Chapter 10
EDDIE
“This is great! It’s the best work you’ve ever done.
” Gerald beamed at me. Someone had sprinkled red and green glitter on the bald spot on top of his head, and I thought maybe he didn’t know.
A few flecks sparkled in his graying red hair.
I tried to avoid looking at it so I wouldn’t laugh.
Christmas trees danced down his tie, which also happened to be tucked into his suit pants and peeking out of the top of his zipped fly.
These tiny details didn’t take away from the enormity of getting a compliment from my boss.
Tyler must be my good luck charm.
“Thank you.” I grinned at him and couldn’t have stopped if my life depended on it.
He tapped me with the red folder my piece of our project was tucked inside. “You look exhausted. Were you up all night fine-tuning this?” A concerned gleam entered his eyes, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop from snickering.
“Not all night, but you know, a good bit. It wasn’t a problem. I love the work I was doing.” I breathed deeply and held eye contact. Don’t laugh. Do not laugh.
Gerald patted my shoulder, exuding the vibe of a proud papa. “We’ve all been struggling since Zayn left. It’s time I bite the bullet and hire someone new.” He sniffled, and I thought he might actually be on the edge of tears. He’d really loved Zayn, but then again, who didn’t?
The idea of another set of hands around the office lifted a load off my shoulders I hadn’t realized had been making the muscles tense all along my spine. “That sounds great, sir.”
“Call me Gerald.” He tapped my shoulder with the folder before sauntering out of my office while flipping through the work I’d just finished.
I spun my desk chair around and practically kicked up my heels with glee. Things were finally solidifying here at work. Gerald popped his head back inside my office, and I abruptly used the edge of my desk to stop myself as embarrassment heated my face.
“Oh, and Eddison? Why don’t you take the rest of today off? You’ve earned it.”
“Thanks.” I was talking to air because he was already gone.
I checked my phone, but it wasn’t quite noon yet. Excitement bounced around my insides, more frantic than usual, thanks to the weird second wind that gripped me. I’d caffeinated to the point that I probably had blood in my coffee stream.
“What to do?” I unlocked my phone screen, then couldn’t help myself.
Before I knew it, I was staring at the picture of Tyler’s list again.
The longer I glared at the names, the more my blood boiled.
I had them memorized by now, but there was something meditative about brushing my finger over them in Tyler’s handwriting.
“Who are you, Aaron Newland? What awful crap did you do to my Tyler?” I shook my head. “Why don’t I look you up? That’s a great idea.” I wasn’t a violent man, but I itched with the desire to pound his face in.
Shrugging, I went to Insta. It didn’t take more than a few seconds to find Aaron Newland.
It turned out he owned a garage on the outskirts of the southside of New Gothenburg that customized cars, giving them massive, gas guzzling engines.
On the feed there were all kinds of crazy modifications, and next to each one was Newland’s smiling face.
He reminded me of frat boys. Preppy. Clean cut.
Perfect teeth. Boy-next-door dimples. He was spotless in every photo. Did he do any of the work himself?
“Let’s go make a new friend,” I mumbled, googling the address of his business.
After that, I bolted out of the office, avoiding anyone who looked like they had chitchat on the brain.
It took forever to get through the lunchtime traffic, especially with the freezing rain that was turning the road into an ice rink.
As I was driving, the rain became sleet interspersed with snow, which was doubly dangerous because now people who were just starting out their drive wouldn’t realize there were thousands of hidden ice patches on the road.
These were the types of days that put collision businesses in the black for the year.
Above my destination, a brilliantly lit sign with sweeping neon green letters proclaimed the location to be Make Mine a Double Deuce.
Snow danced around the name, sparkling despite the gray clouds puffing their gloomy bellies toward the ground.
The garage was so large it might’ve started life as an airplane hangar.
I was about to turn in to the parking lot, when a red Porsche came tearing out onto the road in front of me.
The shiny silver engine stuck out of the hood and roared like a mountain lion as the car took off into traffic.
I held my breath as the tail end wavered, then straightened out.
Was that Aaron Newland? I’d caught a flash of his profile, and it seemed to be the guy from the pictures I’d scrolled through.
Shrugging, I followed him. “It’s probably better to do this away from his work anyway.”
We drove out into the country, which was beautiful.
Snow-covered pine trees crowded close to our cars.
The road widened on our side. I was pretty sure I had a passing lane; although, the snow made that fact questionable.
My heart took up a permanent spot in my throat as I pulled up beside the Porsche and lowered the passenger window.
Cold air slapped my face. I shivered as the tires lost their grip a bit, making my stomach swoop during the few seconds it took for them to catch the road again. Thankfully, I stayed in my lane.
The man in the Porsche lowered his window and laughed, and my stomach dipped again. This was definitely Newland.
“Sexy car, right?” he called and patted the dash. “Weather’s too bad for a race, buddy.” He fired a wink at me, and my cheeks burned.
“I’m not here about the car,” I yelled back. This was ridiculous. Did people really do things like this to Newland regularly? Meeting Tyler had woken me up to the world, made me feel more alive than I ever had. And this insanity all took on a crisp edge. “Do you know Tyler Morrow?”
He grimaced and his window went up.
The Porsche shot ahead, but the car’s rear fishtailed, and he was forced to slow down. The road narrowed to a single lane on our side, and I drifted back farther from him, slowing down some. This was getting too dangerous.
“Perhaps I should go home. Yep, go home and kiss Tyler. God, how is this my life?” I shivered and grinned before raising the passenger window. Heat blasted from the vents and I leaned closer to them. “Yeah, this is nuts.”
The Porsche began to climb a steep hill, and I didn’t have much choice except to follow as I began to search for a turnaround. For some reason the Porsche sped up again. Newland’s car crested the hill first, and I gasped.
On our right, a brilliant blue train engine barreled toward the road, horn blaring. It was loaded down with cars that stretched away to the tree line and beyond. Even knowing how fast trains could go, it was moving faster than I would’ve expected.
The Porsche sped up even more, and Newland moved enough so that I could tell he was glancing into his rearview mirror—at me.
The red railroad crossing lights began to flash, or perhaps I’d just noticed them.
They were turning the fat snowflakes in front of the bulbs into fluffy pink cotton candy clouds.
I hit the brakes, and so did Newland in the Porsche.
“Fuck,” I whispered as the Porsche slid under the closing red-and-white barrier and bumped onto the tracks. My front end almost nudged the metal arm. My teeth vibrated at the impact of the train.
Time stood still for a handful of seconds. My soul left my body. “Fuuuck.”
The horrific squeal of rending metal hurt my ears and I slapped my hands to them.
The train kept going because thousands and thousands of pounds didn’t stop right away, even when the conductor was desperate for that to happen.
My grandfather had always told me to never try to beat a train.
I couldn’t imagine anyone dumb enough to try, so at the time, I’d just nodded along.
I’d been sixteen, a freshly minted driver.
This was worse than what he’d described.
The train was still hauling ass, not significantly slower than how it had started.
Sparks flew as the brakes grabbed the rails.
The Porsche was carried out of sight down the tracks or perhaps it had simply disintegrated.
Metal parts sprinkled the side of the tracks to my left, and they were already collecting snow.
Nature was happy to cover up any evidence of this disaster.
“Oh my God,” I whispered. “Oh shit. Holy fuck.”
The train was starting to slow a bit now.
“Should I stay or go? Go.” My brain wasn’t working yet. I couldn’t quite digest what I’d seen. No one was behind me, so I backed up and turned, heading for home. I flipped on the radio and Perry Como blasted my ears. His jaunty version of “Home for the Holidays” chased away the ghosts of the crash.
“Hey, my favorite!” A smile trembled on my lips when I glanced in the rearview mirror. The train hadn’t managed to stop yet, and then the horror didn’t matter because it was out of sight. I took a deep breath and drove directly for my house, where I knew Tyler was probably still snuggled in my bed.
When I pulled into the driveway, I almost passed out as I shut off the engine. Now that I was safe and sitting still in one place, my exhaustion caught up with me as the adrenaline of the crash drained away.
“That could’ve been me. We were both going too fast. Then what would Tyler do? He’d be mad if I died. Hell.” My brain was staticky and didn’t fully clear when I shook it.
I managed to get through the front door and sat down on the floor once I got it closed, luxuriating in the warm air. I peeled off my coat and suit jacket. It took a few seconds to notice that I was sitting in a puddle of melting snow from my own boots, but I couldn’t quite make myself move.
“Hello?” Tyler’s voice rang out from the direction of the kitchen, and I registered the smell of coffee and perhaps Pop-Tarts as I sat there taking deep breaths.
“Is that you, Eddie, or are there ghosts?” That joking tone wouldn’t have existed yesterday.
My heart warmed. I’d helped make that happen.
“Yeah, I’m the Ghost of Christmas Past,” I called.
A warm chuckle was my reward for pulling my head out of my ass and speaking.
“I would hope you were the Ghost of Christmas Present and Future. But you’re definitely not Scrooge.
Maybe you’re his nephew, with your house decorated for Christmas.
” He came into view and smiled down at me before going to a knee and popping off my boots.
I stupidly watched him with my hands in my lap. Couldn’t get enough of looking at him. God, it was good to still be alive.
“Fred. He was an all right guy. The analogy can only take us so far. Freddie had a wife,” I murmured.
He kissed me, and my brain woke up as I savored his warm, sweet lips. Yeah, he’d been in the Pop-Tart stash. Fake strawberries teased my tongue. I couldn’t stop my moan as a kaleidoscope of insanely sexy memories bombarded me. I hugged him tight, loving the way his lithe body fit against mine.
“We can be modern. Freddie can have a husband.” Tyler smirked as he sat back, and my heart squeezed. I fucking loved the sound of that.
“Did you slip?” He glanced around.
Shit. I was still on the floor.
“Are you home sick?” He tilted his head. “It’s early to be back from work, isn’t it?”
“Oh, uh, we only went into the office today because we were finishing up a project. My part was done.” Guilt slammed me out of nowhere. Newland died because I’d wanted to talk to him. Was he scared of me? What did he do to Tyler? Did he deserve to die today?
My gut twisted into knots.
“Hey.” Tyler put his hands on either side of my neck and frowned. His fingers were so warm they were fire dancing against my skin. “What’s wrong?” His bottom lip jutted.
My heart hiccuped. “I did something, and I’m worried if I tell you that you’ll think I’m some sort of psycho monster after last night.”
“What? I won’t.” He shook his head. “I promise.”
“Tyler, it’s fast, but . . . .” I held my breath. “I love you already. So, it will really suck if you’re scared of me after this.”
He sat back on his heels and rolled his eyes, but his smile took over his face. “How could you scare me?”
I pulled him in for a hard kiss, devouring his lips, then buried my face against his soft, warm neck, knocking him off-balance. He was a welcome anchor to reality.
“I killed Aaron Newland on my way home from work.”