There was no point in arguing…but I couldn’t let it rest. “Jade’s mom was in an accident and is currently in the hospital. We came here for that.”
“Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit. I didn’t know this was a hospital? How ’bout you, Kryder?” Rhett’s eyes shifted to my right, answering the question I’d yet to ask—who was behind me. “Did you have any idea this was a place of healin’?”
Damn Rhett and his sarcastic intimidation. “Would you let me explain?”
“Explain what, darlin’…how ya managed to end up at the house of the man who’d taken advantage of your girl? Not sure how you’ll do that, but sure. Go head. That oughta be good.”
“I didn’t know it was him until I saw him with Jade at the hospital.”
“Hmmm…likely story. But anywho, that’s neither here nor there. I don’t give a flyin’ fuck when or how you figured it out. Because I don’t recall givin’ you instructions to take this guy out. Last I checked, you work for me. Or did ya get your panties in a wad over bein’ sent to the desk and decide to start your own business?”
I struggled against Kryder’s hold, but he didn’t release me until Rhett gave him the nod of approval. My shoulder ached and my bicep burned, but I refused to admit it and appear weak. Not to these men. “What made you think it was him?”
“Because I know what the hell I’m doin’.”
“So do I!” I roared, not caring that it was my boss taking the brunt of my rage.
“Oh, ya do? Well, you bypassed the stop sign ’cause you were lookin’ for a traffic light. You weren’t usin’ your fuckin’ brain. The very first place you always look is at the family. But if I’m bein’ honest…I didn’t know it was him. I only came here to check it out. And considerin’ I found you in his kitchen, I’d say it was a lucky guess.”
I stared at the piece of shit on the floor, snarling at the sound of his moans. I hated him for what he did. He’d hurt the woman I loved, and all I wanted to do was make him pay.
I turned to Rhett for guidance. “So now what do we do?”
19
Jade
I thanked the Uber driver and closed the door behind me, unable to get out of his car fast enough. He didn’t creep me out, and he wasn’t rude, but he smelled like peanut butter, and I found that odd. Not odd that he reminded me of a sandwich, but when I’d asked him what he’d eaten for dinner—for small talk—he went into a whole story about some family meal. A family meal that had nothing to do with peanut butter.
Then again, I hadn’t used Uber since I was in college. I’d forgotten all about how odd some of those drivers could be. I hadn’t gotten one often, but on occasion, I had no choice but to let the woman with the really deep voice drive me home. Those nights had been fun.
When I turned around and took in the sight of my old home, a mixture of dread and nostalgia wrapped me in a cocoon of conflicting emotions. I had so many memories, good and bad, but I couldn’t separate them while staring at the front door that held so many secrets. I’d loved and been loved behind those walls. I’d also suffered so much, both grief when I’d lost my dad and depression from his abuse. Now, after having been away for nearly a year, there were parts of me that almost didn’t recognize the house.
I’d sworn to myself I’d never come back here, but after the ICU nurse told me about some study where coma patients did better when they had someone talk or read to them regularly, I knew I had no choice but to return. When I was younger, my mom would lie in bed next to me and read, always from the same book with the binding so worn the title was no longer recognizable. I had to find it so I could sit beside her and read from those same yellowed pages. I didn’t think it would be possible when I couldn’t locate Cash’s car in the parking lot.
The Range Rover hadn’t been in the spot he’d parked it in, and while glancing around to see if he’d moved it, I’d spotted the distinguishable two-door, 1980 Mercedes Benz Roadster. Cash may not have been there, but he was, and that meant he wouldn’t be at the house. I had to take the opportunity given. I’d quickly sent Cash a text, letting him know where I would be in case he was still around the hospital, and downloaded the Uber app. If anything, I’d be gone for less than an hour, so I hadn’t thought anything of it.
Until I stood in front of the house that had haunted me for years.
As I slowly began to put one foot in front of the other, the grass melting beneath each step, I took in all the differences ranging from the most subtle to the obvious. My old bedroom window faced the front, and for the last five years I’d lived here, the curtains remained closed. But now, they were open. It was dark out, so I couldn’t see in, but I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what the room would look like in the daytime with the warmth of the sun’s rays flooding the space.
When I approached the corner of the house, I couldn’t help but stop and touch the bright-pink flowers, and run my fingertip along the soft petals. Those were new, and I wondered if my mom had planted them—she had given up gardening after my dad passed away. The hedges that ran along the sides and back yard were much bigger than I remembered, taller, and they offered far more privacy than they had before. But I stopped studying them the moment I remembered when they had been planted—just after my seventeenth birthday. Mom had refused to put up a fence, saying they were tacky, so he built a wall of shrubbery.
Once I made it to the back of the house, I took a deep breath and held it. The burn in my chest as air filled my lungs helped quiet my thundering heart.
“He’s not here,” I reminded myself quietly, needing the pep talk before heading inside. I’d sworn to myself I would never come back, but here I was, and no matter what happened, I’d never regret it. My mom needed me, and the only thing I wanted to do was read to her from our book. I closed my eyes and felt around on the brick wall, right at shoulder level, and as soon as the tips of my fingers hit the right spot in the mortar, I released a sigh of relief.
When I was younger, during my rebellious years, I’d sneak out late at night or come home well past curfew. In order to get inside without coming through the front—that had gotten me caught many times—I’d hidden a key in the wall next to the door that led to my bathroom. It was technically the pool bath, meant to be used as a quick entry inside from the lanai, but it was across the hall from my bedroom, so it was mine. And I’d taken advantage of its access many times.
I carefully slipped the broken piece of mortar out using the divots I’d created so long ago for my fingers to grip each side. As it gritted along the bricks, I held my breath, praying the key hadn’t been discovered or removed. But once I had it all the way out and snuck my fingertips into the narrow space, cold metal brushed my skin, and nothing had ever felt better.