Chapter 33 #2
I nod once and roll my lips inward. Anger and embarrassment buzz under my skin, but right now I’m focusing on standing up straight and not giving anyone another reason to feel sorry for me.
Mason clears his throat, drawing my attention. “I have already taken some pictures. There’s no evidence anyone tried to break in. I was telling Logan and Carson that they can go ahead and clean up. Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”
I offer each of them a small, grateful smile. I don’t know what I would do without my friends.
“We can go inside and talk in my room,” I suggest. This isn’t a conversation I want to have with an audience. It’s humiliating.
“That’s fine,” he agrees.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Ryan asks, placing his hand on the small of my back.
“No.” I shake my head quickly and step away. “You need to go to work. Take Nana’s car. You can pick me up and drive me home when you finish work for the day.”
“I’m not leaving you, Beck,” he insists. “I don’t have to come inside with you, but I’ll be here when you’re done.”
“Seriously, go,” I argue. “You have appointments to keep, and so do I.”
As much as I appreciate his support, I need to stand on my own two feet and not depend on it. And he needs to learn that he doesn’t always need to rescue me.
His jaw tightens. “Beck,” he says, with a warning in his voice.
“Ryan.” I plant my hands on my hips and narrow my eyes.
“Actually,” Banks interrupts our standoff.
“I asked April to reschedule everyone’s appointments for the day.
I want to get this cleaned up, and I’ve called a buddy to come and install new security lights and cameras for the front and back of the building.
It’s something I should have done years ago and just kept putting off. ”
“Oh. Okay.” I let out a long breath, shoulders slumping.
Fuck my life. Another day without pay. One step forward, ten steps backwards.
Ryan cups the back of my neck with his palm and leans down to my ear. “Go with Mason. I’ll wait for you out here.”
There’s no sense in arguing with him further; I can save that for later.
Taking one last glance at the wall, I say to Mason, “Let’s go around to the front.”
I don’t look back when I hear the pressure washer kick on. Water slamming against the bricks, washing away the hurtful words I was meant to see.
The sound follows me around the corner until we reach the front. Thankfully, Braden didn’t paint this wall. There would be a lot more tongues wagging if he did.
Mason reaches past me and pulls the glass door open. Warm air engulfs us as we walk through reception towards my private studio space.
April has the phone tucked between her shoulder and ear. She gives me a sad smile as we pass.
Opening the door, I flick on the overhead lights and gesture towards a worn leather chair for Mason to sit in. I choose the stool closest to my workbench.
He shuts the door behind him, and the only sound is the hum of the heater.
Lowering himself into the chair, he asks, “How are you holding up?”
“Fabulous.” The sarcasm is an unnecessary reflex response. Closing my eyes, I rub my forehead for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry. This is a lot.”
“It is. I have a few questions, and then I’ll tell you what I know.”
“Okay.” I rock in place as I play with the tail of my silk scarf.
“When was the last time you saw Braden?” he asks, pulling out a notebook and pen.
“Not since we saw him outside the bakery last month. And it was months before that.”
“When was the last time you spoke with him on the phone?”
“I don’t. I always decline his calls.” Raising my thumb to my mouth, I chew on the corner of my nail. “He still texts, but I have him blocked on all social media so he can’t reach me that way or comment on my posts.”
“Okay. When was the last time he contacted you?”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I take my phone from my crossbody bag. Punching in the passcode, I bring up Braden’s messages and hand it to Mason.
“Nothing since I was at the bar last Thursday night. To be honest, it’s the longest he has gone without contacting me since we broke up earlier this year. I thought slashing Ryan’s tires was his final fuck you and that he was done with me.” Shrugging, my eyes drop to the floor.
“Did you see him at the bar?” he asks as he scrolls through our last several messages.
“No.” I shake my head. “I looked around when the first message came through, but I didn’t see him.”
“Okay.” After a few minutes, he hands it back to me. “I may need you to bring it to the station at some point so we can copy the data.”
“Of course,” I say, slipping it back into my bag. “What happens now?”
“After I spoke with Ryan yesterday morning about his truck, I tracked Braden down at a restaurant in Bracken Creek. I asked him where he had been on Thursday night, and he said he was home alone all night. Went to bed early because he had to work Friday morning.”
The side of Mason’s mouth quirks when I snort.
The thought of Braden getting out of bed early for anything is laughable.
He hasn’t had a full-time job in years. Lately, he has been picking up odd construction and landscaping jobs.
It’s difficult to find steady employment when you think you are better than everyone else on the job site.
“That doesn’t explain how he knew what I was wearing, though, does it?”
“Nope. I’ll talk to the staff and see if anyone remembers him being there that night.” Clearing his throat, Mason continues. “I spoke to his neighbours, and they all corroborate that the truck was in the driveway Thursday night, but they haven’t seen him around much lately.”
“You don’t believe him, do you?” I ask, worrying my bottom lip.
“No.” He shakes his head.
“So, what happens next?”
“I’ll find him again and see where he was overnight. Banks told me he was here until eight last night for a special booking. So, the vandalism occurred between eight p.m. and eight a.m. when Banks returned this morning.”
“I hate this,” I sigh.
“Has he ever tried to intimidate you before?”
“What do you mean?”
“When he said, ‘You’ll regret that.’ Has he said things like that before and then followed through?”
I pause, my mind mulling over the question. I’ve been making excuses for Braden’s bad behaviour for so long it feels automatic.
“Not like this,” I say slowly. “Not to other people.”
I run my fingernails back and forth over my lips, buying myself some time. “Braden thinks very highly of himself.”
Mason sits patiently, waiting for me to continue.
“If he thought I was disrespecting him, he’d lash out.
Put me back in my place, I guess.” Saying it out loud makes my stomach tighten.
“He was jealous constantly. Would question me about my clients and who I was spending time with. He hated it when I went out with my friends, but he never wanted to join us. He even got jealous when I spent time with Aunt Maggie.”
“It was like he was setting me up for a fight. Looking for a reason to be angry at me.” I hesitate, then add, “There was a lot of yelling. Sometimes he’d get right in my face, close enough that I’d have to step away.”
Mason closes his notebook and leans closer. “Were you afraid of him?”
The question lands heavier than the others. I open my mouth to answer and then close it again. Was I afraid? I hadn’t thought of it that way. At least not directly.
“I didn’t think of it as fear,” I say finally. “I wasn’t afraid all the time.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “But I watched what I said. What I did. I learned over time how to avoid setting him off.”
“That sounds a lot like fear, Beck.”
I exhale slowly, my eyes dropping to my hands. “Maybe,” I admit. “I just knew it was easier not to piss him off.”
Mason watches me for a long moment. “Is that why you continue to pay his bills?”
I nod, the answer settling into place as I say it out loud.
“Yeah, it felt safer to keep the peace. I let him stay in the house longer than I should have. I keep paying for the truck. It was easier than having to deal with what would happen if I said no.” Pausing, I close my eyes and take a slow breath before saying, “This is what saying no looks like. If he can’t get to me, he will do things to hurt the people around me. ”