23. Tyler
23
TYLER
I barely feel the cold when the door slams shut behind me. I'm not sure where I'm going, but I turn a different direction than The Nook and keep walking. I don't think I can handle being around people right now, especially anyone that will be able to tell that I'm upset and would wring the truth out of me. Talking about it isn't going to make it better. I can still hear the frustration in his voice, the dismissal.
He's right. What do I know about how much he's had to struggle? What do I know about the sacrifices he's made since he was a kid?
The only sacrifice I ever made was choosing my future over my father's, and while I might have left behind a black card and an easy lifestyle, I had Isaac to fall back on. Walking away from my luxury apartment was easy when being at Isaac's place was already my preference, but he's never had anything or anyone to fall back on.
I want to be the person he can turn to, but how can I when he's going to resent my point of view? I wanted to help. I wanted to take some weight off his shoulders and reassure him the way he does for me. But I just made it worse.
God, I'm such an idiot.
I turn the corner and keep going, down the street and around the block. I'm not even sure what direction I'm heading anymore. The sun's out, and it's warm for February, but I feel cold on the inside. Like Isaac’s my only source of warmth and I just walked away from it.
I walk until the burn in my legs is noticeable even over the ache in my chest. When I come across a tiny coffee shop, I stop and look inside. It's relatively empty, and there's nothing or no one I recognize. Perfect. No one here is going to ask questions if I look like I'm barely holding it together.
After ordering something I probably won't drink, I find a table near the window. My laptop is in my bag, but I can't focus on my plans for the apartment, or any schoolwork. Not when I feel like I'm unraveling.
Instead, I open a notification for a new email on my school account. Maybe it's from my usual study group planning to meet up before finals. Or maybe a syllabus update or project reminder I can obsess over instead of my imploding heart.
My stomach drops when I see who the message is from.
* * *
Tyler,
You've made your choices, and I've respected that, but before you make any mistakes that could jeopardize your future more, you should know that not everyone in your new world is who you think they are. I have information regarding your new boyfriend. Information that you need to know, that could affect his future as a business owner.
I won't waste my time chasing you down. If you're interested in the truth and preserving either of your future opportunities, you know where to find me.
Sincerely,
T. Valdin
Attorney At Law
Valdin Law, Inc.
* * *
My hands tremble as I read it again. And again. Trying to decipher the obvious threatening undertones. Whose future is at risk? Mine or Isaacs? What kind of information could he have that could affect Isaac's business?
He wouldn't. Would he?
Of course he would.
I stand up so fast I nearly knock over my chair, my untouched drink forgotten. I find an Uber close by, and go directly to my father's office. I need to know what that bastard thinks he has on Isaac, then somehow make sure he doesn't do anything stupid.
* * *
The elevator to my father's top floor office is silent aside from the buzz of a dying fluorescent light. The doors open to a sterile, cold lobby, all marble floors and modern furniture that no one actually wants to sit on. My father's assistant sees me making a beeline directly for his office and gives me a tight smile. She buzzes me through, either realizing I'm there to make a scene, or expecting me. I'm sure I arrived just on time.
Sure enough, he's waiting at his desk like he was expecting me. I ignore his smug expression, because I'm here for one thing and one thing only.
"What is it?" I demand, standing rather than sitting on the opposite side of his massive desk.
"Tyler," he says, voice smooth as the lying sack of shit attorney he is. "I wasn't sure you'd come."
The look I give him could cut through steel.
He sighs like I'm exhausting. Like I've always been. Then he opens a sleek black folder and slides it towards me.
"Your boyfriend is an interesting fellow. His background has a few red flags, though, if I do say so myself."
"You did a background check on my boyfriend?"
"Of course not. I hired a private investigator to do it for me. He came upon some pretty concerning stuff, I'm afraid."
I sit. Slowly. My hands pick up the folder before I can stop them.
School records. Transcripts. Disciplinary reports from when he was in grade school. A copy of his GED. Credit report. Records of unpaid balances and delinquencies from years ago. Proof of his involvement with an illegal fighting and gambling ring.
None of this is anything I didn’t expect or already know about.
There's a document with notes written in the margins. It looks to be a falsified work record. Isaac lied about his age and experience to get a job on the oil rig his father died working on. I can't even bring myself to be surprised. He was desperate.
Then there are the photos.
Isaac in a dark warehouse, surrounded by people. Shirtless. Blood on his knuckles and on his teeth, which are bared in a feral grin.
He's terrifying. Wild. Beautiful.
I stare at that photo a little too long. My heart aches in a way I can't explain.
"That particular photo was taken a week ago," my father says pointedly. "Not surprising that a man like him would be involved with illegal activities, honestly. You know what they say about lying with dogs." He gestures vaguely, as if bored by the discussion.
"Are you going to tell me why I'm here?"
He raises a disdainful eyebrow, clearly unimpressed that I am aware or uncaring about the information he's presented to me.
"I don't need to tell you how certain people are about things like these," he says vaguely. "It would be a shame if the Small Business Association were to catch on, though. They're already uncomfortable with someone like him opening a fighting gym in their town." He leans back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach. "I know people. People on the town council. The SBA. The zoning board. The mayor's office. I'm on an advisory committee, you know."
"Since when?"
He shrugs nonchalantly. No doubt he paid his way in to influence Isaac's likelihood of being successful. I wouldn't be surprised if he was responsible for some of the trouble Isaac's been having lately.
"Why are you doing this?" I ask pointedly, glaring directly into his beady eyes. "Is this because I don't want to follow your plan? Or because I chose him over the business connection you arranged?"
My father leans forward and puts his forearms on the desk, steepling his fingers. "I don't want you throwing your life away. You were meant for more than to be used and tossed away by someone so beneath your status."
"No. Throwing my life away would be letting you control every aspect of my life, including putting me in a dangerous situation with someone who actually did toss me away." I fold my arms around my chest. "I was meant to be loved. Heard. Cherished. And that's what he does."
Silence. Then I stand.
"You know, it's so funny that you would talk about an honest, good person the way you have. As if you don't work with the real criminals every day," I say lightly, adopting his casual, vaguely threatening tone. "I forget, how much money did you make on PTech stock right before your friend Jacob Lien was arrested for insider trading?"
His jaw tightens.
"And isn't it interesting that you happen to represent three different real estate developers, all of whom donated to a local councilman right around the time he voted to make major changes to the zoning laws to allow for a shopping center development?"
His voice is sharp now. "Watch yourself, son."
"Look, I'm not pointing fingers, Father ," I say with a venomous smile. "I'm just saying that it would be a real shame if the FCC got curious about your investment portfolio."
My father stares at me in a way he never has before. For the second time in my life, I've surprised him. Or maybe, just maybe, I've impressed him for the first time.
I toss the folder in the trash, after I take the photo of Isaac out. I'm keeping that one.
"I'm not intimidated by you anymore," I tell him. "And if you even breathe in Isaac's direction, I'll bury you with what I know."
I leave him with his mouth open in shock. The door shuts behind me. My heart is pounding, my knees shaky, but I'm already pulling out my phone. There are three text messages from Isaac.
Isaac: I’m sorry.
Isaac: Please come back.
Isaac: I just want to talk. Please, kitten.
I need to call him. Tell him I'm on my way home.
I need to get back to him. To fix everything.
My eyes are firmly on my phone as I make my way to the front desk and lobby. I'm not paying attention, and I smack right into another person. My phone clatters to the ground, and I nearly fall, too. A tight grip on my arm keeps me upright, but the moment I look up, I freeze.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't Daddy's little disappointment." Guy sneers. "Fancy meeting you here."
My entire body goes cold. I grit my teeth to bite back my nausea, although maybe if I puke directly on him, he'll get the point.
Guy drags me backward, forcing me through a door. The next thing I know, I'm shoved through a door into a dark conference room. Motion activated lights turn on as the door clicks shut.
"Let me leave, Guy. You really don't want to fuck with me right now."
He tsks. "Such language. What's wrong? Find out your gutter-trash boyfriend is going down? Can't say I'm surprised by the looks of him."
My eyes narrow. "That's never going to happen."
He leans in closer, breath hot against my ear. "As a favor to your father, I might consider still taking you after all this is over with. You'll need to get tested, of course, and maybe get cleaned out. You're already not my type. I don't want to catch anything."
His mouth twists like he's considering something, his eyes raking down my body. I instinctively move back when he stalks forward, my back hitting the wall. "I guess it wouldn’t be too inconvenient to have a cock sleeve lying around to use when I get bored."
My stomach churns. I push him away when he gets close enough for me to smell his breath. He doesn't smell like booze right now, but then I suspect you have to be a certain kind of person to act that way, drunk or sober.
"You're disgusting," I spit. "You make me sick. I wouldn't let you touch me if you were the last person on earth."
His grin falters and he slams into me, pushing me against the wall. "You better watch your mouth. Or do you need to be reminded what happens when you disrespect me?"
One hand holds my neck, not squeezing but tight enough to threaten. "I'm not going to sit here and listen to you talk shit when you take it up the ass from some low rent trailer trash."
My heart pounds, but I stare him down. "Isaac is more of a man than you could ever dream of being." I try to buck him off of me, but he's too heavy, so I do what I need to do to get some space between us. I spit in his face.
"You're a spoiled little nobody who will achieve nothing in life that isn't handed to you by your rich daddy. You could never measure up to a real man like Isaac."
Guy rears back. Snarls. Pulls his fist back.
I move first. Quickly. Just like Isaac taught me. I sidestep, grab his wrist, and twist. He yelps, trying to wrench free, but wails with pain when he tries. I push him face first into the wall he just had me up against.
"If you ever come near me again, " I growl, injecting as much malice into my adrenaline-shaken voice. "I will ruin you."
"You don't have shit on me."
I laugh menacingly. "You think I don't have anything? I've got the police report that was filed at the hospital. I've got the photos they took of my injuries and the fingerprints they lifted off my neck. There were multiple witnesses that saw you follow me after causing a scene at The Nook. "
His eyes widen. "You're bluffing."
I pull him back, spin him around, and push him. "Fucking try me."
He takes a step toward me, but again, I'm faster. My knee meets his groin, and he screams, stumbling away from me.
Turning on my heel, I head for the door, but it slams open before I reach it.
Isaac steps in, his eyes wide and assessing, looking me over frantically. His chest is heaving. He reaches his arms out for me, but then glances over my shoulder to see Guy half bent over behind me.
"You son of a bitch!" Isaac yells, and surges past me.
His fist connects squarely with Guy's face, blood exploding from behind his knuckles with a loud crunch. His voice is low and menacing. Dangerous.
"I'll fucking kill you."