Chapter 25 Tobias
Tobias
“Hey Tobias, this is Detective Jameson. I’ve left you a couple of messages, so give me a call back when you get a chance.
I just wanted to update you — since we haven’t had any new sightings or threats connected to Derrick Voss, we’re going to scale back the patrols around your place for now.
But that doesn’t mean you’re on your own.
We’ll still have units swing by from time to time, and if anything comes up, we can ramp security back up right away.
In the meantime, if you see or hear anything out of the ordinary, don’t hesitate to call nine-one-one.
You’ve also got my direct number if you need me for anything at all. ”
I replay the message again as I sit in Jude’s Place parking lot.
My hands shake as I clasp my phone tightly in my hand.
What a crock of shit. Of course they’d leave me. They have zero clue how badly he’s threatened me.
Because Derrick is right. I have no one to blame but myself. If I had just gone straight to the damn police the first time, maybe we would’ve had a better chance at capturing him and ending this whole thing.
Things wouldn’t have gotten so fucked up.
I hit my head off the headrest and harshly thread my fingers through my hair, trying to calm down. I can’t stay home. Not tonight. The silence has been deafening since leaving Elijah last weekend.
I missed Derrick’s call and that both relieved me and frightened me to no end.
He told me not to miss a call, yet I hung up on him when I was with Elijah. And it’s not like I have a number to call him back on since he calls me from a different one every time.
I’m scared.
I glance down at the clock on my dashboard.
Four fucking thirty a.m.
Fucking wonderful.
This is the third night in a row that I can’t sleep. I’ve been feeling weak and irritable. My brain just won’t turn off.
What if Derrick has finally cracked and he’s going to hurt me or Elijah?
Now’s the time I should tell the cops. I should let them know what’s going on. We’re in danger.
Aren’t we?
I stuff my head in my hands. No, no, no.
It’s too loud. All the thoughts are so loud.
I hop out of the truck and stuff my hands in my sweater.
I can’t stay home, and I can’t sit here and stir like a sitting duck either. This isn’t helping and I’m going to drive myself mad.
I need a drink.
It’s Wednesday night so the streets are quiet. Everyone’s asleep, which is perfect.
I’ll be able to slip in and catch up on the bills I missed over the weekend.
Anything to get my mind off of Derrick. Without Elijah’s body next to mine, the nightmares have returned full force.
I creep into the empty dining room and make my way over to the bar. I don’t want to…and I know I shouldn’t but…it’s been helping make the voices quieter. Turning on the overhead light, I take my time choosing a drink.
I land on the Disaronno. It’s sweet and not that strong, and at least it reminds me of Elijah. He loves Amaretto sours and I love him so, might as well.
I pick up the bottle and grab a small rocks glass from under the bar.
“Bottoms up.” I sigh before shooting back the liquid. The almond flavor tastes nice on my tongue as I swish it in my mouth before swallowing it down.
“A liquor? You’re not a regular drinker, are you?” I hear a tired voice coming from one of the booths across the dining room.
Startled, I jump back, trying to locate where the voice came from. “Who said that!?” I shout, feeling my pocket for my phone. “I’m calling the cops.”
It doesn’t sound like Derrick’s voice, but who knows. I’ve been wrong before.
“Woah, woah, woah. No need to do that. I pose no threat.” The voice chuckles. Squinting, I can make out a figure sitting up in the booth across the way from me. The bar light offers only a little bit of help. I see a tattooed arm and black hair.
Walking over to the wall, I flick up the dining room light. Now, fully revealing the mystery voice. “...Gabe?” I ask, walking over.
He’s hunched over, rubbing his eyes, looking away from me with obvious embarrassment on his face. “Ah. Yeah, unfortunately. It’s me.” He waves at me shyly.
I walk over slowly, still trying to tame my beating heart. “What the hell are you doing here?” I look around to see no one else in here too, which is good. “Have you been sleeping here?”
His face pops up out of his hands. “No! No, I swear I haven’t. I just…I needed somewhere to go…” his voice trails off. And that’s when I see it. He’s got a split lip.
“Holy shit. You okay?” I exhale, sitting down across from him.
I see his eyes drop to his lap as he tries hard to look away from me. “Yeah, I just…needed to get out of where I was staying and this was the only place I could go.” He throws up his hands. “I promise, it was just for tonight. I’ve never done this before.”
I throw up my hands too. I’ve been in that position before and I know how it feels to feel at a loss with nowhere to go. “Don’t worry about that. Do you need me to call the police? Did someone do this to you?” I squint.
He shakes his head. “I did this to myself,” he mutters.
My stomach feels out of sorts at that remark. I’ve said it way too often myself when it was in fact, not my fault.
“You couldn’t have.” I shake my head. “Come on. Talk to me.” I walk over to the bar and grab two glasses and the bottle of liquor before coming to sit back down.
Gabe sighs, sitting back in his seat, twirling the empty glass in his hand. “It’s cute you take shots with this.”
I roll my eyes and give him a deadpan stare. “I wasn’t taking shots. I was just…having a night cap.” I say, grabbing the glass and pouring a couple in.
“Ah, that’s what this is. A night cap.” He smiles cheekily.
“You. Talk. Now.” I scooch the glass closer to him, making him exhale deeply. I give him some time to think about his answer while I take a moment, pouring my own drink.
“Have you ever…wanted someone you shouldn’t?” He finally says.
I try not to laugh too hard. “Um…it’s sort of the story of my life.”
His lip quirks as he sits back in his seat again. “Right, right. You two share a dad or something.”
I take a sip and set my glass on the table. “Yeah…something like that.”
He looks down at his cup and his eyebrows pinch. I can hear the thoughts bouncing in his head from here. “Yeah, believe it or not, it’s a little more complicated than that.”
I blow out a deep breath. “More complicated? Damn. That’s crazy.”
“Yeah,” Gabe chuckles lightly.
“Well, does this person treat you well?”
Gabe shakes his head sadly. “They don’t treat me like…anything. That’s the problem.”
I try to make sense of what he’s trying to tell me, but only end up more confused. “I’m afraid you’ve lost me.”
Gabe nods simply. “You and me both.” He eyes his glass, sighing deeply. “What do you do when you want something you don’t deserve?”
My eyebrows shoot up. Damn. He’s really putting the words in my mouth for me. “I…don’t know. I wish I did. I just…I’ve kind of been wondering the same thing," I admit, taking a sip before pouring more into both our cups, even though he hasn’t touched his yet.
“You? You and Elijah seem like a perfect match.”
I huff out a laugh as the guilt of what I’m keeping from him bubbles under the surface. “We’re good…when he’s here.” I confess. “I don’t do so well when he’s not around.”
Gabe cringes. “Damn. I didn’t know.”
I scratch the back of my neck. “Yeah, I don’t really talk about it, I guess.”
Gabe leans back in his booth, propping his feet up on my booth and folding them over each other. “Well, go on. Talk to me. I can be your therapist or whatever.”
I shake my head, laughing. “I don’t even talk to my own therapist.” Which reminds me how long I haven’t picked up her calls. I should probably do that…
“Anyway, you’re the one with the split lip.” I point at his face.
“And you’re the one with the split eyebrow.” He points at mine.
My hand shoots up to rub over the scabbed over cut. Dammit. I almost forgot about that.
The sting still feels fresh.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” he shifts uncomfortably.
I hold up my hand, cutting him off. “No, it’s fine. It’s…true.”
“Did Elijah do that?”
“No.” I rush. “He’d never lay a hand on me like that. Ever.” I want to make that clear as day. Elijah is the most gentle, kind soul that’s ever touched me.
Gabe takes a moment. His eyes zoning into my scar. “Then who did?”
I shake my head, lowering my gaze. “I fell.”
He leans in, folding his arms on the table.
“I’ve seen all types of cuts and bruises in my day.
” He points to my eyebrow. “And that is a wound that’s only inflicted from aggression.
” He leans back in his seat stretching out his arms across the back of the booth.
“Let it out. It’ll feel good once you do. ”
I grapple with myself. It may be the booze on an empty stomach, my lack of sleep or simply feeling lonely, but I actually want to talk to him about it. After all, I don’t have to tell him a lot. Just enough to feel less of this weight on my shoulders.
I swallow my fear and lick my dry lips. “It was…my biological father.” I roll my eyes, my stomach twisting at that connection. “I don’t even like calling him that. Derrick.” His name tastes like venom on my tongue.
Gabe’s eyes widen. “Holy shit. Derrick Voss?”
Shit. I nod.
“I saw him all over the local news months ago after the fire here. I didn’t make the connection until now.” He rubs his hand over his mouth. “He’s your dad. Wow.”
“No. He’s not,” I state, my voice rough. “Jude Thorne is my dad. Derrick Voss is…” I exhale, drained from explaining this over and over. “He’s just an abuser who, unfortunately, happened to have a child.”
Gabe sinks into his seat, his shock giving way to sadness. “I… I get it,” he says quietly.
We sit in silence, sharing a beat without words. I’ve never met anyone else like me. I don’t know what he’s gone through, but if it’s anything like my experience… I feel an overwhelming sense of sadness for him.