Chapter 25
twenty-five
. . .
Jameson
I 'm just getting out of the shower when I hear someone out in the living room. "Rio." I pull on shorts and rush down the hallway. It's Zander, sitting on the couch with his work boots propped on the coffee table.
"Shit, that's twice. And just come on in, buddy. No need for the formality of knocking."
"I knocked. There was no answer, so I walked around to the deck. By the way, your sliding door is unlocked. Should be more careful. Any old asshole could just stroll in."
Zander is wearing one of our company shirts, reminding me that we're supposed to check a jobsite in Bassett this morning. He drops his feet, sits forward and rests his forearms on his thighs. "You going shirtless?"
"No, I just got out of the shower. And if I'm being honest, I forgot all about looking at the job. I've had a few things on my mind."
"This'll help you get them off your mind for a bit." Zander straightens and squints at me. "Why do you look so much better than yesterday? Did you hear good news about Rio?"
"Nope, that part of my life is still fucked up as ever."
"That part?" He rubs his chin exaggeratedly. "I'm trying to decipher that statement, and I'm starting to get some vibes here." He rubs his temples next. "You had sex last night."
I turn to get another cup of coffee.
"Aha, I guessed right. Who was it?" He's hovering behind me now like an annoying gnat.
"None of your business, nosy old hen. Do you want coffee?"
"Is it that cute blonde who practically tattooed her number on your forehead at the Gold Rush?"
"Don't know who you're talking about but sure, yeah, it was her. And we fucked like rabbits all night." For the moment, I'm keeping my relationship with Indi to myself. It's still too important, and, if I'm being frank with myself, too fragile to broadcast around town.
"All right so don't tell me. Whatever." Zander opens the fridge. "Where's the orange juice?"
"You guzzled it down the last time you were here, and since Rio's not—" My voice trails off. "I'll get my shirt, so we can go." My phone rings as I head into the bedroom. It's Rio.
"Rio? How's it going?"
A wet sniffle comes through the phone, and my heart drops right out of my chest and thuds on the floor. I hold the phone tighter against my ear as if that will help me get closer to her physically. "Rio, talk to me. What's wrong? Where are you?"
She sniffles again, and I'm ready to climb the fucking walls with angst. "I think I'd like to come home now, Daddy." She calls me Dad when she's with friends or wants to prove a point and seem older. She always adds on that second syllable when she's frightened or upset. The sound of it makes my entire body seize up with tension.
"Where are you, Rio? Where's your mom?"
"She's here." She sniffles again. "She's fine but I want to come home." Her repeatedly calling my place home is tugging at every damn heartstring.
"Who are you talking to?" Nicole's voice is sharp, angry.
"It's Daddy," Rio answers weakly.
All of a sudden, it's Nicole on the phone. I squeeze the phone so hard in my hand, I'm expecting to hear the screen crack. "Why are you calling her? We're fine. You need to leave me alone, or I'll consider this harassment. Might have to consider a restraining order."
"Fuck off. She called me, and she sounds upset. Why does she sound so upset? Where are you?"
"She's fine." She hangs up. I call right back, but it goes to voicemail. I pace the room for a second and seriously consider another hole in my wall, but it'll only rip open my arm again and then I'll have another fucking hole to patch.
I return to the living room.
Zander has helped himself to a cold piece of chicken from the fridge. "So, you're going shirtless?"
I glance down at my naked chest. "No. I just got a call from Rio. She sounded really upset, and she said she wanted to come home." My throat constricts around the words.
Zander tosses the chicken on the plate and claps. "Great. Let's go get the little squirt. Where is she?"
"If only it was that easy. And I don't know where she is. Nicole grabbed the phone and told me to leave her alone or she'd consider it harassment. She brought up a restraining order."
"Fuck that. You sure you don't want to get Dad involved? He's still got a lot of contacts who can help with this kind of thing."
I look at him. "What, you mean one of his gun-for-hire buddies? To take out Nicole? I might remind you that she's Rio's mom, and I'm fairly certain an assassination or a kidnapping plot would be a strike against me in court."
Zander shrugs. "I see your point. I'm just so pissed that Rio's out there, alone, when she needs to be here with us."
I sit down hard on the couch as if gravity is working extra hard today. "I've never felt so damn helpless, Zander. I don't know what to do."
"Yeah, this sucks. How is the case going? You said Charlie was on it."
"He suggested I find some evidence that Nicole is neglecting Rio. Stuff that proves she's a bad mom. Don't know how I'm going to get that evidence. And I don't know if she's necessarily a bad mom."
"Really? Three years ago, she dropped Rio off with you and never looked back. She didn't know if you could handle being a parent, but she didn't care."
"Yeah, who the fuck does that? You're right. And that'll be my first line of defense in the case." That moment of victory is short-lived. "Our family, we came together for that kid. Never seen Dad hug anyone or play hide and seek in his life. That all changed when Rio walked into our lives."
"He almost became—human," Zander says with a chuckle.
"But before that—our reputation—the shit Dad was doing while we grew up, that will come up in court. Nicole wasn't around long, back before Rio, but she knew about us, about Dad. People love to talk in this town, and our family has always been one of their favorite topics, even if they really didn't know shit about us."
"That's definitely going to work against us," Zander says. "But Charlie is a great lawyer. He'll get this to go in your favor. You'll see. In the meantime, pull on your shirt, and I'll buy you a breakfast burrito. Have you eaten? You look like you worked up an appetite overnight."
"Still not giving names," I say as I walk back to the room for the shirt. I stop once more to call Rio, and it goes to voicemail. "Hey, it's Dad. I'm coming for you soon, all right? Just hang on and stay safe. I'm coming for you, tiger. You'll be home soon." I hang up and drop down into a crouch to catch the breath that has left me. I allow myself a few seconds of quiet, hopeless despair, then I straighten. "You'll be home soon, kiddo," I mutter to myself.