Fate Interrupted (23 page)

There was a slight
pause.
“Seriously?”

“The notice was
signed by Megan’s dad – Clay Crawford, the alderman guy.”

“Oh shit,”
Shaun said slowly.
“You don’t think…”

“That’s exactly
what I think.” Dean slammed the fridge shut with his foot. “This prick is
stepping on my neck until I get with the program.”

“What program?”

“The
program with his pregnant daughter.”

“Oh, hell no!”

Dean inhaled a
long breath and held it. “I confronted him about Sugars last night at his
house.”

“What!”

“He insisted he
had nothing to do with it but I know better, especially now. I’m
tellin
you it’s him.”

“But what’d you say to him last night?”

Dean stopped in
the living room, his heart pounding. “I might have punched him right in the
face.”

Shaun went
silent.

“It was an
accident, and I didn’t know he’d go after you next. I didn’t know he knew about
Sugars, let alone you.”

“You’re being tailed.”

Dean’s chest
inflated. He glanced out the patio door to the parking lot.

“They’re probably listening right now.”

Dean squeezed
his eyes into slits, watching a black SUV pull in and park. “I doubt it.”

“Your phone is bugged.”

“My phone is not
bugged
.”

“Mine probably is, too.”

“This isn’t
Person of Interest
.”

“Then how’d he know about me and Evy?”

“I don’t know.”

“Dean, I don’t need to tell you I could lose my
practice over something like this, if I haven’t already. This is the kind of
thing that could end up making it difficult to land a job at Target during the
holidays.”

A lady wearing
black slacks and a cream colored top climbed out of the SUV in high heels and
unfastened a little girl from a car seat in the back. Dean exhaled a weary
breath. “Let me call you back.”

“Wait…”

He ended the
call and stared at the picture of him and Evy at the ballpark, his thoughts nose-diving
to the ground, the Earth rushing up at him in a furious hurry. Suddenly,
winning Evy back was just one of his insurmountable hurdles. He needed to talk
to her and kicked himself for not taking the opportunity last night. He closed
his eyes, shutting everything out. There was no point in dragging her in any
deeper and he knew it. Because of him her business was in jeopardy, and now so
was Shaun’s.

His phone rang
in his hand, startling him. His breath hitched when he saw the name on the
bright screen. He took a deep breath and slapped his face, trying to clear the
foggy mixture of sleep and anger from his head. “Hey you,” he answered warmly.

“Hey yourself,”
Evy replied.

He licked his lips,
nearly smelling her perfume over the phone. “How are you?’

“I’ve been better.”

He snorted into
the phone.
“Yeah, me too.”

“Listen, Dean, I just wanted to apologize
for…shutting you out over this whole Megan thing.”

“You don’t have
to apologize, Evy, believe me if anyone should be…”

“Please, let me finish?”

He swallowed his
words and sucked in another deep breath to calm his racing pulse.

“I had no right to do that. This isn’t your fault,”
her voice
cracked.

Her words melted
his heart. “I don’t care about what happened in the past, all I care about is what
will happen in the future.”

She paused just
long enough to make his world sputter.
“I
agree.”

“And without
you…there is no future.”

There was a light
sob.
“You don’t know how glad I am to
hear you say that.”

Relief flooded
his system. “I need to see you before I go crazy.”

“
When?”

“Now.”

Another
sniffle.
“Okay.”

“Where are you?”

“At Sugars.”

His eyebrows
drew together as Clay’s words flittered through his mind. “Did the city rescind
Sugars’ notice yet?”

Silence briefly took
the line.
“No, why?
Did you talk to someone?”
she
asked,
her tone light and hopeful.

He cringed and
checked his watch. There was still time. “I did, but…”

“Who?”

“An alderman,
but I don’t know how much pull he’s going to have. He said he might deal with
it today.”

There was
another pause as his words sank in.

“Dean?”

His blood
pounded thickly in his temples.
“Yeah?”

“Hurry, okay?”

He bit his lower
lip. “Let me grab a quick shower and I’ll be right there.”

“Aren’t you at work?”

“Took
the day off.”

“Oh,”
she replied faintly, her voice just
above a whisper.
“See you soon?”

Someone knocked loudly
on his front door. His head snapped around to it.
“Very soon.”

Dean hung up and
crept to the door, looked out the peephole with one eye closed. His heart rate
shot up. Clay stood there looking back, a smirk covering his face like he could
see Dean in his underwear. He tiptoed back into the bedroom and traded out his
cell phone for a pair of gym shorts lying on a chair.

Another persistent
knock made him forget about grabbing a shirt. He threw the shorts on and
tromped across the living room in his bare feet, dying to know what this was
all about. He yanked the door back and his adrenaline spiked when an elderly
man in a black suit stepped out from around the corner.

Clay lifted his
brow. “Hello, Dean.”

“Who’s this?”
Dean nodded to the bald man wearing dark framed glasses.

Clay adjusted
his necktie and grinned. “Sorry to drop in on you like this. Do you have a
moment?” he smiled, ignoring the question and clasping his hands in front of
his pinstriped suit.

Dean blinked,
his mind whirling to explain the unexpected visit. He turned for his bedroom
and left the door open to go throw on a t-shirt and pair of sneakers while Clay
and the other man let themselves in.

“Nice place,”
Clay said, surveying the condo while his friend shut and locked the door.

Dean came back
into the living room and jerked his chin to the other man. “
This
your
lawyer?”

Clay exchanged
glances with the man and chuckled. “This is Mr. Ryder. He’s
an…
associate
of mine who hopes to help us come to some sort of an
agreement
.”

Dean ran a hand
through his hair, attempting to smooth his nappy bed head.
“Agreement?”

Clay gestured to
the couch. “Do you mind?”

Dean shrugged his
shoulders and watched Clay unbutton his coat and take a seat. Mr. Ryder remained
standing, his hands folded in front of him like he was Secret Service, annoying
Dean with his mechanical presence. “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked
Mr. Ryder. “Maybe some prune juice or Metamucil?”

Mr. Ryder stared
blankly at him through dead eyes, lacking humor as much as he did color.

Dean snorted and
turned back to Clay, honing his gaze to a razor’s edge. “What do you know about
Shaun Morris?”

Clay stretched
an arm out along the back of the couch and crossed his legs like a girl. “I
know he’s going to have to take up a new line of work.” He winked at Mr. Ryder,
a sinister grin sliding across his smoothly shaven face.

Angry butterflies
exploded in Dean’s gut, turning his insides to mush. He clenched his teeth and
curled his hands into fists. “What did you do?” he whispered.

Clay raised his
eyebrows into the middle of his forehead. “What I had to do to protect my
family, Dean.”

Mr. Ryder watched
Dean like a hawk. Dean wasn’t even sure the old fart was breathing.

“You
sonofabitch
,” Dean hissed, taking a step toward Clay.

Mr. Ryder responded,
stepping forward and positioning himself between Dean and Clay.

“Careful Dean,
you don’t want to antagonize Mr. Ryder here,” Clay said smugly, lifting his
chin. “He can tend to get a bit melodramatic.”

Dean glared at
Mr. Ryder, who stared back with indifferent eyes. Dean couldn’t stop a chuckle.
“Maybe some
Activia
would help.”

Clay tossed his
head back and howled with laughter. “You’re a funny guy, Dean.”

Mr. Ryder,
however, didn’t crack a smile.

“What’s this all
about?” Dean asked
,
tightening his fists and making a
vein bulge out along his biceps.

Clay’s amusement
sobered. His cold eyes tightened and he spoke gravely. “I want you to start
being a man and live up to your responsibilities, like we talked about in your
office.”

Dean tilted his
head to one side.

“You got my
daughter pregnant and now it’s time to play ball or I will crush you and everyone
you know into tiny little pieces.”

Dean tried
hiding the incredulous look warping his face and lost the battle. “Why are you
doing this?” he whispered.

“Because I’m
running for mayor, and then I’ll run for congress, and
you
are not going to fuck that up for me! I cannot have a pregnant,
unmarried daughter on my hands. No, let me rephrase that…I
won’t
have a pregnant, unmarried daughter on my hands. It would
kill me in the polls and I’ll be damned if I’ll let some horny pretty boy think
he can screw my daughter and walk away scot-free when the shit hits the fan!”

Dean’s chest quivered
beneath his red t-shirt. Sweat formed on his upper lip during a dumbfounded
silence as a new realization settled in like a cold winter’s night.

Clay leaned
forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I’m going to be frank with you,
Dean.”

“Oh, please do.”

“This is what’s
going to happen. You are going to man up and marry my daughter or I will ruin
everyone you know, including your little law firm.”

Dean laughed
sharply. “You overestimate your power,
Alderman
!”

Clay feigned a hurtful
look. “Do I? Perhaps you should seek a second opinion on that. Maybe Evy or Shaun
would have a different outlook.”

“You leave them
out of this!”

Mr. Ryder
shifted in his stance, not taking his dead eyes off of Dean.

“Little late for
that,
Deano
,” Clay chuckled, leaning back into the
couch and crossing his legs again. “Now, if you do the right thing, and make an
honest woman out of Megan, I will reinstate Sugars’ liquor license and I won’t go
after Shaun’s wife next.”

Dean gasped out
loud, his world falling apart at the seams.

An innocent
frown shaped Clay’s lips. “Be a shame if they lost their jobs at the same time,
especially with such a nice family and house to look after.”

Dean’s breath
came in short spurts that didn’t make a dent. “You wouldn’t.”

“Not if you play
ball.”

“What about Shaun?”

Clay picked a
piece of lint from his slacks and let it lazily float to the floor. “I’m afraid
it’s too late for your friend. What
’s done
is done, there’s
no going back once a sexual misconduct charge is filed. However, I will get the
charge dropped but I’m afraid it’ll still make the news.” An ominous grin unfolded
across his face. “He’ll be lucky to be working at Burger King next quarter.”

It felt like
steam was jutting from Dean’s ears. “You fucker!” he yelled, rushing Clay.

Mr. Ryder
knocked him off his feet in midstride, sending him crashing into the patio
door. Dean crumbled to the floor and turned to the old man, stunned by his
quickness. Dean got to his feet, weighing his options as Mr. Ryder calmly clasped
his hands in front of him again, clearly ready for more.

Clay flashed a
cocky grin.
“Pretty strong for an old timer, huh?”

Dean glared at
Mr. Ryder through wild eyes. “Not bad,” he said, charging the old man with a
determined battle cry.

Mr. Ryder deflected
Dean’s advance and spun him to the ground, twisting an arm behind his back until
it nearly snapped off. Dean cried out in pain as Mr. Ryder sinuously planted a
knee in the back of his neck like a cop. He pulled a switchblade from a coat
pocket and hit a button on the side. The cold blade flung open and dug into
Dean’s cheek, Mr. Ryder’s sour breath washing over him in warm waves.