Hard (21 page)

“We got paid?”

“Yeah. Another ten-thousand, cash, all twenties. We’re clean, Stiles. We don’t have to move this time. Are you sure there isn’t another reason?”

“I can’t stay here, Treble.”

“Charlotte is a big place man. You may never see her again.”

“I know. But knowing she’s here is tough. Better to make a clean break.”

Treble thought about it and decided that where Stiles went, he went, and he didn’t want his friend to suffer. “We’ll break the news to the brothers together.”

“Maybe it’s time to disband the Aces.”

Treble shook his head. “Fuck that. Where one of us goes, we all go.”

“And Lindy?”

“What about her?”

“Are you willing to walk away from that?”

“Walk away from what? She’s the one who ended it.”

“And there is nothing more to it than that? You didn’t even ask why?”

“That’s all there is. I didn’t do anything to her to cause it, and since she won’t tell me why, I’m washing my hands of her.”

“Just be sure, man. Just be sure.”

“I’m sure. We’re brothers and nothing will come between that.”

Stiles smiled, grateful for Treble’s support, but concerned that he was forcing him into making a choice that he would later regret. “Okay. Thanks.”

Treble smiled at Stiles, trying to cheer him up. Never had his wingman looked so down. “Hey, this is probably for the best! I’ve pissed off almost all the women around here, so now it’s time to move on.”

Stiles snorted and gave him a sideways grin. Once this weight in the pit of his stomach disappeared, he was going to develop Treble’s attitude. He held his bottle aloft until Treble clinked his to it. “To new women, just waiting to be pissed off.”

Treble chuckled and took a pull of his beer as Stiles did the same, but even as he did, he wondered if he would meet anyone else whose kisses were as sweet and tasty as Lindy’s.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

“Willis Early Childhood Development Center. This is Lindy, how may I help you?”

“Lindy, can you stop by on your way home?”

“Bridget?” Lindy asked, barely recognizing her sister’s voice. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to talk to you. Can you come by?”

Lindy felt a cold hand squeeze her heart. “Bridget? Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything,” Bridget murmured, her voice so faint and weak Lindy had to strain to hear her. “I don’t know what to do and I need someone to talk to.”

“Do I need to come now?”

“No. No, it can wait until after you get off work. I…just need a friend right now.”

“I’ll be there straight away, as soon as I get off, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you, Lindy,” Bridget said before killing the connection.

Lindy stared at phone a moment before replacing the handset in the cradle. She didn’t like the way Bridget sounded at all, her voice and manner more subdued than she any time she could remember. Even when Kirby, their much loved pet dog, had crossed the Rainbow Bridge while they were in high school, Bridget didn’t sound as low as she did now.

Lindy glanced at the clock. It was only a few minutes after five, and the pickup rush would be starting soon. She rose from her desk, taking the small ring of keys from her drawer.

“Ella,” she said as she stepped into one of the third-grade classes. “Can you lock up tonight? I need to get out of here promptly at six. I’ve got my key to open in the morning.”

“Sure,” the woman said taking the keys from Lindy.

“Thanks. I owe you one.” She returned to her office and started making ready to leave as soon as the last of the munchkins were picked up. Her sister needed her and she could trust Ella to make sure the building was secured.

Lindy wheeled her trusty little Golf into Bridget’s apartment complex, parking in the visitor slot next her sister’s Escape. The last kid was picked up at 5:52, and she followed the father out. She had been fretting since Bridget’s call, wondering had Bridget so upset. She had almost called her back several times, worried something tragic had happened, but she restrained herself.

She rapped on the door, fidgeting in impatience as she waited for it to open. When it did she stared at Bridget in concern a moment before stepping into the apartment. Bridget looked ill, her eyes red and puffy, and her normal immaculate appearance had been replaced with an air of dishevelment.

“You okay? You’re not coming down with something are you?”

“No, and no,” Bridget murmured as she shut the door behind Lindy.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I’m a mess. I don’t know what to do, and I don’t have anyone else to talk to.”

“You know you can depend on me, Sis. Tell me what’s wrong,” Lindy encouraged as she settled onto Bridget’s sofa.

Bridget settled on the other end of the couch, but said nothing as she stared at her feet.

“Bridget? Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Promise you won’t hate me.”

“Hate you?” Lindy exclaimed. “What are you talking about? I could never hate you!”

“I’ve messed up,” Bridget said softly. “I’ve messed up bad.”

Lindy could feel that cold hand squeezing her heart again. She had felt something was off with Bridget for months, but Bridget had always denied there was anything bothering her other than pre-wedding nerves. Obviously there was something more at play than an attack of the vapors.

“Just tell me what’s happened. I’m sure we can figure something out.”

“I’m trapped. I don’t know what to do. No matter what I do, someone is going to get hurt…”

“Bridget,” Lindy said softly. “I don’t what you are talking about. You’re not making sense. What’s going on? What did you do?”

Bridget looked up and stared into Lindy’s eyes. “Have you ever been in love?”

“What?”

“Have you ever been in love?” Bridget repeated.

“No, not really. Why?”

“It’s not something that you can turn on and off. It just…happens. Or it doesn’t.”

“Okay…” Lindy said slowly, wondering where this conversation was going.

“Sometimes it sneaks up on you, and you don’t even realize it is happening until you wake up one morning and realize that someone isn’t right for you.”

Lindy narrowed her eyes, suddenly having a sense of the problem. “Did Terry say something to you after you left Mom and Dad’s last night?”

Bridget smiled at Lindy sadly. “No. It would be easier if he did.”

“Bridget, I still don’t know what you are talking about.”

“I’m talking about love, and marriage, and spending the rest of your life with someone.”

“Are you and Terry having problems?” Lindy asked, thinking about the conversation she and Bridget had over the previous weekend, about how Terry wasn’t doing it for her in the bedroom.

“Yes and no. Terry’s not the problem. I am.”

“Is this about the sex, where he isn’t…isn’t satisfying you the bedroom?”

“No, not really.”

“Then what, Bridget?” Lindy asked, holding her hands out palms up in exasperation.

Bridget stared at her sister, Lindy’s annoyance written clearly on her face.
How can she understand if she has never been in love? How can she know what I’m feeling right now if she has never experienced it for herself?
Her breathing began to speed up as she fought against the tears again, knowing she wasn’t going to be able to stop them. She looked down, staring at her shoes, ashamed of what she had done, her tears falling to the floor.

“Bridget! Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m a bad person.”

“No you’re not!”

“I am. No matter what I do, someone is going to get hurt.”

“Who, Bridget? Who’s going to get hurt?”

“Terry or Stiles.”

“Stiles? Who’s Stiles?”

“Stiles McCoy. The guy who gave me the tattoo.”

Lindy blinked in confusion. She had recognized the name when Bridget said it but couldn’t remember where she heard it until she reminded her. “The tattoo artist? What has he got to do with you and Terry?”

“I’ve been sleeping with him.”

“
You what?
”
Lindy cried. “When?”

“It started about a year ago, before Terry proposed.”

Lindy relaxed a little.
So what’s the problem?
she wondered, but then she realized what Bridget had said.
Sleeping with him, not slept with him.
“Wait, are you still sleeping with him?”

“I have been.”

“But you’re not now?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?
You either are or you’re not.”

“It means I was, even as late as last week, while Terry was out of town.”

Lindy went cold.
How could she do this?
“But you’re not now?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice calm. Bridget said nothing as she continued to stare at the floor. “Bridget?”

“I haven’t been able to find him.”

“Who? Stiles?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Why? Why what?”

“Why are you looking for him? Is it to tell him it’s over?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I don’t want it to be over.”

“Jesus Christ, Bridget! What are you saying? You’re going to be married in less than a week and you’re still sleeping with another man, and you want it to continue?” Lindy almost shouted, Bridget’s words shocking her beyond her ability to think.

“You don’t understand!”

“You’re damn right I don’t understand! How can you do this to Terry? What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t, okay?” Bridget yelled before bursting into tears. She sobbed into her hands for a moment before looking up. “I didn’t mean for this to happen! It just did.”

Lindy looked at Bridget, trying to get her mind around what she had done. “Bridget, you need to find Stiles and break it off. Now.”

“It’s not that easy, Lindy! You—”

Lindy cut her off. “You don’t have any choice, Bridget! This is so messed up! What would Mom and Dad say? You need to end this right damn now and then shut the hell up and never breathe a word to anyone, ever. This will be our secret, okay?”

“It’s not that fucking easy!” Bridget raged. “I love him!”

That stopped Lindy cold. How could Bridget be in love with a man who is part of a club that murders people? “Who? Stiles?” she asked, making sure she understood who Bridget was talking about.

“Yes! Do you think I would be in this fucking mess if I didn’t care about him?”

“Does Terry know?”

“No, Terry doesn’t fucking know!”

Lindy stared at Bridget, not knowing what to say, trying to collect her thoughts. “Do you love Terry?”

“Yes! No. I don’t know anymore. I guess I still do, in a way. But not like Stiles.”

“This is fucked up, you know that?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what to do.”

“You have to break off the wedding! How—”

“
How?
”
Bridget shouted. “I can’t just walk up to Terry and tell him I’ve been fucking another man behind his back!”

“You have to do it, Bridget! You can’t marry him if you don’t love him! Can’t you see that?”

“I’ve tried. God knows I’ve tried. But I can’t. I’ve made such a mess of things, but I can’t bear the thought of telling him. He doesn’t deserve that.”

“No, he doesn’t. But he doesn’t deserve to be married to a woman who doesn’t love him either. That ends in one place: divorce. Which is crueler? What if you have kids? Do you want to do that to your kids?”

“It’s not that simple, Lindy. What would you do? Would you just break his heart like that?”

“I wouldn’t be in this fucking mess, but, yes, better to do it now, quick and clean, rather than punish him, or yourself, for years until you just can’t stand it anymore.”

Bridget stared at Lindy for a long time. “I don’t understand you. I thought you would tell me to cut it off with Stiles and marry Terry.”

“I was, but that was before you told me that you loved Stiles, or didn’t love Terry, or whatever the hell is going through your head. Do you even know yourself?”

Bridget offered Lindy a wan smile. “All I know is I want Stiles more than anything else in the world. But the thought of telling Terry and Mom and Dad…” she shuddered.