LaClaire Groom (After Hours Book 4) Page 7

  Without reading through the menu properly, I close the document. I’m too exhausted after a long day full of massage clients and plagued by my thoughts of fear and guilt. Besides, I’ve also been avoiding Iris’s phone calls because she’d want to know whether I paid the invoices she’d sent.

  Feeling as though my body is made of concrete, I pull myself to my feet and move to the small window, gazing out into the night. My gaze stops on an apartment on the other side of the road. Through the window, I spy on a family of four sitting at their kitchen table enjoying dinner together.

  I’ve always wanted a proper family, with a husband who adores me and have lots of kids. Soon I’ll have the adoring husband and a beautiful daughter. It hurts to think that Lance and I can never have children of our own because there’s something else he doesn’t know about me—that I can’t have kids. I keep wondering if he’d feel differently about me if he knew, but that’s a risk I’m not willing to take. I will tell him. I’ll eventually tell him before the wedding, but right now I don’t have the courage.

  The mother in the other apartment throws her head back and laughs at something one of her children—or maybe husband—said. My lips respond with a smile. They look so happy, so free.

  I’ve never really known what true freedom feels like. I’ve tasted a slice of it here and there, but it never lingered long enough for me to enjoy it fully. Watching the family across the street makes me both hopeful and sad. It’s that sadness that forces me to turn away from the window, to crawl into my bed and pull my duvet over my head, wishing it could hide my lies and my betrayal. But nothing can ever do that. I’m afraid that no matter what I do, no matter what price I pay, sooner or later everything will still come out into the open.

  My phone rings and my stomach clenches immediately. I ignore the call and stay under the covers, buried in my shame. Once the ringing stops, I reach under the pillow for my phone. At the same time, the phone pings to announce an incoming message. As soon as I read the words, my breath catches in my throat.

  I’m still here. K.

  I fling the phone next to me on the bed and grab my hair on both sides of my head. A bubble of rage and frustration pushes itself up my throat and bursts through my mouth so loud it makes my ears ring. I scream until my throat is raw. I scream until my head is pounding. I scream because that’s the only thing I have the power to do.

  Another message comes in, and I find myself reading it as though I’m addicted to the torture.

  Check your email. K.

  Holding my breath, I touch the email account app on my phone. It doesn’t surprise me that Kirk has my email address.

  The only unrecognizable email sent five seconds ago, is from someone named Dean Smith.

  A little surprise for you. Open to see. K.

  The subject line sets off the alarm bells inside my head. I wish I didn’t have to open it. But if I don’t, how will I know how and when the next shoe will drop?

  I press my teeth tightly together and open the email. It’s empty of text. I almost close it, when I notice the attachment and open it, sick with nerves.

  “No. God, no,” I breathe when I see what he sent me.

  It’s a photo and not just any photo. It’s a photo that could change everything for me, that has the power to destroy everything I’ve built. A photo of Kirk and me in the doorway of the Room Motel. But it’s also more than that. Kirk has his arms around me and his lips on mine.

  I start to shake, feeling cold suddenly. The phone slips from my hand as anger boils like hot lava inside the pit of my stomach. The reason he’d called me to the motel was not only because he wanted me to bring him the money in person, but he also had an agenda. He’d planned to have someone take that photo, one more thing to blackmail me with. Even worse, anyone who sees the photo will never know that the reason I have my palms on his chest is because I’m preparing to shove him away. They will never know that moments after our lips parted, I slapped him across the face. All they will see is me kissing a man that’s not Lance. No wonder Kirk didn’t bother to write anything in the email. The photo tells me everything I need to know.

  My hand flies to my mouth. What have I done? What will I do now?

  Kirk sends another message, and I read it as though hypnotized.

  The press would pay good money for that shot. But for $50,000, I can destroy it. K.

  I may have been a fool up to this moment, and I may have made the wrong decisions since I saw him the first time, but there’s no way I’ll believe him again. Even if I did, there’s no way I can get fifty thousand dollars to give to him. I guess I have to resign myself to the fact that he won, and I’m done.

  Sitting up in bed, I wrap my arms around my legs, rocking back and forth with my eyes closed. My heart aches for a good cry, but even my tears betray me as they refuse to come. Keeping a lie is so exhausting. I’m tired of running. I’m tired of hiding. I want to live my life. I want Kirk gone so I can breathe again.

  As though in answer, a sudden thought sneaks into my mind. I grab my phone again. There might be a way to get him out of my life after all. I might still have a chance if I play my cards right.

  I grab my laptop again and go online. I type Kirk’s full name in the search engine, and dozens of articles pop up immediately.

  All the results on the page confirm the suspicions I’d had all along.

  Kirk Dillon, a convicted murderer, has escaped from a New York prison.

  I don’t need to click on the links to find out more. I have all the answers I need. Kirk is trying to rob me of my freedom when he’s not even supposed to be walking free. I know what I have to do.

  I return to his text message and type up a reply.

  Fine. I’ll give you the money. I need a few days. Jia

  After hitting send, I call Lance to say goodnight. Rose is already asleep, so I don’t get to speak to her. When he tells me he loves me at the end of our call, my tears finally come, but I hang up before he hears me crying.

  Before I fall asleep, I wipe away the tears and force myself to believe that everything will be fine.

  As soon as my alarm rings at 6 a.m., I’ve come up with a concrete plan of what I’ll do to get Kirk out of my life. I jump out of bed and put on my workout clothes and sneakers. I leave the apartment without even having breakfast. I need a dose of energy and confidence. Hopefully, running will give that to me.

  After a twenty-minute run, I decide I need to carry out my plan before my fears take over. Instead of heading to a nearby park, I run in the direction of the main road, where I hail a cab. The time it would take for me to go back home to get my car feels like time wasted. I have to stop Kirk right now. It’s a good thing I always bring some money with me when I go jogging, in case I decide to stop by the store.

  I give the cab driver a random address in the center of town. As soon as I get out of the cab, begging the driver to wait for me, I go on the search for a pay phone, which I find within five minutes. I get inside the little booth. I’m out of breath from the adrenaline rushing through my veins.

  I pick up the phone and press it to my ear, then wait a moment to catch my breath. There’s no way I’d be able to hear a thing through the pounding in my ears. As soon as my heart calms down, I dial the number I memorized last night.

  A police officer picks up and asks how he may help me.

  My grip tightens around the phone. “I have some news on Kirk Dillon. I know where he’s hiding.” Without giving the man on the other end a chance to respond, I quickly give him the address of the Room Motel, the phone number Kirk has been using to call me, and the name he used to send me an email.

  I have no idea whether Kirk is still at the same motel, but I’m pretty sure that as long as he’s in Boston, the cops will find a way to get to him.

  “May I have your name, please?” the officer asks.

  “I’m sorry. I prefer not to. I’m just a concerned citizen,” I say and hang up. The last thing I need right now is for them to show
up on my doorstep.

  My heart is pounding hard as I return to the cab and give the driver the address of Lance’s villa.

  Eva opens the door with a smile that falls away when she sees me. “Miss Jia, are you okay?”

  With the back of my hand, I wipe the sweat off my face. “Yes, Eva. I’m fine. Is Mr. Lance in?” I close the door behind me.

  “Yes. He’s been inside the studio since he woke up.”

  “Thank you.” I leave her standing in the entrance hall and head upstairs to find Lance. I’m surprised to not find him painting. Instead, he’s sitting on the couch, staring into space.

  When he sees me walk through the door, his brows draw together. For a moment he doesn’t say anything—just stares at me.

  He’s making me uncomfortable. What if I’m too late? What if Kirk already got to him?

  “Hey,” I say cautiously. “Are you okay?” I kiss him on the lips.

  “Yeah.” He struggles to stand, but I don’t offer him help as he doesn’t like to be seen as weak. “I didn’t expect to see you today.” His gaze takes in my workout clothes.

  “I wasn’t planning on coming.” I pause. “I went for a jog and decided to come here.”

  “Don’t tell me you jogged all the way here.”

  “No.” I laugh. “I took a cab.”

  He sits back on the couch, pulling me down with him. He kisses my neck. “I’m glad you came over. I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.” I lift his hand to my lips and kiss it.

  “What made you change your mind about coming over? You said you’re quite busy this week.”

  “I am, but I couldn’t wait to see you. I wanted to ask if you’d like to go away for a few days. You, me, and Rose.” Lance always insists on paying for every trip we take, so I don’t have to worry about the money.

  “How about work? And the wedding planning?”

  “I’m sure Grace won’t mind me taking a few days off, and Iris has everything under control. Besides, I’ll only be a phone call or email away.”

  “You know what? I’d really love that.” Lance puts an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. “It’s been a while since we went away together. What destination do you have in mind?”

  “I was thinking maybe a seven-day Bermuda cruise on one of your brother’s ships. But I need to talk to Grace first, of course.”

  There are two reasons why I want to go away with Lance. First, I want us to be as far away as possible in case the cops find out it was me that called about Kirk. I don’t want to be here for questioning. Also, if Kirk finds out I called the cops, he might do something to hurt me or the people I love.

  “That’s a fantastic idea.” His face breaks into a grin. “Let me know once you have the okay from Grace, and I’ll talk to Bryant.” He scratches his chin. “But isn’t seven days too long? We’re getting married in three weeks.”

  I lean my head against him. “Well, I was also thinking—”

  “You’re always thinking.” He kisses my cheek. “What’s on your mind?”

  I giggle. “I was thinking that we should postpone the wedding.”

  “What?” He pulls away. “Why would you want to do that?”

  I shrug. “I feel like we’re rushing through this wedding planning. I want to enjoy the process. Right now, it all feels like work.”

  Lance is quiet. His eyes search my face. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

  “What else could it be?” I’m about to slide my gaze from his but force myself not to be the first one to look away.

  The only reason I want to postpone the wedding is so I can find a way to replace the money I stole from the wedding fund. I still have no idea how I’ll do that, but I’ll find a way.

  Lance breaks the eye contact. “Any suggestions for a new date?”

  “We could wait another three months.”

  “Three months?” He drags a hand down his face.

  “Honey, I need more time to make sure everything is perfect. Three months would be a big help.”

  “Are you sure that’s what you really want?”

  “Yes.” I pause. “But you have to want it, too. It’s our wedding.”

  “I don’t care when I marry you.” Lance buries his fingers into my hair and pulls me closer. “As long as I end up your husband. Whatever you want is fine with me.”

  “Thanks, baby.” I lean in for a kiss.

  Before I leave Lance’s place, I take a shower and get changed. Great thing I keep some clothes at his place. When I’m about to call a cab, Lance takes the phone from me and hands me the keys to his car.

  As soon as I step into my apartment, my cell phone—that I’d left on the unmade bed—rings.

  It’s Iris. I’d like to ignore her call yet again, but I can’t hide from her forever. I blow out a breath and answer.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Jia. I’m not sure whether you got my emails.”

  “Emails?” I rub my temple. I know exactly what she’s talking about.

  “I forwarded you some invoices from vendors that need to be paid before the wedding.”

  “Oh, sorry, I didn’t have time to have a look at them. I’ve been so busy lately.” I pause. “And Lance and I are going away for a few days.”

  “That’s romantic.” She pauses. “Do you think you could make the payments before you leave for your trip?”

  “Actually, there have been some changes.”

  “To the wedding?”

  “Yes, we’re postponing it. We’re giving ourselves three more months.”

  “You want a winter wedding?”

  “Yes. There are too many things going on right now. We need more time.”

  “Okay. It shouldn’t be a problem to change things around.” I can hear her typing on the other end. “We might lose some of the vendors, though. But that shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll find others. But unfortunately, we might still have to pay some of the already issued invoices. We could be faced with some cancellation fees, as well.”

  Crap.

  11

  Lance

  Bryant ends his call and leans back. “I’m glad you’re painting again.”

  I don’t answer immediately as I swipe the brush across the canvas. There’s nothing like seeing a painting come to life in front of your eyes.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “What are you painting anyway?”

  “None of your business.” I position my easel in such a way that he doesn’t get to see.

  “I bet it’s a naked painting of Jia.” He clears his throat. “How are things, by the way? I still don’t get why you guys are postponing the wedding.”

  “We need more time to plan. I don’t like seeing her all stressed out.”

  “I kind of get it. I’m so glad ours was low-key. Why don’t you just elope?”

  “If it were up to me, that’s exactly what I’d do.” I toss the brush into a bucket of water and reach for a rag to wipe my hands. “But what my lady wants, she gets.”

  “Look at you. I never knew you were a romantic.”

  I walk away from the painting to join Bryant on the couch. “She’s everything, man. She was there for me when I went through hell.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. She’s certainly good for you.” Bryant picks up his glass of water and takes a swig.

  “And she’s damn hot.” I tip my head to the side. “So is Grace.”

  “Hey, careful. Don’t talk about my wife in that manner.” Bryant nudges me in the ribs. “But I know what you mean.”

  We both laugh.

  My relationship with Bryant has been through a lot of shit in the past. We’ve come a long way. A few years ago, we couldn’t sit in a room together without wanting to strangle each other.

  A knock on the door disrupts our conversation.

  “Mr. Lance,” Eva says from the doorway, “there’s someone here to see you.”

  “Who is it? I’m not expecting anyone today.”

  “It’s the
wedding planner.”

  I scratch my head and glance at Bryant, confused. “What does Iris want with me? She always calls Jia when she has questions.”

  “I did advise you to elope,” Bryant says under his breath as he picks up his phone.

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  “Tell her I’ll be right down, Eva.”

  “Yes, Mr. Lance.” Eva nods and closes the door.

  “It’s hilarious how she calls you Mr. Lance.” Bryant laughs, gazing at his phone.

  “It’s better than Mr. LaClaire, I guess.” With the help of the cane, I push myself to my feet. “I’ll be back.”

  I find Iris standing by the French windows looking out into the garden. When she hears me come in, she turns around. She’s holding a cup of coffee in her hands. Jia mentioned that she’s only in her late twenties, but the woman wears so much makeup it makes her look much older.

  “You have a beautiful garden,” she says, coming to shake my hand.

  “Thank you.” I squeeze her hand. “A great garden is only as good as the gardener, and mine happens to be the best.”

  “I’m sure he is.” Iris’s smile makes her look instantly younger.

  “Please have a seat, Iris.”

  After we’re both seated, I turn to her. “What brings you here?”

  “I apologize for showing up unannounced.” She peels her china blue gaze from mine. “I was in the area, and I thought I’d stop by to see if you’re home.”

  “That’s not a problem. You’re welcome here anytime. You’re planning our wedding.”

  “I appreciate that.” She places her purse on her lap. “Mr. LaClaire, I’m here because I was unable to reach Jia. I’ve been trying to call her the past two days, but she’s not answering. She’s also not returning my calls or emails.”

  “Is it about something urgent? She’s been quite busy with work lately.”

  “Yes. She did mention that she has a lot to do and that you are going away for a few days as well.”

  “Yes, we are. We’re leaving for a short cruise tomorrow.”

  “That sounds romantic.” She crosses her legs. “But unfortunately, there are some vendors that need to be paid. I promised them they’d get their payment days ago.”