“Lizzie?”
I closed my eyes and almost lost all of the air in my lungs. Why was I surprised? It had only been a matter of time before Kelton connected Emma and me. I glanced at Kelton. He cocked an eyebrow. Yeah, you figured me out. And as much as I longed to stay and catch up on old times, I wasn’t in any state of mind to answer questions. I flew out of the townhome as if I was the Flash. I kept running for four blocks before I stopped to catch my breath. Then tears poured out, turning into icicles along my cheeks. I wasn’t one to give up, but I wasn’t sure how many more hurdles I had to overcome to get back what was mine.
“Nothing is ever easy in life,” my dad had once told me.
“Strength comes from within. You’re strong,” my mom had said. “Always fight for what is right and what is yours.”
It was time to seek help. I went to grab my phone, and horror careened through me. My phone was in my backpack on Zach’s floor.
11
Kelton
I knew the moment I grabbed onto her. I was holding Lizzie. Very few women I’ve met over the years smelled of jasmine. Plus her hesitation gave her away when I called her Lizzie. Her red wig and green contacts were a decent disguise. Yet before I gave myself a high five, I wanted to see Lizzie, not Emma. I wanted her to come clean. I would’ve chased after her, but first I had to find out what the fuck was going on between her and Zach. Friend or no friend? I’d beat his head into the wall if he’d so much as laid hands on her.
I clenched my teeth as I walked into the library. Zach was just saying goodbye to someone on the phone. As soon as he hung up, I said, “What the hell, man? What did you do to the girl?” I stumbled over a backpack.
Zach relaxed against the couch as though he’d had a rough night. He was about to have a fucking rough day if he said he and Lizzie had tumbled in the sack.
“Hell if I know. We were talking about my loser of an old man and she lost it, choking like I said something that hit a nerve.”
I snagged the backpack. “So you didn’t screw her?” I fisted my free hand.
“Brew wanted me to help her since she started art class late. She’s smoking hot, but no. You know I’m not into redheads.”
Since Zach and I had been roommates at the BU dorms and now at this place, we knew each other’s taste in women. Zach only dated blondes.
“Is this hers?” I held up the backpack.
“I think so.” He kicked up his feet onto the coffee table. “Where have you been for three days?”
I set the pack at my feet then took off my suit jacket. I had an inkling Lizzie would return for it. “Family business, and I had that interview.” I wasn’t ready to tell him about Lizzie and her family and how we were connected. He had his own problems. His old man was a staunch gambler. The man frequented casinos and shady underground poker joints.
“Shit. And?” he asked.
“Won’t know for a couple of weeks.”
His phone chirped. He jumped up as if he’d just been caught jerking off. “I got to take this.” He scurried out of the room.
I eased down onto the couch, staring at the canvas bag, debating if I should sift through it. I didn’t have Lizzie’s number. So I couldn’t call her.
A Kenney Chesney song started playing from the bag, sounding muffled. Slipping my hand inside, I pulled out… a Taser? What the hell was Lizzie doing with a Taser? I didn’t like what was unraveling. Lizzie running around Boston in a red wig carrying a Taser. The depressing song kept playing. I dipped my hand back in and found her phone. Dillon’s name lit up the screen.
I probably shouldn’t have answered it, but I wanted to screw with him. “Hello.” With my free hand, I rummaged through the rest of the bag and found a wallet.
“Who the fuck is this?” Dillon’s voice was full of grit. “Where’s Lizzie?”
I didn’t need any more confirmation than that. “What’s your girl doing running around Boston in a red wig?” I opened the flap of the wallet. Staring back at me was a picture of Lizzie on her license.
“Maxwell? Is that you? If you so much as touched her—”
“What? Are you going to beat my head in?” I’d like to see the fucker try. I hadn’t been in a good brawl since Aaron Seever and I had gone a few rounds in high school.
“Where is she? Is she okay?” He’d lost the attitude.
“I don’t know. What’s she doing with a Taser? Did you give it to her?” Something smelled rotten. My gut was telling me Lizzie was in trouble, although somewhere in my subconscious I’d known that since she hadn’t wanted to show the real her, in an art class no less.
“Are you on my phone?” Lizzie asked, annoyance dripping from her tone.
I turned, not even having heard her walk in. “Trying to slink in unnoticed?”
“Is that her?” Dillon’s irritated voice returned, blaring through the speaker. “Let me talk to her.”