What’s the matter?” She fluttered her lashes at me. “Are you two breaking up?”
I half-choked on my water. “What?”