Fate Interrupted (25 page)

“Well,” Evy
sighed, slinging her purse over her shoulder and getting up from the stool in
the kitchen. “I guess he’s not coming.”

“That
asshole!”
Ben brought his fist down onto the metal table like a hammer.

“Ben,” Brooke
calmly admonished.

He pressed his
lips together until they turned white, forcing his next bout of harsh words
back down his esophagus.

“Are you sure
you don’t want to call him?”

Evy shook her
head vehemently. “I can take a hint.”

Brooke stared at
Evy through eyes brimming with wet pity. “Maybe he was in an accident.”

“Maybe I was
right all along and he’s just another douchebag player.”

Ben withdrew a
cigarette with trembling fingers. “I see that dude again and I’m going to bust
him right in the mouth.”

Brooke pursed
her lips. “No you’re not. Go outside and smoke your cigarette and let the
grownups talk.”

“Don’t talk to
me like that!”

Brooke honed her
gaze and Ben grudgingly turned for the back door, forcefully pushing it open
with both hands.

“You okay if I
take off?”

Brooke glanced
up front to the handful of customers and sighed. A restaurant without booze in
Milwaukee was like New Orleans without shrimp gumbo. “We’ll be fine. Go home
and get some rest. Watch a good movie and take your mind off of things for awhile.
Everything will look better in the morning, I promise.”

Evy bit her
bottom lip to stop it from quivering. “I just don’t get it,” she murmured,
staring blankly at a convection oven against the wall. “I thought…”

Brooke placed
her hands over Evy’s. “I know, sweetie. I did, too.”

“I just hope
this doesn’t mean he’s flaking out with the city council.”

“I’m sure he
would never do that.”

“Are you?”

Brooke swallowed
hard without answering.

Evy pulled away,
ready to put Dean in the rearview mirror no matter how much her gut moaned with
want. She refused to let another man knock her down again, regardless of how good
looking and charming he may be. She had read him all wrong and couldn’t believe
it. The passion between them had been so hot, so real. It made no sense. She
shook her head, clearing out the cobwebs of bewilderment. “Okay,” she sniffled,
heading for the front. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Brooke watched
her sister tiredly push through the swinging door and fade from view.

***

Dean tightened
his necktie in the mirror, hating himself for what he was about to do. It was
suicide. He checked his phone again and puckered his brow, knowing how pissed Evy
must be at him. She hadn’t called one time to see where he was at. Not even a
quick text. Her silence spoke volumes. The time stamp on the cell made his
stomach queasy. In twenty minutes he would be at Megan’s house and the thought
of seeing Clay again made him sick. It would take a great deal of restraint to
not punch him in the face again.

Dean quit
fiddling with the crimson colored tie and leaned on the sink, dropping his head
between his shoulders, unable to stomach his reflection any longer. He didn’t
recognize the man looking back. He had the same sharp nose and cheekbones but
it wasn’t him. Dean grabbed the beer on the sink and took a long swill,
draining the bottle. The glass clanked loudly back to the granite countertop
and he shut off the light before he could catch another glimpse of the coward
in the mirror.

The black box on
his bed laughed at him, chastising him for falling into this foolish trap like
some careless teenager. He pulled a folded note from his pocket and read it
again. The urge for another round of edits called to him like a lighthouse on a
stormy night but he was out of time. It would have to do. He folded it back up
and stuffed it and the black box into separate pockets, refusing to let them
touch under any circumstance. He grabbed his keys and left without locking the
door, trying to talk himself out of the whole thing.

Chapter
Fourteen

Dean stepped on
the gas, putting as much distance between him and Megan’s house as quickly as possible.
He wiped lipstick from his lips and loosened his tie, cringing at how happy she
had been tonight and hating her for it. In the end, all he could do was quietly
exist in Megan’s glow. That, and order another stiff drink. Her audible gasp at
the sight of the diamond ring haunted his thoughts. It was official: he
was now engaged and wanted to die
.

He checked the
rearview mirror again, trying to pick out the headlights that belonged to Mr. Ryder,
knowing he was back there. The night’s drinks, however, blurred the lights into
burning orbs so he returned his attention to the road and slammed on the
brakes, screeching to a stop less than two feet from a new
Camaro
.
He breathed a sigh of relief and glanced at the dashboard clock. The glowing
green numbers informed him it was way too late to stop by Shaun’s house.

“Fuck it,” he
said, taking a right when he should have gone left.

He needed someone
to talk to, even if that someone was the guy whose career he had just single
handedly ruined. Maybe Shaun would take a swing at him and maybe he had it
coming. If Shaun wouldn’t, Carrie probably would. The thought of Megan being
the only person left on the planet who would still talk to him scared him to
death. He hadn’t felt this alone since his parents’ accident. His glassy eyes
checked the mirror again. If he went anywhere near Evy’s apartment Ryder would
know, and it would be game over for everyone. The handwritten note burned a
hole in his pocket. He doubted Shaun was up for doing a favor but he had to
try. She deserved to at least know the truth.

***

Shaun’s house
was as dark as the feeling in the pit of Dean’s stomach. He parked behind Jon’s
Honda Accord in the street and shut his car off. Absolute silence washed over
him. He reached for the door handle and noticed a pair of headlights blink out in
his side mirror. Dean’s heart jumped. He climbed
out,
glancing at the silhouette of what looked like a Ford Taurus parked a block and
a half down the street. A black shadow sat behind the wheel like it was death
itself. The sweat glistening across Dean’s forehead had nothing to do with the
humidity lacing the night. He stumbled up the driveway, careful not to brush
against Shaun’s blade silver Corvette. The side gate in the privacy fence gently
clicked open. He stepped through and carefully shut it, not wanting to wake
Carrie or the kids.

Ghastly thoughts
assaulted him as he stumbled along the side of the house. He wasn’t sure which
he found harder to believe: somebody was tailing him or that he
was now engaged
. Shaun and Jon whipped their heads around when
Dean rounded the corner like he was a serial killer.
Tiki
torches cast jumping shadows across their bewildered faces, enriching the night
with the potent scent of citronella. Recessed lighting lit up the swimming pool
behind them, casting an eerie glow around the yard. Dean stopped in front of
the patio table with his hands in his pockets as they quietly took each other
in.

“What the hell?”
Shaun murmured, setting his beer down and sitting up straighter.

Jon crushed a cigarette
into an ashtray overflowing with shriveled butts. “What’re you doing here so
late? Don’t you have to work in the morning?”

Dean quietly
pulled back a chair and dropped into it with an exasperated sigh. He ran a hand
through his hair, not sure where to even begin. Shaun got up and went inside
and Dean didn’t know if he would be back or not. It seemed like just yesterday it
was Mindy’s birthday but so much had happened in such a short amount of time
and, deep down, he knew things would never be the same.

Jon furrowed his
brow. “Are you okay?”

Dean laughed
like people do when they haven’t slept. “No, I’m not.”

Shaun came back
outside and traded a look with Jon as he passed out bottles of beer with his
smiling face plastered to their sides. “You really know how to pick
em
, man.”

“Look, Shaun,
I’m sorry about…”

Shaun raised a
hand. “Shit happens. No one could’ve seen any of this coming and whatever
happens was meant to be.”

Dean stared at
him, astounded by Shaun’s generous way of looking at things.

Shaun sat back
down. “So what’s up, man? You look like you just came from a wedding.”

“More like a funeral,”
Dean grumbled, popping the top and spending the next twenty-five minutes
filling in the blanks. Shaun and Jon listened without interrupting, their eyes
narrowing in disbelief as he spilled his twisted guts. When he finished, they just
sat there staring at him with their jaws dangling in the air. Crickets chirped in
the bushes around them, picking up the stunned slack in conversation as the
stars sparkled in the heavens above, indifferent to any of their troubles. A
firefly flickered between them, leaving a neon tracer in its wake.

Jon arched a
quizzical eyebrow. “Since when do aldermen have creepy dudes like that on the
payroll?”

Dean shook his
head. “But you should see this Clay guy’s house. I don’t know what an alderman
makes but it can’t be enough to cover a spread like that.”

“Mafia.”

Dean and Jon
turned to Shaun with matching puzzled looks.

Shaun looked
around like maybe Ryder was peeking over the fence right now, watching their
every move. Shaun leaned forward and lowered his voice.
“Wouldn’t
surprise me.
Aldermen have a lot of say over city contracts, from construction
bids and building permits to city garbage collections. Your
Mr. Ryder
sounds like a Chicago wash-up.
He’s probably been in the biz for decades.”

Jon leaned back
in the padded chair and gestured with his bottle. “He makes a good point,
yo
.”

“So are you really
going to go to Hawaii tomorrow and marry this
nutbag
?”

Dean examined Shaun
in the flickering light. “What choice do I have?”

“You don’t” Jon
said bluntly, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “But that’s not to say you can’t get
out of it later on. You just need a solid plan.”

Shaun jerked his
head around like he had just heard something. Jon followed his nervous gaze
around the fenced in yard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

Shaun took a
slow drink and swallowed. “I still can’t believe they fucked me like that.” He
stared forlornly at the illuminated pool, its water as smooth as glass. “I’m
going to lose my house.”

“Do you have a
nest egg?” Dean asked.

“A small one I
was hoping to possibly open my own brewery with someday, but it won’t take long
to burn through that, not with this mortgage.”

Dean surveyed
the modest sized ranch house with its large patio and pool. “I can help you get
by for a while.”

“Me
too.”

Shaun turned to
Jon and wrinkled his forehead. “I just loaned you a hundred bucks last week.”

“Yeah, but I get
paid soon.”

Shaun pushed
himself out of his chair with a short laugh. “I thought you said Barnes &
Noble was paying you in gift cards now.”

Jon chuckled. “I
wouldn’t be surprised if that ended up happening.”

Dean rested his
elbows on the table and massaged his swollen face while Shaun went around the
side of the house to take a leak. “This is so fucked up.”

“I can’t believe
you’re engaged.”

“Will you stop
saying that? It’s not a real engagement; it’s just…for now.”

Jo nodded,
rubbing his bottle like a genie’s lamp. “There’s got to be a better way, man.”

“I’m all ears,
Jon. If you’ve got something better, I’d love to hear it.”

Jon frowned and
then swung his gaze around the backyard when something moved on the other side
of the pool. Dean twisted around as well. They squinted into the shadows where
silence waited to greet them.

“Probably just a
possum,” Jon whispered coldly, his bug eyes telling a different story.

Dean slowly
turned back around, his paranoia growing by leaps and bounds.
“Sounded bigger than a possum.”

“Right?”

“Hey, did you
guys hear that?” Shaun asked, zipping his shorts up and hurrying back to the
table. “I’m totally freaking out right now.”

“You need to
forget about that Evy chick and do what this Clay guy says or we’ll all be
screwed.”

Dean turned to
Jon, pulling his eyebrows together. “You think?”

A simple shrug
made Jon’s shoulders bob. “Or we could kill him.”

Shaun managed a
laugh.

“Seriously, it
wouldn’t be that hard. Don’t you guys watch
Breaking
Bad
?”