Chapter 29
Matt
" T his was a really bad idea." Ryan wheeled out of the entrance to the Women's Shelter.
"Oh no, you don't!" I grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him right back around, patting his back and going inside. "This is the difference between a life with Lily and a life without."
"As if there's a life with Lily, either way. We killed someone." Ryan lowered his voice and looked around.
"Yeah. We don't have to keep mentioning it." I pushed him forward.
"How can I not? What else am I supposed to talk about inside there? It's the only thing on my mind. I'm telling you, going in there is a bad idea. We're going to walk out in handcuffs." Ryan held his chest and tried to breathe.
"No, we're not. Because I'm going to be right there with you, helping you along the way and making sure you don't mention anything you're not supposed to." I slipped my hand into his. "Come on."
"Yeah, because that's not going to look suspicious at all." He complained the whole way to the office.
"Hello! You must be Ryan." The therapist gestured to me once we'd sat down. "And Matt." She gestured to Ryan.
I grinned. Ryan didn't.
"No. I'm Ryan. And I'm here because..." He started.
I held my breath.
"...I developed a drinking problem and an anger problem. It's affecting my relationships." He admitted and I let my breath free.
"There you go." I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. "I'm proud of you, man." I kissed him on the forehead. The therapist looked between us, confused.
I was sure she already knew Ryan was Lily's boyfriend. I doubted she knew who I was. I liked messing around with her confusion. It gave me a distraction from my own thoughts.
"So, I understand you're here for emotional support?" She smiled, fighting to keep the judgment out of her face.
Lily swore by her, so I was sure she was a great therapist, but it's not every day your client's boyfriend walks in with someone who looks very much like his boyfriend, especially when I sat next to him and took his hand in my lap. Or nuzzled his cheek, earning a scowl from Ryan.
The lightheartedness of my thoughts departed when he started talking. He choked out his own words and looked to me for confirmation. I sat in silence, supporting him with one ear, zoning out into my dark place with the other.
They were getting somewhere too, when my phone vibrated.
Tyler.
He'd called a couple of times while we were on the way here. Seeing the missed calls was one thing. But seeing a voicemail. He didn't strike me as the type that's going to call and leave a voicemail to apologize for the other day, a couple weeks ago. And he wouldn't leave a voicemail just to harass us. It had to be an emergency. Ryan's phone chimed soon after mine.
"It's recommended that during sessions, the phones are turned off, so that we can allow for a clearer mind. One without distractions," the therapist said, but I'd got a tingling beneath my skin, telling me that something was off.
Ryan let out a sigh and pulled his phone out. When he saw Tyler's name, he lost his breath. Like, literally. Struggled to breathe, face puffed up like he was suffocating, pupils tiny, eyes wide with panic, gripping his chest. He made eye contact with me, but my vision was blurring. Fight or flight, I was frozen to the spot. It wasn't until the therapist moved toward him and started to regulate his breathing that I was able to step away.
"I'll take this outside." I mumbled over the roaring blood pummeling my ear drums.
Tyler's message crashed into me like a train and when I stepped back into the room, I was numb.
Ryan looked at me, but the sounds in and around the room were muffled. The therapist's head turned to me in slow motion.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
I swallowed hard and bit down on my tongue to make sure I hadn't swallowed it. Words didn't find me right away.
"Can you hear me? Nod if you can hear me." She echoed.
Did I nod? I wasn't sure.
"Did you just receive some bad news?" she asked.
I turned to Ryan and I was surprised by my own voice. "We've got to go. Now."
"What's wrong?" Ryan gasped between breaths.
"Hold on a minute." The therapist halted us. "You still have twenty minutes left in your session.
Are you sure you don't want to talk about the message you just received?" she said.
"Ma'am. This is an emergency. Ryan, come on. Let's go." I urged him, hoping I hadn't received the message too late.
As soon as I thought about whether or not Eric and Ethan were with Lily, if she was safe, my blood rushed back to my brain and I started calling her number. Nothing.
"Okay, wait. Hold on. If you're going to go. You, sir, are in a bad state." She gestured to Ryan who could barely stand up straight. "I'm going to write you a prescription for anxiety meds. Fill it as soon as you can."
"Thank you." Ryan took the paper and I grabbed him, hurrying out the door.
"What's the matter?" He panted.
"I'll tell you once we get your prescription filled. Damn it. Someone pick up!" Ethan answered. Thank goodness.
"I know. I got the message. I'm heading over to the house now," Ethan rushed before I could say anything.
"You're not with her?! Is Eric with her?" I yelled.
Lily
"Guys! Are any of you going to help with these bags?" I called out, dropping the keys over the hook and kicking the door shut.
I had gone into town to shop for Eric's parents, but I got some more stuff for myself instead. All I kept thinking about while I was out was that it was Ryan's first therapy session today and wondering how he was coping—if he even made it through the door. Every time I thought about calling him, I worried he'd react just the same as he had that night. Then I'd see a color I liked, think about someone wearing it or how it made me feel, and imagine a painting with that shade. So, I'd go shopping for it and more art stuff. A few pairs of shoes. Baby gifts for Anne. A couple of things for the guys. And before I knew it, my trunk was filled with bags, and nothing for Eric's parents.
It was hard knowing what to pick up for them, since I didn't know them. I didn't come from a gift-giving family. Didn't have the luxury of money to get much of anything for anyone else. Thankfully, Ann-Marie loved the stuff I'd paint on a mug or for her wedding, the gift voucher I got because I hadn't had a lot of time to paint anything while taking care of my mother.
A onesie peeked out of the shopping bag and I was giddy over all the cute baby clothes I got for her kid. Gender neutral stuff. And some pink and blue stuff too, just in case. Tiny little socks, baby bottles, stroller and diaper bag. So stinking cute. Yeah, I smiled to myself, I'll be content enough in the godmother role . I couldn't wait to meet that kid and watch the joy it brings Ann-Marie and her husband.
I even got a pregnancy pillow for her and comfy slippers. I knew she could afford it now, but there was a time when neither of us could. If she already had this stuff she could donate it. I was just happy to be able to do this. This was also a dream I could have never dreamed up, myself.
There was a time in my life when I would've hated attributing this win to a man. I'd rather have struggled than accept help from their species. But here I was, blooming with gratitude that I found them. And wariness that the good stuff comes with the bad and I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Again.
Sighing, I dropped the bags on the floor. I'd get to unpacking them after. For now, I kicked off my shoes and headed over to the couch where I flopped back and pulled out my phone to call Matt. I might not be ready to talk to Ryan, but I was glad I had Matt to speak to.
When I pulled out my phone there were missed calls like crazy and a few voicemails. One was from an unknown number. The strangeness of it let me click on that one first.
What the fuck?
I ejected upward.
What did Ann-Marie mean by 'she's leaving and she can't tell me why'? My fingers shook. I should call the police. It didn't sound like leaving was her choice. If she was in danger, I had to do something.
I listened to it again.
She said she did something that she couldn't tell me about. Not that someone had done something to her. If I called the police, I might be landing her in a heap of shit. This didn't make any sense. What could she have done? And why was she calling me from an unknown number?
I called her actual number. Nothing. Tried calling her on this new number. Still nothing. I got the same kind of nothing when I called Tyler.
My heart was pounding as I sat back, legs sprawled out to the side in a daze. The phone sat in my limp hand.
Gone without a trace.
Just like that.
She'd made her choice and there was nothing I could do about it.
The phone started buzzing again. It was Ethan. I lifted my heavy hand to answer it, and the front door banged open.