Before Hadley (17 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Caynan

Except for a few scattered street lights, Hadley’s neighborhood sat shrouded in darkness. I looked right then left, ensuring no one saw me in the shadows. My gloved hand shook as I punched in the alarm code, luckily the covered entryway and darkness concealed me. The green light on the alarm pad flashed and the
click
of the front door unlocking filled the silence.

I turned the knob and slipped inside the foyer. Like the rest of the house, it was completely  dark. I hated being there. Being in that big, empty house without Hadley.

I pulled in a deep breath, knowing with much certainty that I was an asshole.

The girl who’d shown me love, acceptance, compassion, and given all of herself to me, was just like the rest of them. She had something I needed.

It was all so fucked up. On the drive over, I’d actually convinced myself Hadley would’ve understood what I had to do if she’d known the truth. If I’d told her about my dad and his associates. If I’d let her in on my plan to be done with it all.

It would’ve been the hugest risk I’d ever taken. I would’ve been putting it all on the line.

And for what?

To disappoint her? To ruin everything we’d shared? To implicate her in a crime?

And what if the risk didn’t pay off? Would she have turned her back on me and ratted me out to her dad?

I just needed to get it over and done with.

That’s why I stood there. All alone in her empty house, en route to her parents’ study. I was fairly confident it’s where they kept their safe, since hiding spots for safes were practically a staple in floor plans for homes like theirs. And if the pistol wasn’t in the safe, I assumed they had a gun cellar in the basement. And those were even easier to crack than safes.

I crept upstairs, my weight creaking the steps beneath me. My mind flashed back to carrying Hadley up the same stairs on the way to her bedroom. She’d squealed when I lifted her, having no idea how excited I was to see her completely naked for the first time. To touch her body in places I hadn’t been able to. To wrap her in my arms and do whatever I wanted to do, knowing she’d let me. To sleep with her wrapped in my arms. To wake up and see her face and kiss her lips.

I reached the second floor and crept down the hallway, my pulse pounding in my temples. I passed Hadley’s dark bedroom. Visions flooded my mind of the first time I woke up in there and found her curled up in the chair. Of last night. The way everything was just so damn perfect.

I passed her art studio. Visions of our time in there slammed into me, begging me to turn around and forget the pistol. The amazing drawing she’d done for me. The nervous look in her eyes once I saw it. Her striptease and desire to take our relationship further. The way she tasted. I shook my head, literally forcing away the thoughts.

I stopped in front of the one closed door in the hallway. I reached out, trying the knob. It turned in my gloved hand. I almost wished it hadn’t. I wanted to work for it. I didn’t want it to be so easy. So effortless to take something from someone I never wanted to hurt.

I stepped inside the room, not bothering to close the door behind me. I’d be quick. I pulled out my tiny flashlight and assessed my surroundings. Satin curtains hung to the floor, blocking the windows and darkening the already dark room. The standard mahogany desk, matching armoire, and decorative sofa were placed precisely around the room.

I walked behind the desk. Hadley’s picture sat front and center. Her smiling face a glaring reminder of everything I’d be losing if I got caught. I turned to the painting on the wall behind the desk and slipped my fingers under the frame, peering with the flashlight underneath, only to find a bare wall.

My eyes flashed to the armoire and I made my way over, wondering if that’s where I’d find the safe hidden. I’d researched the 1847 Colt Walker pistol I needed to retrieve. Hadley’s mother had obtained it at an auction for over a million dollars. I wished it hadn’t been publicized. I wished no one knew who had it. Then I wouldn’t have been there. I wouldn’t have had to take something from someone whose daughter cared about me. Trusted me.

But I did what I always did. I rationalized it.

I assured myself Hadley’s mother didn’t need the pistol. It wasn’t like she planned to fire it. It was a status symbol to people like her. Something to say she owned. Something to keep locked away in her safe.

Guilt crept into every crevice of my body, overwhelming me with its force. I was delusional. Her mother wasn’t about status. Sure she was rich. But she also helped others. Others in need. 

Unfortunately, guilt wasn’t enough to stop me. Because in the end, I did what I had to do—especially if I planned to use it as leverage to be free from my father once and for all. I tugged on the armoire’s handle and opened it. The safe sat right inside, like it had been waiting for me to arrive.

I stuck my ear buds in my ears, held my phone to the door of the safe, and spun the knob.
Click.
Click.
Click-click
. That’s all I needed to hear.

Hadley

I’d plastered on a smile, mingled with the benefactors, and stayed by my mother’s side the entire night. Everything she needed me to do. Now my work was done.

My leg bounced anxiously as my mother’s driver drove me home. I needed to change out of my dress and get in touch with Caynan. I’d waited to call since I really wanted to surprise him. He hadn’t texted me all night. I wondered if he hadn’t wanted to bother me during the fundraiser or his game ran long and he went out celebrating with the guys. Either way, it played perfectly into my plan to surprise him.

Once I was minutes away from my house, I tried his cell. My call was sent to voicemail. I left him a quick message to let him know I was almost home and wanted to see him. There was no way I wasn’t going to see him.

Once the car pulled into my driveway, I gathered my shoes and clutch and hopped out, taking two steps at a time. I punched in the code, but the green light didn’t shine.
Shit
. My mother forgot to set it. I grabbed the front door knob and stepped into the foyer. I flipped on the light on the table beside the door, dropping my shoes and clutch down on it. Since Caynan wasn’t answering his phone, my thumbs went to work, typing a quick text.

A sound from the second floor stilled my thumbs. Hell, it stilled my entire body. My eyes shot to the top of the stairs. I waited, silencing my breathing, my eyes locked on the second floor landing. I didn’t see any shadows. I didn’t hear any other sounds. Had I left my window open? Had something fallen? Had it just been my imagination?

I crept toward the stairs, taking one at a time, my phone clutched tightly in my hand. But seriously? The house belonged to a cop. No one in their right mind would be stupid enough to break in.

I reached the platform at the top of the second floor and moved slowly to the decorative bench there. I raised the top of the bench, hoping it didn’t squeak when I opened it. I reached inside, digging under the neatly-folded throw blankets. My hand found what I sought. Something cold and metal. And all I needed to feel safe. A .22 semi-automatic handgun. The first gun my father ever let me shoot at the shooting range.

Most teenage girls would’ve felt uncomfortable handling a gun, but my dad made sure it was second nature to me. Unfortunately, being in our big house all alone with a potential intruder made it a lot less second nature.

I replaced the bench’s cover and waited. If someone
was
in my house, there was only one way down. I listened, focusing for a long time on nothing but silence.

As the silent minutes stretched on, I felt ridiculous standing there with a gun. In a formal dress. In my own home. I lifted my phone and sent Caynan the text. As soon as I hit send, a noise traveled from the other end of the hall.

My stomach dropped.
Fuuuuuuck
.

I don’t know what gave me the nerve, maybe adrenaline, maybe foolishness, but I stepped toward the noise. This was my house and someone had the nerve to enter it. Okay, even that seemed like a lame justification. But I trekked on. Gun in hand. Heart beating out of my chest. My knees wobbled as I inched down the hallway, passing my dark bedroom. I released a small breath as I continued past my art studio. I wished Caynan were there with me. He would’ve been the brave one, or the one to talk me out of doing one of the craziest things I’d ever done.

I could see the open door to my parents’ study up ahead. My heart sputtered. They never left it open.
Holy shit.
I’d lost my freaking mind. 

I inched slowly along the wall, my knees knocking wildly. A light flickered into the hallway.

Holy shit. This is real. This is fucking real.

I extended the gun in front of me, my hands trembling fiercely and my heart pounding in my ears. I turned into the doorway with my gun extended into the room.

My eyes collided with the brown eyes I dreamt about at night. The eyes that smoldered when his body covered mine. The eyes of the guy I trusted. The guy who stood with my mother’s pistol in one hand and his cell phone in the other. The guy who was ripping my heart out with his bare hands.

Caynan didn’t move as everything rushed at me at once. The realization. The shock. The betrayal. It had been him. He’d been evading the police. He’d been lurking in the darkness. He’d been taking advantage of the people in my neighborhood. He’d been taking advantage of
me
.

The notion sent my anger to the brink and my sanity to pieces.

I released the gun’s safety. The
click
echoed throughout the room. Caynan’s eyes expanded.

“Hadley.” He didn’t say it in warning, more like fear.

“Don’t,” I ground out through gritted teeth. “Don’t say anything.”

He expelled a deep breath. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I said ‘
don’t
!’”

I kept the gun aimed in my right hand and pressed my number one contact on my phone in my left. I lifted the phone to my ear, my eyes locked on Caynan, whose shoulders dropped in defeat. “The thief’s in our house,” I said into the phone.

Caynan closed his eyes, as if in pain. As if
he
were in pain. The freaking irony.

“I’m okay. He won’t hurt me,” I assured my father, who demanded I get out of the house immediately.

“Of course I won’t hurt you,” Caynan interjected, though his voice was hushed and detached.

I clicked off my phone, cutting off my father’s pleas.

“You don’t need that gun. I’m not going anywhere.”

I stared across the room at the liar. The fake. The
thief
. “I don’t believe you.” I nodded toward the pistol in his hand. “Was that worth it?”

He glanced to the pistol—the one my mother had recently bought for my father. The one he was going to display at the local museum to help her bring in big benefactors for her next fundraiser—an auction to raise money for a new children’s wing at the hospital. Caynan tucked the pistol back into the safe. “Nope.”

Sirens in the distance sent both our eyes shooting toward the window. “I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

“Don’t,” he demanded. “None of this is your fault.”

The sirens outside grew louder, though they couldn’t compete with the ringing in my ears.

“I’m good at what I do,” he continued. “You couldn’t have known.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head. “I thought it was real.” I held back the tears fighting to break loose. I’d be damned if I let him see how badly he’d hurt me. Not in this lifetime. When I opened my eyes, Caynan stared at me, unmoving, silent.

A moment passed. A long torturous moment as we stared across the huge divide that now existed between us.

I’d never known him. Not even a little bit.

The front door downstairs slammed open and a brigade of heavy footsteps dispersed, some checking the main floor while the others plodded upstairs. Within seconds, police officers appeared in the open doorway, guns aimed at Caynan.

My father immediately rushed to me, lowering my gun and wrapping me in an embrace. Over his shoulder, I watched the men surround Caynan, shoving him down on the desk while yanking his arms behind his back, cuffing him roughly.

I turned away as my father continued to hold me in his arms while the police read Caynan his Rights, moving him quickly out of the study and out of my life forever.

PART TWO

THREE YEARS LATER

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The door to my cell rattled open, echoing through cell block C. Guys from the surrounding cells stepped out of theirs, all freshly groomed in their matching tan shirts and pants, heading to the visitation room for their weekly visits. They passed by my cell, none bothering to look inside.

I wondered if visiting with their loved ones gave them a sense of normalcy. A taste of the outside. A reminder they weren’t actually animals herded from place to place, ordered to eat, sleep, and shut up. They were actual human beings. Something I hadn’t felt like in a very long time. Unlike them, I’d never had a visitor. It wasn’t like I had any family members or friends who missed me. I’d denied my baseball coach’s request to visit. He’d taken a chance on me and I’d lied to him. Lied to him and used him to get what I wanted, just like I’d done to everyone else I’d encountered. I didn’t need a reminder. I was in prison. I was reminded every damn day.

After copping a plea which earned me a lighter sentence and threw my father under the bus, I’d done my time alongside thieves and businessmen who’d committed fraud. It wasn’t like I got thrown in with serial killers and gangbangers. But being surrounded by liars and cheats every second of every day did little for my sanity. So for three years, I’d mostly kept to myself.

It had been a long three years. A reflective three years, but a fucking lonely three years.

Once everyone disappeared for visitation, I lay on my bed and absorbed the silence. I’d never realized how much I craved the peace and quiet until I didn’t have it anymore. With a pencil in hand, I began my final letter. The last one I’d send before I was released. For someone who had to conceal the truth for so long, it was shocking how good I’d become at spilling my guts. The letters gave me an outlet.

For my guilt.

For my sadness.

For my loneliness.

Besides honing my writing skills, I’d earned my GED while on the inside. But that wasn’t good enough. I wouldn’t let my incarceration stop me from earning a college degree, so through a privately-funded night class program, and additional online distance learning courses, I was halfway through my Bachelor’s degree. Days were definitely long inside. Studying gave me a purpose. Writing brought me some peace. And lifting in the gym kept me in shape so on the off chance I ever got to play baseball again, I’d be ready.

* * *

“So, our time together has come to an end,” Marie said, her thick-rimmed glasses sitting low on her nose.

I nodded from my slouched position in the chair across from her, my eyes taking in her office for the last time. I could still remember the first day I walked in there. Nothing had changed. It still had the same sterile smell. The same bare walls. The same empty desk.

An unfortunate condition of my plea bargain had been weekly counseling sessions. And though I agreed to go, I never agreed to talk. So for the first year and a half, I sat there and said nothing. I just listened to her drone on about releasing myself of guilt and acknowledging my father’s emotional abuse. She said what he’d done to me had a medical term: psychological maltreatment. She spent each session explaining how his manipulation had inhibited my psychological growth, causing my grasp on right and wrong to become distorted. I didn’t need a shrink to tell me that. I lived it.

A year and a half into listening to her psycho-babble, I couldn’t take it anymore. I unloaded on her. And when I say unloaded, I unloaded everything I’d been keeping inside. And not just for the year and a half…for as long as I could remember.

I talked about my mom and her words that haunted me. I talked about my dad and my need to hold us together. And I talked about Hadley and the regrets I had not being honest with her. Once I got started, I couldn’t stop. I talked about the shit I’d done. The shit I’d seen. My regret. My pain. My fear for the future.

Marie didn’t try to fix my problems. She listened and encouraged me to come up with my own solutions. She gave me ways to ease my conscience and to live a normal life once I was released.

It felt strange having encouragement from an adult who wanted nothing but to help me. I told her about the letters. After praising me for taking the initiative, she explained it was my subconscious trying to retrieve a piece of myself—at least who I presumed my true self to be. I’d worn a mask for so long I didn’t really know
who
I was.

Marie assured me, once it came time for me to walk out the front gates of the prison, I’d have the tools necessary to live a normal life. I just wished I was as sure as she was.

“Wow,” she marveled. “When we first met, I never thought you’d even speak. Now look at you. Speaking and almost smiling.”

Almost
smiling.

I learned early on that no one smiled in prison. There was nothing to smile about. You’d lost everything. And whatever brought you there in the first place—and the guilt that carried with it—ate away at you, prohibiting you from any form of happiness. But meeting with Marie had become a safe haven for me. A place to almost feel normal again. And Marie had grown on me. She truly wanted the best for me. “Yeah, well time heals all wounds. Right, Doc?”

She smiled. “I think I might’ve heard that once before.”

“Once?” I grunted. “Try every damn time I’ve been in here.”

She laughed. “So, what now for you?”

I shrugged. “Get a job. Sign up for classes.”

“Make amends?” she asked.

My eyes shot to the sole window in her office. The bars did nothing to block the sunlight that gleamed outside. Sunlight on my face. That was something else I didn’t realize I’d miss. But having limited time outside made me appreciate every second I was out there even more. The warmth on my skin. The positive energy it added to a day. It was crazy how I missed the most basic things. Rain. Traffic. Eating when I wanted to. But soon, I’d be able to appreciate everything—no matter how big or small—so much more than I’d done before.

And as much as I longed for my freedom, it also scared me. What would I do with so much independence? From prison. From my dad. From the lies. I had no idea how to just be me. What a crazy thing for a twenty-one-year-old guy to admit. But it was the truth. I’d never actually done “me” before. And that scared the shit out of me.

“Do you plan on seeing your dad?”

I shook my head. The thought had never even crossed my mind. “Nope.”

She nodded. “It’s probably for the best. You’ll do it when you’re ready.”

I balked as I dragged my hands over my prison-mandated shaved head, knowing I’d never be ready to face him. 

“Do you know where you’re going to live?” She pushed her glasses up her nose.

“I’ll figure something out.”

“Are you still planning to do what we talked about?”

I nodded. It’s all I’d thought about, night and day, for three years. 

She assessed my face, her unspoken thoughts flashing behind her glasses. I wondered what insight she’d impart on me as our final session came to a close. “Will you promise me something?”

“What’s that?”

“Be patient. Some things are easier said than done.”

I shrugged. “I’ve lost everything, Doc. I’ve got nothing left to lose.”

“True. But I just don’t want you to set your expectations too high.”

“No worries. I’m a patient man. And I’ve got all the time in the world.” And for the first time since being there, I
almost
smiled.

Hadley

“Why don’t you come up here, babe?”

Books lay spread out before me on the floor of my room as I chewed on a piece of licorice. I glanced to my bed where Jake lay, staring down at me. Those blue eyes of his had lured me in. So deep in their depths yet so different from the ebony ones that haunted my dreams. “I’m studying.”

“Yeah. I can see that. But I’m done and want you up here with me.” He patted his hand down beside him on my fuchsia comforter.

I smirked. “That’s where you always want me.”

He laughed. “Have you looked in a mirror? You’re hot.”

I laughed, fully aware that Jake dished out compliments like waitresses served meals. We’d been dating for six months, taking a break over the summer before returning for senior year a month before.

Jake crawled off the bed and onto the floor, crouching beside me, his shaggy blond hair falling over his forehead. “Fine. If you’re gonna be studying all day, I’m gonna go meet up with the guys. Do you mind?”

I shook my head. “No. Go have fun. I just really need to ace this test.” His lips landed on my shoulder trailing a soft path up my neck where he nuzzled in, knowing it would make me giggle. And it did. “Get out of here before I don’t let you go.”

Laughter rumbled in his chest. “Don’t toy with me like that, tease.”

I grinned as he stood up, towering over me like the rugged hockey player he was. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

I nodded as he turned and walked out of my room.

All the guys I’d dated in college had been safe. They’d been guys I knew wouldn’t hide things from me. Deceive me. Take advantage of me. I’d created walls with barbed-wire on top to keep those types out. Jake had been my biggest risk. He was good looking and a hell of a hockey player. I knew I’d never completely trust him, not with all the puck bunnies looming. But he’d pursued me relentlessly. On his ninth attempt, I finally agreed to go out with him—just to get him off my back. But he turned out to be fun and there’d been a spark—something that had been missing with every other guy I dated.

My phone buzzed beside me on the floor. I grabbed it, checking the screen before hitting the speaker. “Hey.”

“Hey, back at ya,” Cass’s voice greeted me from sunny California. We’d spent all summer together on the Georgia shore, renting a cute little beach house far from the town we’d grown up in. Neither of us wanted to return to the drama there. But in all honesty, being with her for three straight months made returning to school difficult. “I miss you already.”

“I miss you, too.”

“So where’s mister hockey stud?”

“I needed to study. He took off.”

Her sigh carried through the phone. “It wouldn’t kill you to let him in. He clearly likes you. Give him a chance.”

“Who said I wasn’t?”

She scoffed. “I know you, remember?”

“We’ve been together six months,” I reminded her, though I felt like I was reminding myself.

“Do you want an award because he’s lasted longer than the rest? And where was he this summer? Oh, yeah, that’s right. Not with you.”

This time
I
scoffed. “Come on. Cut me some slack.”

“I’ve been cutting you slack. And now I just want you to have a great senior year.”

She’d given me the same speech every year since leaving for college. This time I wanted it to stick. I
needed
it to. And maybe it would. It’s not like I’d become a nun since high school. I’d had fun. Did the whole reckless-college-girl-thing other girls did. Went to parties and bars. Hooked up with guys. I just guarded my heart. A lot of people lived that way. And some day it would serve me well. 

* * *

Jake rounded the hood of his car and opened my door. He took my hand and helped me onto the sidewalk, stealing a quick kiss before leading me to the cobblestone building where I lived. Unlike other seniors who ventured to off-campus housing, I lived on campus. The suite-style apartments were nice and primarily occupied by upperclassmen, so parties were kept to a minimum. Not that I minded a good party. It just kind of lost its charm after too many nights praying to the porcelain gods.

Once we reached the top step, Jake spun me toward him, wrapping his arms around me so I had no choice but to stare up into his blue eyes. “You sure you don’t want me to come in? I’ll make it worth your while.”

I wished more than anything that his good looks and amazing body had the power to tempt me. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine, soft and gentle. The exact opposite of how he kissed me when we were naked. He pulled out of the kiss with a smirk, the way good-looking guys always did—like they knew something you didn’t. “Once you ace this test Monday, I get you all to myself for as long as I want you.”

I grinned. “That was the deal.”

“Oh, babe. I’ve been holding onto that for the past week.”

I laughed, placing my hands on his chest. “I promise. You’ll have my complete and undivided attention.”

His eyes searched my face. “Oh, the things I plan to do to you.”

I pushed him back, knowing he’d never leave if I didn’t give him a push. “Go. Leave me to the ever-exciting world of philosophy.”

“See you tomorrow?”

“If you’re lucky, and you let me go in so I can study.”

He lifted his palms in surrender. “All right, all right. I’m going.” He made his way down the front steps. I watched until he’d slipped into his car and disappeared at the end of the road.