Chapter 2
EDDISON “EDDIE” WHEELWRIGHT
“What are you doing here? Oh, probably going to get punched in the face. No worries. You deserve it.” I tugged at the sleeves of my dark gray suit jacket.
I should’ve worn a coat because it was darned close to freezing, but it had taken a few minutes for the cold to seep in and I hadn’t.
Saturday morning meetings were my least favorite type of meeting, but at least I’d turned in my report and gotten a metaphorical pat on the head from Gerald, my boss.
Now I had all day to take care of important things, such as getting punched in the face, because I was awake and dressed.
I shivered and took a determined step forward. I was going to talk to Tyler again and fix things. I was going to figure out what—
My heel slipped. My arms pinwheeled, and I fell hard on my ass.
“Shit.” I clonked my head lightly back onto the cold sidewalk. The gray sky above seemed to be mocking me as it spit a few spiteful snowflakes down onto my face.
“Ouch. What was that for?” I asked, but the universe declined to answer. “Yeah, you’re right. The complete jackass who ran out and left Tyler with my psycho dad should fall on his ass.”
“Are you okay?” An older man in winter jogging gear ran in place at my side while a concerned frown took over his face. Other people—men twice my age—could fucking run in this weather, and I couldn’t walk. That was just great.
A self-deprecating laugh snuck out of me. “Thanks. I’m good.” I forced myself to my feet, and he waved before he took off.
I stared up at the time-worn building in front of me. The exterior was that weird stucco-type stuff that was bland beige and popular a million years ago. This wasn’t the best neighborhood but wasn’t terrible, either.
I’d followed Tyler home yesterday.
Like a coward, I didn’t have the guts to say anything to him.
I took a fortifying breath of freezing air.
Yesterday, I’d gotten into a ton of trouble for being late to a meeting.
We were all scrambling at the office to pick up the slack from Zayn, since he’d moved to St. Loren.
The man had been doing the job of about five people, somehow, and we were all struggling.
Everything was going to suck forever at the office. Every single—
“Enough stalling.” I counted down under my breath from five.
“Go!” I muttered, then started toward the glass door that made up the entrance.
Hustling inside, I took the cement stairs to the left.
Tyler was on the fifth floor, and I didn’t slow down, just powered onward.
I didn’t want to wuss out. As I neared the landing to Tyler’s floor, I heard raised voices and started to run because I was sure one of those was Tyler.
“I understand, but I’m trying to find a job.
Could you work with me?” The desperation in Tyler’s tone was almost as much of a gut punch as rounding the corner and seeing his half-closed right eye again.
He didn’t deserve that. His shiny blond hair was longer than he used to wear it, almost brushing his shoulders, but I liked the look on him.
I was already scared of my father—which was why I’d left the state for a while—but what had possessed him to do something so unhinged?
Dad had always been vicious, but this was an all-time low.
And what lies did Dad tell to get out of trouble? Big ones, I’m sure. Huge ones. Ones the size of a Mack truck.
Tyler ignored me, which was fair.
Poor Tyler. My heart felt like it might pop as I held my breath. He’d been such a good friend, and I’d run out. Literally packed my bags and got on a plane when it was still dark and so early in the morning farmers weren’t up yet, then didn’t come back to the city for years.
Five years.
A short man with big blue eyes and blond curls pouted at Tyler, a sad frown twisting down his mouth.
“Sorry, but if I can’t make rent, we’re both getting an eviction notice.
My buddy Dylan can pay today.” He tossed two bags out the door at Tyler’s feet.
“Sorry again.” He handed Tyler an old red ski coat with a sewn-up tear in the side.
Whoever had fixed it had used purple thread.
“I get it.” Tears clogged Tyler’s voice as he dragged on the coat, and my heart couldn’t take it anymore.
“What’s going on?”
Tyler whipped toward me and that’s when I realized how useless his right eye was now. I’d managed to walk up completely in his blind spot. He wasn’t ignoring me. He couldn’t see me.
“Oh, hell.” Bile crawled up my throat. What did Dad do? What did I do, leaving Tyler to deal with the maniac?
Fury sparked in his other eye, a rich brown that struck me as beautiful. I’d remembered a lot of things about Tyler, but age had turned him into the type of man who could make me tongue-tied.
“How did you find me?” he snarled, zipping up his coat with such force I worried he might punch himself in the face by accident.
He still had the same apple cheek on his left side.
He looked thinner, though. I’d been so surprised yesterday that I hadn’t really taken a good look at him.
My memories had overshadowed the man in front of me.
The door slammed shut, and Tyler cursed as he hefted the duffel bag and book bag from the floor to sling them over his shoulders.
He started walking and shoved past me. Oh, he was still a couple of inches shorter than me.
The discovery sparked something happy in my gut.
His warmth was a welcome distraction from the conversation, and I cleared my throat as I stumbled down the stairs in his wake, grabbing the railing to stop from tumbling after him.
“Where are you going? To look for a job? Of course you are. I feel terrible. Perhaps I could help.”
He snorted as he hurried down the stairs, then shoved outside. I slipped the second my foot hit the icy sidewalk, and he grabbed my shoulder with a sigh, keeping me upright. A flicker of his old smile snuck across his face.
My breath caught when he tightened his grip. Was there a chance he might not hate me forever?
“Thanks,” I said with a grin.
He rolled his eyes, then marched on.
“Where are you going?” I rushed to his side again. “Do you know? You don’t, do you?” I waved a hand in front of him, and he slapped it down.
“Away,” he snapped.
“From what?”
“You.”
“That’s going to be difficult, since I’m walking with you.” I dodged around a man with a cane and banged my knee on a metal garbage can. Tyler didn’t slow at all, and I darted back to his side once more. “Why are we walking so fast?”
“Because they only stay open as long as they have boxes.” He scowled in my direction.
“That’s cryptic.” I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. “Boxes of what? I could carry the box.”
He sighed and his shoulders slumped, but he didn’t slow down until he stopped in front of an old brick building. The top two stories were likely apartments, but the bottom had a big sign above the double glass doors that read “Harvest Home Food Bank.” My stomach flipped as he went inside.
Why did Tyler need to visit a food bank?
A pretty woman who was younger than me smiled at him from behind a wide counter, the type of thing you’d see at a real bank, only there was no glass separating her from the public.
“How are you, Tyler?” she asked. She pulled down on a purple beanie as she talked. She was wearing gloves, too. They must not waste a dime on heating the place. Her button nose was pink.
“Fine, Opal. Can I still get a box?” The old Tyler would’ve been all smiles. This one barely made eye contact. My stomach hit my toes and kept on going toward the center of the earth. This wasn’t the same guy I’d left behind when I’d escaped to college.
She nodded. “I’m not supposed to, but I always set one aside for you.” She slid a clipboard toward him, and he signed his name.
“They know you here?” I whispered, feeling deeply uncomfortable.
He glared at me out of the corner of his good eye. “They do.”
I felt ready to puke up my breakfast as I rubbed my abs. How long had Tyler needed to come to a place like this? Shit.
The woman handed a large box over to Tyler with a bit of difficulty, and I couldn’t help but peek inside. The top was piled with bread and pastries from a local bakery. I raised my eyebrows at him.
He shook his head. “After two days, they send stuff here. Sometimes it’s stale, but it’s always fine.”
“How long have you needed to get food here?”
He stomped to the door and turned around to shove it open with his back, glaring when I tried to get close enough to help. The opportunity to make this right slipped through my fingers as the seconds ticked by, but I had no idea how to fix this.
“Where will you go? It’s cold outside. Didn’t I just hear you getting kicked out of your place?
” My heart started to race and sweat broke out on my forehead.
What was I going to do? Follow him around all day?
That would probably make him even less likely to talk to me.
I didn’t want to annoy him. I wanted to help him.
There was no way to take back what Dad did, but perhaps I could make up for not taking him with me when I’d left.
“What do you care?” He scrunched up his nose, and my heart jerked because I remembered how his face used to look when he did that. It was a hell of a lot different.
“Tyler, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d been hurt.
” I rested my hand on his arm, but he tugged away and stalked along the sidewalk.
The sun came out and stung my eyes as it flashed through the snow.
“We were at different places in our lives when I left, and when I got back from California, I was dealing with my uncle’s estate.
Which was a lot. And weird. I thought you were just out living your life.
Dad only said your mom divorced him. That’s it. Nothing else.”
“I’m done with you. Fuck off.” Tyler barreled along.
I dragged the list he’d dropped out of my pocket, panic taking over because I had no idea how to turn this conversation around and get him to accept my help.
I couldn’t let things go, but I also couldn’t force him to welcome me into his life.
“What’s this? My father is on it?” I waved the paper around like a white flag of truce, only he seemed to see red instead.
“I’m on it. Why am I on it? You dropped it yesterday. ”
He bared his teeth and glared but didn’t answer or stop.
“You dropped it, right? I know you did. I saw you do it.”
His jaw tightened. Still nothing.
I pulled out a pen and turned the paper over. I wrote my address and phone number sloppily on the back and stuck it down into his box. I lost my pen, too, but I had bigger fish to fry.
“What the fuck is that?” he asked, jerking away from me.
I wasn’t paying much attention to anything else and slipped again. My goddamned dress shoes weren’t made for winter weather. This time I went down hard on my right hip. I would have matching bruises on my ass. The pain stole my breath.
“It’s my info,” I called after his receding back. “I bought the place with money Uncle Chad left me. I’m the only one there. Don’t stay out in the cold to spite me. Come to my house and yell at me there instead! I know you want to!”
Spine stiff, he kept going.
“Ouch,” I grumbled, but I wasn’t talking about my aching butt.
I pulled out my phone and studied the photo I’d taken of the list while the cold and slush soaked through my clothes.
I deserved to be miserable right now. God knew Tyler was.
How long had he been feeling that way? Probably a good while before he left Dad’s house of horrors.
And probably every day since, judging by everything I’d seen yesterday and today.
Tears welled up in my eyes and stung as they slid down my face and rolled over the scratches from the rose bush yesterday.
The people on the list were strangers, other than Dad, and I avoided him at all costs. Who were these other people? How did they know Tyler? Why was I on the list? And the million-dollar question: Why on earth would he carry their names around in his pocket?
He didn’t like Dad, I knew that.
This was bizarre.
I could start with the first name and work my way down. If Tyler wouldn’t talk to me, perhaps these guys could give me some insight into how to break through to him.
“Where are you, Mike?” I googled the name and came up with Shanahan Brothers Pawnshop, owned by a man named Jim Shanahan. Apparently, Mike was Jim’s brother and helped him run the business. My day was finally looking up.
I groaned as I got to my feet. I’d spent years agonizing over how I’d run out on Tyler, and I would help him, even if it killed me. That was the least I could do.