Chapter Thirty-eight
Carter
The past week has been one of the most intense weeks of my life. I’ve never been one to stress over things, but that was before Kenna. Now it seems I live in constant fear of driving to the cabin only to find it empty.
I love her. She loves me. But she said she won’t let me give up anything for her. What she doesn’t understand is that I’ll be gaining much more than I’ll be losing.
Christian is foremost in my mind. We’ve had more conversations this week about how things would work if I moved. He shows no hesitation. Not a hint of sadness. Is it possible that at his age, he understands how much I love her? Is it even conceivable that he feels for Bug what I feel for Kenna?
I don’t like keeping secrets. That’s another thing eating away at me. I never told her about Cyrus coming to the shop. That might have sent her fleeing for sure. At the very least, she’d have asked all kinds of questions about what he said.
What he said.
I look up from the car I’m working on, glance outside to the spot that asshole confronted me, and recall a piece of the conversation.
What was it he said about her being a meal ticket?
What kind of bullshit is that? And not only did he accuse me of wanting her to be my meal ticket, he said if she was going to be anyone’s, she’d be his.
In an instant, all kinds of shit—bad shit—is working through my head. Was Cyrus not only her husband, but her… handler? Pimp? Did he force her back into the business after they got married? Push her to move from escort to prostitute to support his gambling habits? Fuck. Was he trafficking her?
I try to wrap my mind around it. Is it even possible?
She flat-out denied it when I voiced the concern a few weeks ago. I honestly wasn’t being all that serious when I brought it up. I figured if I asked her about the worst scenario I could think of, she’d be more likely to tell me about something that wasn’t nearly as bad.
She’s hiding something, that’s for sure. Something she’s afraid to tell me even after our declarations of love. But… she did want to tell me something on Saturday. Was she going to reveal her deepest, darkest secrets? And why did she stop herself from sharing them with me?
Then again, if she had been forced into sex slavery, the very last person she’d want knowing about it is the new guy she’s sleeping with.
She may not believe it, but what I told her was the absolute truth. Nothing about her past would change how I feel about her.
I try to get back to work, but… ah, fuck…
As more of my conversation with Cyrus cycles through my head, more fear makes my skin crawl.
He knows about the business loan. The mortgage on the house.
Could he know about the cabin, too? There isn’t a loan on it.
We own it free and clear. If Cyrus simply ran a credit check on me, nothing about the cabin would show up. Still, how safe is she there?
I wipe my hands off and pull out my phone.
Me: Hey, Jonah. Any news yet?
Jonah: I was going to call you later. Background check revealed a lot of debt. Maxed out credit cards. A second mortgage on his condo. He’s even borrowed against his business. No criminal record. Still waiting on more detailed info from my contact. Hopefully early next week.
Me: Thanks. As soon as you hear anything more, please let me know.
Jonah: Will do.
“You okay, brother?”
Lincoln is staring at me from the next service bay.
“Yeah. Why?”
“You’ve been zoning out a lot this week. You worried about Kenna?”
I tuck my phone away and sit on a nearby stool. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
He walks over and leans against the car. “Are you really in this thing with her? As in you’re going to do all that shit we talked about the other day?”
“I love her, man.” I cock my head. “Wouldn’t you do anything for Tiffany?”
He narrows his eyes, scoffs, then looks off into the distance. “Actually, no. Give up the business? Move away from the town I love? Uproot my kid’s life?”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Seriously. And when I say no, I don’t just mean no. I mean fuck no.”
I shake my head, confused. “But… you love her.”
He shrugs. “Yeah. So? Let me ask you this. Would you have given up the same things for Denise? Would you have quit your business and moved across the country?”
I sigh, knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell.
“See?” he says, spreading his arms wide as if proving a point.
“No, I don’t see. What in the hell are you talking about?”
“Just that there are different kinds of love. And I guess not all of us can be lucky enough to find what you and Kenna have.” He tilts his head. “Assuming it’s reciprocal. You think she feels the same way about you?”
My eyes close briefly. “Brother, I’ve been asking myself that all week. She says she loves me. And she claims she doesn’t want me changing my life for her. But… shit… now that you said what you did, my head is all over the place.”
He grips my shoulder. “I’m sure she does. If she didn’t jump at the chance to have you sacrifice everything for her, it can only mean one of two things: she’s head-over-heels, or she thinks it’s just a casual fling.”
“It’s not a casual fling. No fucking way does she believe that.”
“Well then, I guess you have your answer.” He scrubs a hand across his jaw. “Damn… you think what Tiffany and I have is nothing more than an extended casual fling? Since I’m not willing to go to the lengths you have?”
“I don’t know, man. Only you can answer that.”
“Maybe we should get hitched.”
I guffaw loudly. “You think getting married will make you fall more deeply in love?”
He shrugs. “It was just a thought.”
Now I’m the one gripping his shoulder. “Linc, when you get married, it should be more than ‘just a thought.’ If you aren’t willing to throw yourself in front of a bus for her, maybe she’s not the right girl.”
“Eh. I’d probably throw myself in front of a bus for her. You’ve seen her rack, right? And, damn, she’s good in bed.”
“How about you don’t go doing anything rash. Like stepping in front of buses or buying rings?”
He laughs. “I guess I’ll leave all that stupid love shit to you, big brother.”
The alarm on my phone goes off. “I’ve got to go clean up. I have a meeting at the bank.”
“Jesus, you’re really doing this?”
“I promised Kenna I wouldn’t do anything yet. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have all my ducks in a row for when the time comes.”
“And when might the time come?”
“Soon.” I stand and push the stool away. “Very soon.”
~ ~ ~
Twenty minutes later, I’m sitting across from John Walker, my jaw in my lap as I try to process what he just told me.
“What do you mean the loan has been satisfied?”
John looks confused. “You aren’t aware?”
“Does this look like the face of someone who knows he just paid off a quarter-million-dollar loan? I’m not crazy, John.”
“Wow. Okay. So, I can honestly say, in my thirty years in the business, this has never happened before.”
I cross my arms. “Who in the hell paid it?”
“Let me check the records.” He clicks around on his computer for a few minutes, hemming and hawing the entire time. “It was paid by cashier’s check.” His brow furrows. “Huh. This is strange.”
“What’s strange?”
He turns his computer monitor so I can see a copy of the check. “See here, this is where the buyer’s name should appear, but it’s not there.”
“But it should be?”
“Typically, yes. Due to money-laundering laws here in the US, it’s not really possible to get a totally anonymous cashier’s check.”
“Then how did this one get by?”
“I’ve only heard of a few cases like this. While the buyer’s name might not be printed on the check, it will still be securely attached to the record.”
“So pull up the record.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t do that. It’s not from one of our banks. In fact, it might take a court subpoena to access that kind of information.”
“Shit, really?” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Let me get this straight, Carter. You’re upset that the loan has been satisfied?”
“Hell yes I am. I guarantee this wasn’t done out of the kindness of someone’s heart. Everyone has an ulterior motive. Hell, it’s probably Tucker McQuaid. Maybe he wanted to add to his massive portfolio, though I’m not sure why. Anyone who knows us knows business isn’t what it used to be.”
“I doubt it was Tucker. He banks with us.”
“John, I’m still trying to wrap my head around this. How could someone even know all the personal information to pay off the loan? Wouldn’t they need to get the details from me or my siblings?”
“Loans are easy enough to find online if you know how to search for them. See here…” He turns the screen back around. “Your loan number is notated right there.”
I sit back in the chair, stunned beyond belief.
“Listen, Carter. I can call the originating bank and see if they’d be willing to share information. But no guarantees. It’s a large institution, not a small one like we are. In my experience, those are far less likely to do banker-to-banker favors.”
“Yeah. I guess thanks for trying.”
“Another thing. If the money didn’t come from you or your siblings, it’ll be considered a gift.
You’ll want to go over this with your CPA because there will be tax implications.
Either way, the place is yours free and clear.
As soon as the satisfaction is officially recorded, you’ll be mailed a payoff letter closing the loan. ”
“Free and clear. Right.” I scoff. “It just means we’re now indebted to some anonymous person who will surely want something from us in the future.”
John’s intercom beeps and a woman’s voice says, “John, your three o’clock is here.”
He turns to me. “I’ll update you with anything I find out. But like I said, don’t get your hopes up. If you really want to know, you may need to hire an attorney.” He stands and holds out his hand.
I shake it, not wanting to leave without answers, but it seems I’ve no choice in the matter.
Walking back across the street to the shop, I cycle through all the possibilities. Why now? This week?