Holding You Close

Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

NOAH

I've only been home for twenty-four hours, but it already feels like a lifetime because I can’t do much. The doctors stressed that I needed to take it easy, and Dad said he’d make sure I did. Now that he’s retired, I’m positive he will. The ride home from the hospital was absolute t*****e because I felt every bump and pothole. It took a while for me to make it upstairs and get settled in bed, and I’ve been in here ever since. For most of the afternoon, I’ve been in and out of sleep, but I called my parole officer and let him know what happened. He was gracious enough to reschedule our meeting as long as I called and checked in with him regularly. When Katie got off work, she brought Owen to visit, and I assured him I was fine.

This morning, I woke up with aches in muscles I didn't even know existed. Getting comfortable enough to fall asleep was nearly impossible, but the pain meds helped, even if they don't last long. Doing basic tasks like showering or brushing my teeth seems to take every bit of strength I have, but I manage. The last thing I want to do is ask my dad for help regardless of how many times he's offered. I think this accident shook him up as much as it did Katie and Gemma.

After I'm ready, I go downstairs and attempt to make myself something to eat but settle for toast. I slap some butter and jelly on it, then go to the living room and sit on the couch. Though I turn on the TV, I'm not listening because I'm too lost in my thoughts.

I know what I heard at the hospital, and I'm positive Brittany was there with a man. The only thing I haven't figured out yet is her motive to kill me. Hearing that she's responsible for breaking the window at the gym and the pipe bomb that was thrown through my dad's window makes me f*****g sick. All this time, she's probably been busy trying to impress me to make it easier to take me out. Too many scenarios float through my mind as my cell phone rings.

I don't recognize the number, but I answer it anyway.

“Noah Reid?” a man with a deep voice asks.

“Who’s speaking?” There’s no way in hell I'm admitting this is my number when I'm on someone's hit list.

“It’s Detective Sanderson. I've been reviewing your case and wanted to touch base with you. Heard you were released and are at home, so that's good news.”

I let out a relieved breath. After I was awake, the detective asked me to explain my side of the story. The meds have put me in a brain fog, and it slipped my mind that he’d call. “Yeah, thanks. Happy to be home and resting. Did you find out anything new?”

“Not exactly. I did some digging on the F-350 that hit you and contacted the registered owner. Apparently, he sold the truck a week ago to a guy who paid cash. The title hadn’t been transferred yet. While the guy fully cooperated and gave me a copy of the bill of sale, the name and address the buyer listed was fake.”

“Damn.” I huff, remembering what I heard Brittany and that guy say. I knew it was going to be a dead end.

“This happens a lot, actually. You'll see people buy vehicles, then not file the paperwork to transfer because they can’t afford it, forget, or have warrants. I can't tell you how many accidents I've seen like this where the driver fled because of an invalid license on top of drinking and driving. They'll do anything to avoid a DWI or being arrested,” he explains. “Considering the speed at which you were hit, the guy would almost have to be drunk to walk away from a crash like that. I contacted all the surrounding hospitals in a one-hundred-mile radius, and no one checked in with injuries that could’ve resulted from that crash. Unfortunately, the truck wasn't insured either.”

Unless the person driving was a professional who has experience crashing vehicles. But I keep that to myself until I have substantial evidence. The last thing I want is for Detective Sanderson to think I’m paranoid. “So where do we go from here?” I ask.

“We're keeping watch for anything out of the ordinary with this case, but since there weren't any witnesses, it's unlikely we'll find out who's responsible unless they come forward. Wouldn't hold my breath on that one, though. If someone thinks they can get away with something like this, people will typically stay silent and pretend it didn't happen. I'm finalizing the report so you can turn it into your insurance company and start the claims process. Sorry I didn't call you with better news,” he tells me.

“It's fine. I appreciate your time, Detective.”

“No problem. You hear anything at all, let me know,” he says right before we end the call.

I set my phone on the couch and lean my head against the cushion. It's not comfortable, but no position in my current state is. I’m pissed off and frustrated that I'm so banged up and bruised. I reposition myself and lie on my side until my dad comes back from eating breakfast with Belinda.

A few hours later, Gemma and Tyler come over for lunch and bring pizza. I take the opportunity to tell them what Detective Sanderson said.

Disappointment covers Gemma's face.

“It's okay, Noah. I had full coverage on the truck,” Dad says. “We can get it replaced.”

“Thanks, Dad, but it’s not about that,” I tell him.

“Karma needs to work her magic,” Gemma says matter-of-factly.

Tyler quietly listens as we continue. When there's finally a break in the convo, he speaks up. “What do you think about this?”

I glance at him. “I think it was done with intention.”

All eyes are on me.

“Think about it. The gym. The bomb. Murderer being painted on my truck. This accident. After all of that, I don't think any of it's coincidental.”

Tyler nods as though he understands. It's not an assumption, though. It's my reality, even if it's a harsh one.

Silence lingers, then Dad speaks up and changes the subject. “Can't believe the grand opening is in six weeks. It'll be here before we know it.”

“I know, I'm so excited,” Gemma exclaims. “There's just so much to do still.”

With a grin, Tyler grabs her hand. “We'll get it done.”

Immediately, my old friend guilt returns, and Gemma notices.

“What's wrong?” she asks, studying me.

I let out a breath. “I'm upset I won't be able to help you guys, knowing the opening is soon. Every day I'm not there puts you further behind. It's frustrating as hell that things keep happening to me that are affecting everyone in my life,” I admit.

“Noah, it's fine. You taking two weeks off won't hinder us that much. When you're better, we'll have the rest of the back-ordered equipment in, so there will be plenty to do.”

“Two weeks?” I scoff. “I won't need that long. Probably just a week to recover.”

“You gotta stop doing that,” Gemma snaps. “You have to listen to the doctors. If they said two weeks, it's for a reason.”

I roll my eyes, but I know her concern comes from a place of love. “We'll see. Once my muscles no longer ache and I can walk better, I'll be there. Don't want to put anyone in a bind.”

I snag another slice of pizza as Dad mentions the weather. “Supposed to be warm this weekend.”

Tyler laughs. “Eighty degrees. Not looking forward to summer if that's the temperatures we're getting in the spring.”

“No s**t,” I say. “Summer’s probably gonna be brutal.”

“Don't put that into the universe. I've heard how horrible being pregnant in the summer is. And I'll be huge at that point.” Gemma groans, and it makes me laugh.

After we're done eating, Dad cleans up, and we say our goodbyes. Once Gemma and Tyler are gone, Dad lets me know he's going to take a nap.

“If you need anything, you holler, alright?”

“Okay, thank you,” I say, knowing damn well I won't ask for help.

I take another pain pill, then slowly make my way upstairs. Once I'm in my room, I climb into bed and spend the rest of the afternoon trying to get comfortable while watching TV. All I can think about is seeing Katie later when she gets off work.

A couple of hours pass, and soon, my door is being swung open. Katie immediately rushes toward me with a plastic bag in her hand. She sets it on my nightstand, then nearly topples me. I wince when I feel her weight against my body, and she apologizes, but it doesn't stop me from holding her close. I paint my lips across hers, wanting more of her.

“God, I've missed you,” I admit when she repositions herself and snuggles next to me.

“Missed you too. How was your day?” She studies my face, trying to read me.

“Better now that you're here,” I say, stealing another kiss. “Did Owen come with you?”

“Yeah, he's downstairs with your dad. Wanted to be alone with you for a few minutes because I can’t stay long.” She grins.

My eyebrows raise. “I'm gonna need more than a few minutes,” I add with an eyebrow waggle, and she smacks me.

“I wish,” she says, l*****g her lips. “Thought we'd talk about what's going on and what I've found out so far.”

I sit up a little straighter, ready to listen, but before she starts, I rehash what Detective Sanderson said.

Shaking her head, she lets out a huff. “That's bullshit.”

“I know, and it has me more convinced it was premeditated.”

She sucks in a deep breath, then goes into detail about what happened the night of the accident. Then tells me about Brittany’s SUV being at the deli, the rental car, and how she showed up to work the next day.

“Honestly, she never mentioned what she was driving,” I explain. “I just assumed, but that's an important piece of information to give someone if you’re stranded.”

“Unless she never intended for you to meet her,” Katie mutters. “And it was just a ploy to get you out of town.”

I nod. “At the hospital, I had asked you if she was there because I heard her in my room talking to another man. She listed all the things she had paid him to do and was adamant about wanting me dead. Even threatened that he'd better not fail the next time.”

Katie's eyes are wide, and she nervously chews on her bottom lip. “I'm convinced Loretta has something to do with this. She took twenty thousand out of the bank the same day of the accident. She was nervous and fidgety about the situation, too, and told me she would take care of it. I know what you heard, but I feel like Brittany's the middleman, and Loretta is really calling all the shots.”

I try to take this all into account. “That's a lot of f*****g money to be withdrawing at one time.”

“Exactly. Especially in cash because it's not traceable. I don't know what happened to that money unless she delivered it to Brittany to help take care of a problem she was having,” Katie says. “Plus, the way Brittany's always acted around you. The fact that she guilted you into exchanging numbers and has been pushy about you hanging out with her son is odd. I wonder a lot about her motive, especially if she wants you dead. You going directly to her would just make her job easier.”

I let out a deep exhale. “If I can give hard evidence that this was planned, then we have a fighting chance. Right now, it's our word against theirs. I know my aunt, and she won’t go down without a fight.”

“I know. Also, I looked inside Brittany’s SUV at the deli and saw a can of red spray paint on her floorboard. While it's not concrete evidence, it's a link. Honestly, though, I can't seem to shake the way Loretta was acting at the bank. It was awkward.”

I grab her hand and kiss her knuckles. “We're going to get through this, Katie. I promise.”

“We will as long as you stay safe. There have been too many close calls, and I'm worried that something terrible will happen. I love you so much, and I can't lose you again,” she says.

Pulling her close, I can tell she's worried as hell as I slide my lips against hers. “I love you too. I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. I promise.”

When we break apart, I smile. “They're too stupid to pull this off. Look how many mistakes they've already made. It’s like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum are trying to scare me. We just have to ensure you and Owen stay safe, and I don't let my guard down. Justice will be served; I can guarantee you that. With all the attention on what happened and what's been happening, I imagine they’ll lie low for a while to figure out their next move.”

“You're right. A lot of people were talking about the accident today, and news has traveled fast. Oh, I got you shepherd's pie,” she says, changing the subject.

“Really? I haven't had that in forever.”

She grins. “I know. It’s Belinda's famous recipe too.”

As if my stomach understands, it growls. Katie checks the time and sighs. “I should get Owen home. He has homework, then needs to eat dinner and take a bath.”

“Okay, thank you,” I say. “You're too good to me.”

“Just wait and see how good I am to you when you're better,” she teases with a wink.

“Damn,” I say, adjusting myself. “Hopefully, I recover sooner than later.”