Frayed (Connections #4)

Frayed (Connections #4) Page 23

• • •

The sun is just beginning to set once I decide to pack up and head out, so it’s not too blinding. Blondie’s is just a few feet away. My feet kick up little bits of sand as I walk down the familiar beach with my board tucked under my arm and think what a big day tomorrow is for me. November first marks the day the announcement of both takeovers will be made, but more important, shares of Plan B will be available to the public. It’s a huge financial risk as well as an excellent opportunity for me.

“Hey, man,” I greet Noel.

He beams. “Hey, Benny boy. How was it out there?”

“Fucking amazing. I haven’t spent the whole day out on her in months.”

He smiles, baring his yellowing teeth and pride at the same time.

“I didn’t expect to still see you in here this late. Faith isn’t going to be happy if you miss dinner.” I wink at him.

“Fuck, what time is it?” he says, looking at his watch.

I shrug as I lean my board against the wall. “The sun’s just about down, so it must be close to your dinnertime.”

“Fuck. Come home with me. Have dinner with us. Then Faith can’t be pissed off at me for being late,” he begs.

“Can’t tonight. Sorry, you’re on your own.”

“Damn, boy, way to make a grown man beg.”

I just shake my head.

He opens the avocado green fridge and pulls out two cold ones. He tosses me one and I catch it but shake my head no and place the can on the counter.

“Don’t be a f**king pansy ass.” But Noel says it with a grin.

“I’ll give you pansy ass,” I tell him as I grab a long board hanging on the wall. I skateboarded all the time as a kid, so I have no doubt my agility will prevail. I give this bad boy a spin around the shop worth my time. I move fast. Of course the adrenaline coursing through my body certainly helps. When I stop, I flip the end and push it his way. “Your turn.”

His hands go up surrender-style, as he shakes his head no, then strides over to lock the front door.

“Come on,” I coax. “Who’s being the pansy ass now? I thought the coolest thing about long boards is that you could even sell them to dudes’ grandmas.”

We both laugh again but this time at the sales spiel he gives the kids in his shop who come to work for him. I know it well. I spent so many hours here as a teenager. As he closes the place down, I pull my shirt from my bag and slide into it, tugging my jeans over my board shorts before slipping into my boots, not bothering to tie them. “Thanks for letting me leave my shit here. I still haven’t had a rack put on my new car yet.”

“So you keep saying. And I’ll keep saying anytime, you know that. And, Ben, Faith would really love to see you.”

I nod. “I’ll call you next week. I might just come and bring a guest.”

“Oh yeah? You decided to chase some lucky girl?” he asks.

“You know what, Noel, I did.”

He slaps his hand on my shoulder. “That’s the way, boy.”

We both walk out the back door together and as he hops in his truck he yells, “Don’t forget to call me.”

I wave good-bye. “I won’t.”

• • •

The shiny black paint of my BMW touring bike is gleaming off the reflection of the streetlights. Its low silhouette and sleek shape are all that remain in the parking lot at this time of night. I can’t stifle my smile when I see her green helmet with sparkles enameled in it strapped on its back. As I hop on I catch sight of where her car was parked earlier and remember what it felt like to touch her again, but for some reason it felt different this time—even better if that’s possible. The next few hours can’t fly by fast enough. I pull my phone from my pocket and scroll through my short list of contacts until I find her name—then I send her a quick text.

I’ll pick you up. I don’t want you driving back here tonight so late.

I’m more than capable of driving in the dark and I didn’t invite you over.

I’ll be there at eleven.

I said I didn’t invite you over.

I said I’d be there at eleven.

Fine. But don’t come in.

I stare at my screen and shake my head. I’ll be patient and wait until she’s ready to tell her family, but not for too long. Of course I understand her hesitation. I’m done with secrets and hiding things. I’ve had enough of that shit to last a lifetime.

With the handlebars beneath my palms, I grip tight as the wind whips all around me and the dark sky meets the horizon before me. My intent when I took today off from work was that it would be a day of reflection. It’s Halloween, which officially marks one year to the day that my downward spiral into oblivion began, which eventually resulted in me hitting rock bottom—hard. I was lost for many long months, but I’ve since found myself . . . becoming a better person.

Aside from walking around constantly feeling I’d been stabbed in the heart and punched in the gut at the same time, I was down and out with no one to turn to. My relationship with my sister had suffered from my blatant disregard of anyone else’s feelings but my own. My friendship with Caleb had been strained from my deceitfulness, and even though we seemed to be back on track, he wasn’t around. He was away training to become an FBI agent. And honestly, aside from Dahl I had no one left in my life. That’s when I took off for Australia.

I spent four months there and loved every minute of it. When I returned to California I decided to live in LA in hopes of getting my old job back. But that too didn’t go as planned. Not only did I live in a shithole motel for way too long, but I ended up as the wedding columnist for my old editor. I wanted my investigative journalist job back, but since I wouldn’t play ball and divulge my source for the piece on the drug cartel or turn over the article I had written more than three years ago but never published, she pigeonholed me into a job she knew I’d hate. But I couldn’t give her what she wanted. First of all, I no longer had any of that shit. I had given it all to Caleb. And second, my journalistic code of honor prevented me from divulging my sources. Taking the job she offered was just another poor choice I made in a long list of poor choices.

But I had already been down so many twisted roads I couldn’t see straight anymore. Pinpointing a single catalyst is hard, but if I had to choose one I would say it was the investigation. And although the investigation might be why I had to leave my old life, it’s not why I lost myself. But for the longest time I used it as the reason. Why wouldn’t I?

The whole thing was so f**ked up. It started out as a simple task—publish an article on drug trafficking. Easy enough, I thought . . . just research it, write it, gain critical attention, rise to the top—and I’d be the next Anderson Cooper. Well, that’s not how it went down. The story I was investigating was not only way bigger than I ever could have imagined, but also much more dangerous. Dangerous enough that my subject wanted to kill me and threatened to kill my girl if I didn’t stop. But even when I did stop, that wasn’t enough—they were coming after me. So I faked my own death and disappeared for what I thought would be the rest of my life.

I defected to New York City and lived there for three years as Alex Coven. The first two years were rough, but by the third year I started to make a life for myself. I was hanging out with a girl I liked, started swimming and running again, stopped the excessive drinking, and even made a few friends. But that life seemed small and worthless the day the FBI knocked on my door and told me I could go back home to California. I didn’t even have to think about it. All I knew was I had a second chance to get my old life back and I wanted it . . . all of it, including my girl, Dahlia London.

But three years was a long time to be gone, and things change, people change. Dahl wasn’t the same girl I left behind. She was harder, maybe stronger, maybe more broken . . . I don’t know exactly, but I do know she wasn’t in love with me anymore. I tried to get her back, but it didn’t take long to figure out I couldn’t. I stopped my worthless efforts after my mother died. It was never going to happen anyway, especially after Dahl found out I had cheated on her in college and wouldn’t you know it—it was with the sister of the guy she now loved.

Then as if that wasn’t enough, my beloved mother suffered a stroke and passed away. After that I didn’t give a f**k about anything anymore. I just wanted to forget everything . . . who I was, what I’d done, what had happened to me. Forget it all. And I can wholeheartedly say that no longer caring about anything was when I lost myself. I hit rock bottom because I didn’t give a shit about anyone, not even myself.

My final wrong step came the day I watched Dahl’s attacker and my shooter, Josh Hart, being found guilty of a pony charge. I couldn’t take it anymore and as I was drowning myself in a bottle of Jack, my ex-girlfriend from New York City called me. Kimberly was looking for company and since I was too, I went to her. She was drunk, I was drunk, and I f**ked her as if she were someone else. Of course Kimberly threw my ass out. I left her apartment full of guilt and not paying the least bit of attention to how much alcohol I had consumed.

That night I was pulled over and arrested for driving while intoxicated and had no one to call—Caleb was MIA, Serena was in Hawaii with Trent, and my only friends, Beck and Ruby, were out of town. That left me with only Dahl. And when I called her I was shocked that she came and bailed me out. My life changed after that. Maybe it was the arrest that scared the shit out of me, maybe it was closure—I had felt nothing but friendship toward Dahl when she drove me home—or maybe it was knowing I owed my mother more than the life I was leading.

But I turned things around after that day. I quit the job I hated, I let go of the loose ends to the investigation that I hadn’t been able to put to rest, and I reconciled with my sister. I moved back to the place I loved—Laguna. And in the process of moving back into my mother’s house, my sister and I discovered that my mother had been awarded a ten-million-dollar settlement for my father’s wrongful death and had willed it to us. With that money I knew what I wanted to do with my life—help magazines suffering rejuvenate themselves.

I blink away the memories and look up. The stars above me are bright, the night is clear, and the air is warm, but I won’t be taking my bike to pick up Bell tonight. I’m not sure she’d appreciate climbing on the back in a dress and heels even though I wouldn’t mind. Hmm . . . maybe I should reconsider? Cruising up the hill to my driveway, I stop and put both feet on the ground—my intent was that today would be a day of reflection, but now I see it as another new beginning.

CHAPTER 16

What Now

Bell

Magic is in the air. The Amazing Grace Sound Studios have been transformed into a place fit for a princess for the unveiling of Ivy’s new album, My Mended Heart, and by none other than myself. I couldn’t be prouder of how it turned out. Elation is buoying me and nothing is going to squash it. I can’t believe how much one day can change everything—put things in perspective. I shouldn’t have been so worried about the past. I need to concentrate on the future . . . as Ben said. Because really—that’s all that matters.

I breathe in the scent of the flowers that fill the room and then shift my gaze to admire the glimmer of light from the crystal chandeliers. The room looks magical, just as I envisioned. Amazing Grace has been transformed from a concrete hangar into a glittering nightclub. With six crystal chandeliers, dozens of round tables, and more than a hundred vases of purple dahlias and, of course, a splash of ivy.

I’m not late, but I’m by no means early. Jack and my mom drop me off before they park the car because they know I’m fretting. I have so much to do in so little time. Ivy and Xander are right on my heels and they try to catch up with me, but all I can squeeze out is a quick hello and congratulations. I have to run to make sure the food has arrived, and the table centers are just as I described, not to mention make sure Nix and Garrett get off the stage and stop fooling around. I’m feeling a little overwhelmed and I also feel bad for not bringing Ben, but we had discussed it last week. I’d told him I’d be too busy to bring a guest. That was the truth, but not the whole truth.