Chapter 32
NATE
I slam the manila envelope on the table in front of Grayson, who jerks back in shock. The piece of sushi that was making its way to his mouth falls from between his chopsticks, landing on the table in a sad plop.
“What are you doing here, you little fuck?”
There’s a teasing tone to his voice—surprisingly, given I just ruined the last bite of his lunch. But I think his attitude has more to do with the fact that I’ve never tracked him down at his place of work—not even when we were commotion-causing teenagers.
I could have waited for our next weekly boxing session to get this out of my system, but my patience was on thin ice.
I did the workout thing, beating my body up at least once a day. I threw myself into work, getting into the nitty-gritty of all the projects at Archer Aviation. I even drove the extra miles to see my family three times this week, rather than my usual one.
Yet no matter how physically and mentally drained I was, my mind always circled back to one thing.
Vivienne Brown.
Her parents.
Our last goodbyes.
“Read.” The word grits through my teeth.
Grayson’s eyebrows furrow in surprise, taken aback by my harsh tone. And with one last questionable look in my direction, he reads the words that have brought me into this rabbit hole.
Thought I’d do you a favour.
I wince as I remember the writing on the envelope.
I shouldn’t have answered the door.
I shouldn’t have let curiosity get the best of me.
I shouldn’t have opened it.
There are so many things I shouldn’t have done, but a part of me knows I was going to find out either way. I’d already made the call to the private investigator and was waiting for his response—only difference is, Carter beat me to the punch.
“What am I looking at?” Grayson waves the papers around in confusion.
“You’re looking at how I killed Vivienne’s parents.”
I look down at my own two hands, meeting their now red tinge from the blood of all the lives I’d taken. I went into aviation to make things safer, better, not worse.
It’s only when the papers are slammed down in the middle of the table that I’m pulled out of my daze.
“What the fuck do you mean, Nate?” Grayson looks around at his surroundings.
Lucky for us, the hospital cafeteria was busy at this time of day, voices overlapping from all directions. It’s the only reason I feel comfortable enough to give him the full story—something that draws his anger out further.
“Don’t you dare blame yourself, Nate. This is Carter’s doing, not yours. Plus, what was he trying to prove with this? That he’s an imbecile who can’t safety test planes?”
I lean back in my chair, anger rising within me at the thought. “It might have been his plane that killed Vivienne’s parents, but it was my idea. I’m the brains behind the operation.”
“Do you hear yourself right now?" My best friend snaps. "Carter stole the idea and failed to execute it properly. None of this was in your control.”
I shake my head in denial. This is where Grayson is wrong. This was all my fault, my doing—and now, I’m bearing the consequences.
Showing up to work every day with a positive mindset has been just as bad. Every time I look into the eyes of an employee, I see the reflection of a killer. I can only imagine how they’d look at their boss, knowing what I’d done.
“It doesn’t matter anymore, plus it’s way too late. Vivienne will never be able to look at me in the eyes knowing the man she loves—or loved, I should say”—a hysterical laugh bursts out of me—“is responsible for killing the two people who mattered to her the most.”
“She loves you?” Grayson recoils in shock.
I nod in shame.
It was merely a mumble, but I heard the words after I’d confessed them to her. I also heard the sobs that racked her body as I held her tight. It’s a sound that’s still etched in my memory, replaying in my head every night like a nightmare.
“You’re blaming the wrong person, Nate. It wasn’t you. It was Carter.”
“But it was my idea!”
My fist doesn’t get the chance to meet the table when I’m jolted forward by the collar. My eyes widen as I stare at frenzied blue ones. Grayson’s grip on me tightens, and if he goes any firmer, he might cut off my circulation.
“Listen to me closely, Nate. I did not go through the effort of playing matchmaker and squishing the two of you in the same goddamn pea pod for you to ruin it at the last minute. This is the woman of your dreams. You aren’t going to let her go because of your clouded judgment. Do you hear me?”
I nod against my will. There’s no other choice when I’m positive my life is at stake. He may have recited the Hippocratic Oath, but I’m sure he’d break it for some torture-induced motivation.
Grayson looks satisfied with my answer.
“Good. Now, I’d like you to find that bitch Carter and beat him up until his bones snap.
You’ll then admit him into this very hospital where I’ll gladly write down in his chart that the harm was self-inflicted.
” His hold on my collar tightens, unrelenting.
“Then you’re going to find Vivienne, sit her down in a secluded café—my treat—and explain the story with a straight head.
None of that ‘I killed your parents’ bull—”
“Everything alright here, boys?”
Grayson recoils at the sound, letting go of my collar as he falls back in his chair. He tries to act casual, picking invisible lint from his scrubs, but the usually tan man is now as white as a ghost.
I have no clue what illicit this change in him until I turn to see a man dressed similarly to him. Blue scrubs. White hair. Wrinkles around his eyes. His badge reads: Harold Wright, Chief of Cardiovascular Surgery.
“Dr. Wright.” Grayson lets out a nervous laugh, the kind a kid makes when he’s been caught red-handed. In truth, he’s just a thirty-two-year-old man caught bullying his best friend. “Would you like to join us for lunch?” He gestures to the empty seat beside him.
The old man laughs so wholeheartedly that I might get a toothache.
“Oh, no, that's alright. “I only came here to tell you about this new case we got today. Hope to get your input if you have some time on your hands. There’s no rush, though. You can join me in my office after your break.” He smiles one last time before walking away.
It’s only when the man exits the cafeteria that Grayson's soul re-enters his body.
“Boss,” he says, like it explains it all. “I need to stay on his good side if I want to get hired after residency.”
“You seemed scared of him, though.”
Grayson shrugs. “He’s a nice man for the most part, but once you piss him off, there’s no going back.
Plus, he keeps asking me if his daughter can shadow me for a few weeks to discover the ‘joy that is cardiovascular surgery,’ and I keep avoiding it.
If he likes me enough, he won’t take it as an insult. ”
“Why are you avoiding it?” I ask.
Apparently, I’ve been kept out of the loop when it came to Grayson’s work life.
“Why don’t I want a seventeen-year-old girl following me around for weeks? I feel like the answer is obvious.”
An image of Dr. Wright pops up in my mind. Seventeen? The man is too old to have a daughter that young. But his last name sounds oddly familiar. Wright. I’m not sure if it’s a common last name, but I feel like I know someone who shares it.
Needless, I nod in agreement. “I can’t blame you.”
The slice of peace I’d gotten during our interaction dissipates when Grayson slams his fist down on the table, eyes blazing in my direction.
I recoil in fear.
“Back to business,” he seethes. “We’re here to talk about your problems, not mine. So go fuck up your ex-friend and win the girl.”
———
A chill runs up my spine as I get out of my car, circling around it to face what must be the most deserted building on the outskirts of the city.
According to Melanie, this is the location of Carter and the Crawford Aerospace headquarters. And if it weren’t for my trust in her stalking skills, the sole other vehicle parked in the lot, and the trash bags accumulating next to the front entrance, I’d say the place was abandoned.
I take a deep breath in, shoving down the feeling of uneasiness that settles in my bones as I take my first step forward. With each one in the direction of the brick establishment, snow crunches beneath my boots—the sound awfully loud in such a quiet space.
This was it. The confrontation of the century. There was no backing down now.
I freeze when I reach the door and place my hand on the handle. My heart beats faster at the uncertainty that lies on the other side. And while a part of me hopes I can avoid the inevitable altogether, the universe has other plans for me.
The door squeaks open, and just as I take a large step back, it slams against the wall from a strong gust of wind.
Dusty desks. Chairs askew and jutting out at odd angles. Empty alcohol bottles litter about every inch of the space. What’s supposed to be an office looks far from such.
A creak drifts down from the floor above, followed by the sound of footsteps and the muffled shouting of someone arguing.
Someone’s here—there’s no denying it. And like all main characters in horror movies, I follow the direction of the noise as quietly as possible to make my way up the weathered wooden stairs.
“Leave me alone, Mom!” an angry voice shouts.
The air, heavy with quiet, is broken by frantic pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth. I'm growing dizzy just thinking about it.
“I know I failed you. I know I failed the Crawford legacy. But there’s nothing I can do about it now. Just wire me the money so I can stay afloat for the next while.”
Well, I’ll be damned—Melanie was right. Carter motherfucking Crawford is here. And as it turns out, he still speaks to his mother the same way he did in university.
I stop midway up the staircase, deciding it’s the perfect place to listen in on this conversation.