Don't Look Back: sequel to He Loves Me Not (Lily's Story, Book 2) (7 page)

Next I went out to the garage, where I had stored all the boxes I’d packed up the previous summer. I had been careful to label each box. I divided the boxes into two groups; those that I would keep and those that I would donate. Since I had very little storage space at my California house, I wanted to minimize my “keep” pile.

After working for thirty minutes, I looked over at Greta, who had curled up in a corner of the garage, and smiled. She had been very good while I had worked and I was pleased. Deciding to take a break and reward her, I brought her out back and threw the ball for a while. Then I gave her a good scratch and she seemed to smile with pleasure.

Hunger pangs reminded me it was time for lunch, but there was no food in the house. I needed to go to the grocery store and buy enough food to sustain me for the few days I’d be here. Debating whether to trust Greta to be left on her own in the house or to take her with me and leave her in the car, I decided to leave her home. I hoped that our little play time had tired her out enough that she would behave. I had brought her pet bed into the house, so I encouraged her to lay on it, then grabbing my purse, I went out the door.

Within thirty minutes I was back and found Greta waiting for my return. It didn’t appear that she had bothered anything. When she saw me, she ran over for some attention. “You’re a good girl,” I said, scratching between her ears. Her tail wagged happily.

After fixing myself lunch, I took the food out back and let Greta spend some time outside while I ate. Fifteen minutes later I called to Greta, “Okay, girl, time to get back to work.” When I opened the door she raced to be the first inside and I patted her as she pushed past me.

I spent the next two hours finalizing my decisions on whether each item in the house would stay or go. By the time all was said and done, I had very little that I wanted to keep. I realized that the things I really wanted were at my apartment in Reno. Things like the kitchen implements that had belonged to my Dad. But I especially wanted my Christmas ornaments. Each one had a special memory associated with it. But they were in Trevor’s possession now.

I wanted them back.

Chapter Eleven

The truck arrived first thing the next morning. I showed the men which items and boxes I wanted to donate and they had them loaded in less than an hour. After they left I walked around the house and couldn’t believe how empty it was. The house just didn’t feel like the same place where I had spent so much time with Dad.

I gathered all the items I wanted to keep into a corner of the living room and fixed myself some lunch. I had decided to leave the refrigerator for whoever bought the house. When I’d gone to the store I’d bought a package of disposable plates and utensils so that I could prepare simple meals without using dishes.

As I ate, I thought about the best way to get the items I was keeping to my new place in California. I knew I couldn’t fit everything in my Honda, so I decided to spend the money to have it all shipped. Because there wasn’t a lot, I hoped the cost would be relatively low. I had kept the yellow pages and found a listing for shipping companies. After calling a few, I found one whose prices were reasonable and I arranged to have them come by the next day to pick up my stuff.

That afternoon the cleaning crew came and spent several hours making the place spotless. I paid them and thanked them for doing such a great job. I thought the walls could use a coat of paint, but decided to put the house on the market as is and see what happened. As I was looking at the now familiar yellow pages for realtors, I ran across an ad for an agent whose name looked familiar. Then I remembered he’d been a friend of Dad’s. I called him and explained who I was and what I wanted to do. He promised to come over as soon as he had a free minute.

A little while later Don Hunter knocked on my door. I put Greta in the back yard so she wouldn’t get in the way and invited Dad’s old friend in.

“Hi, Lily,” he said. “How are you?”

It felt strange to hear someone call me Lily. I had started getting used to going by Kate. “I’m doing fine. Like I said on the phone, I’ve decided to sell Dad’s house. Would you be interested in listing it?”

“Absolutely.”

We discussed the details and set a price, then I signed the paperwork making him my real estate agent. He promised to get the house listed the next day and I gave him my cell number so he could keep me informed.

That night I slept on a sleeping bag I had kept - I had donated my mattress since I already had a bed in California that worked fine - and woke up feeling stiff. Greta had curled up next to me, once again keeping me company and helping me to not feel alone.

The shipping company came later that morning and took care of the items I wanted shipped. Once they had left, there was no reason for me to stay. I packed my suitcase and loaded Greta and our things into my Honda. Before leaving, I went inside one last time and mentally said good-bye. I still had my memories and felt good about putting Lovelock behind me.

It took less than two hours to reach Reno. The more I had thought about the belongings in Trevor’s possession, the more determined I became to retrieve them. I wondered if my key to the apartment would still work. I had only been gone a few weeks, so it was possible that Trevor hadn’t bothered to change the locks. Technically, the lease for the apartment was under my name, so I had every right to go in and take what belonged to me. The biggest challenge would be doing it without Trevor knowing.

As I entered the outer edges of Reno, I wondered if I should just keep going and forget about getting my belongings back. The thought of running into Trevor nearly paralyzed me. What would he do if he caught me? Would he try to imprison me again? Would I be able to get away? Should I even risk it? It was only stuff anyway. Was it really that important?

When I imagined the upcoming Christmas and pictured my Christmas tree with nothing but store bought ornaments, and imagined my treasured ornaments either displayed on Trevor’s tree, or left in the closet, or worse yet, destroyed, fury overtook my paralysis and I knew I had to at least try to get my belongings. They were meaningless to Trevor but meant everything to me. It just wasn’t right that he should have them.

I decided I would start by driving past Rob’s Auto Body shop. That’s where Trevor had been working when I’d left a few weeks ago. It didn’t take long to get there and I drove slowly by. My purpose in going there was to see if Trevor’s car was parked there. If it was, I would feel pretty safe in going to the apartment and getting my things. But as soon as the shop came into view, it was clear that something was wrong. The large doors for the car bays were all closed and there were no cars in the parking lot. It looked like Rob’s Auto Body shop was closed.

Driving past, I continued on for a few minutes, then pulled into a parking lot and turned off my car, wondering what to do next. Greta looked at me expectantly, so I reached over and patted her. She stood on the seat and began wagging her tail, but the doggie seatbelt kept her from moving around too much. I thought it might be a good idea to go somewhere where she could get out for a few minutes and I could think about my next move. Since I had recently moved from the area, I was familiar with the location of the parks and we drove to the nearest one.

After attaching Greta’s leash to her collar, I helped her out of the car and we walked around the edges of the park. When she stopped to explore a particularly interesting bush, I pulled out my cell phone and called information to get the number for Rob’s Auto Body shop. The operator gave me the number and asked if I wanted to be connected. I said yes and listened to the phone ring. After several rings a recording came on and said the number had been disconnected.

Wow, I thought. I guess they’ve gone out of business. This information added a new twist to my plans. If Trevor no longer worked there, where did he work? And if he was unemployed, had an arrest hanging over him and was most likely broke, how would he feel if he saw me? Would he blame me for all of his problems? Would he get violent?

Chapter Twelve

I drove toward my old apartment with caution. Even as I approached the place where I used to live, I could easily see Trevor’s blue Camaro parked at the curb. I knew if he were to see my Honda he would recognize it. Pulling to the side of the road half a dozen houses away, I hoped that from this distance he wouldn’t notice me.

After half an hour with nothing happening, I started thinking about ways to draw Trevor away from the apartment. Then it came to me. I could call him and ask him to meet me somewhere. Somewhere far enough away to give me time to go in, get my stuff, and get out. And I had to have enough time to do this before he realized I was a no show.

As I contemplated speaking to him, I could feel myself getting shaky. I was afraid how he would respond to me calling him and I wasn’t so sure he’d even be interested or willing to meet me. I thought about the emails he’d sent and how he’d threatened me.

Is this really worth it? Just to get back some ornaments? It seemed silly as I thought about it, but deep down I felt like I needed to prove to myself that I could take control of my life and that I had every right to retrieve my personal belongings.

Taking a deep breath, I first pressed star sixty-seven so that my number would be hidden from Trevor’s caller ID. Then I punched in his number from memory. I listened as it rang once, twice, then I heard his familiar voice.

“Hello?”

My heart raced and I felt my hands go clammy.

“Hello?” he asked again.

My lips moved, but no sound came out.

“I can hear you breathing.” He paused, then demanded, “Who is this?”

“Trevor?” It came out as a whisper and I had to clear my throat. “Trevor,” I said more loudly.

He was silent, then said, “Lily? Is that you?”

I could picture the look of uncertainty on his face. “Yes.” I said it with more confidence than I felt.

“Where are you?”

My eyes were glued to the apartment, half-expecting him to come running out and see me. I realized I had one hand poised above the key in the ignition, ready to bolt at the slightest movement. I heard Greta panting next to me and somehow looking at her gave me courage. “I’m here. In Reno.”

I could hear him gasp.

“Where exactly? Can I see you?”

I hadn’t expected him to take the bait quite so easily and I found myself smiling. This is going to be easier than I thought. I decided to play it coy. “I
would
like to meet with you, but I’m scared.”

“You don’t need to be scared, Lily. I won’t do anything to hurt you. I promise.” He paused. “I love you.”

His voice cracked and I thought he might be crying. I started to feel guilty for tricking him. He would be excited to see me and then I wouldn’t show up. Imagining how I would feel in his place, I felt my resolve slipping. I took a deep breath, trying to harden my determination. “Okay,” I said. “Go to Circus Circus and wait by the midway. I’ll be watching for you.”

“Okay. What’s your phone number? In case I need to call you.”

“Trevor, I don’t feel comfortable giving that to you yet. Let’s see how our meeting goes first.”

“Fine,” he said, obviously unhappy.

I noticed his tears seemed to have stopped. Testing him I murmured, “Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

“Please, Lily. I really want to see you,” he rushed to assure me.

Acting like he had persuaded me I said, “All right. I’ll see you when you get here.”

“I love you,” he said before hanging up.

I closed my phone and stared in the direction of the apartment. It only took moments before he appeared. As I watched him walk away from the apartment and toward his car, I felt my heart pound. That man was my husband. We were in love only a few months ago. We’ve created the child growing in my belly. What happened to kill that love? And was it really dead?

I felt my hand reaching toward the door, ready to open it. I could feel his strong arms around me and re-experienced the happy memories we had shared. I suddenly wanted that again. I wanted it so bad that I could almost taste it. The scent of Trevor’s cologne seemed to fill my nostrils and I felt such an overwhelming longing that I almost couldn’t stand it.

I pulled on the door handle and the door swung open. My feet touched the pavement and I pulled myself to a standing position. I opened my mouth.

“Trevor!”

A figure approached Trevor from the direction of the apartment.

“Trevor!” the voice called again.

He turned toward the person calling out to him. I squinted, trying to identify the person who was now handing him something. I watched as Trevor leaned toward the person, then put his arms around her - I was certain now that it was a woman - and pulled her against him. It felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me. Then, when he pressed his mouth to hers, I heard myself actually cry out. I whipped my head back and forth to see if anyone had heard me, but it hadn’t been as loud as I’d thought.

I sunk back into the car and closed the door, my eyes riveted to Trevor and the woman. They pulled apart and a memory filled my mind.

I felt myself transported back to my sociology class. Jealousy stung my heart as I watched Trevor and a beautiful auburn-haired girl flirting.

The girl kissing Trevor was that girl. It was Amanda.

Chapter Thirteen

Why would Trevor tell me he loves me and in the next moment be kissing Amanda? Did he say “I love you” in front of her? My earlier guilt at tricking him vanished. Instead it was replaced by fury. He was the one tricking me! He didn’t love me. Why would he even want to meet with me? What was his motive?

Putting that aside for the moment, I focused on my current obstacle. Trevor was pulling away from the curb, which gave me about forty minutes, but Amanda was now in the apartment. I couldn’t very well go over there and barge in and demand my stuff back.

My shoulders slumped as I realized my plan had failed. It was unlikely that Trevor would fall for my ploy again. “I guess I’ll just have to forget about my stuff,” I said to Greta. She barked in response.