9. Ian
9
IAN
I watch Sarah walk away, wishing I had it in me to man up and stop her from leaving. But I can't.
I don't know what hurts the most.
That she wouldn't let me talk and walked out on me, or that she let me off the hook so easily.
Lying in the scent of our copulation, I stay in bed for about an hour or so. I don't know, I’m honestly not paying much attention to the time. I just want to remain in the sweet scent of Sarah's and my passion and never have to worry about anything again.
Reality catches up with me way faster than I wanted it to, though.
My phone starts to ring, and I have to force myself out of bed to go pick it up.
“Hello,” I grumble into the phone. Whoever is on the other end of the better have a good reason for pulling me out of my comfort haze. I could die in the spot where I was and wouldn't have any complaints.
Damn, what sex we had, and what an orgasm, too. It just keeps getting better. If I knew sex with her would be this good maybe I wouldn't have dallied on it all those years ago, but I know it's the pleasure haze still talking.
There's no way I would have touched Sarah then. She was eighteen while I was thirty-one. The age gap was just too much back then, and as much as she tried to break me, I refused to give in.
Besides, I've always known she could do so much better than me. She still can, which is why I don't understand why she's still putting up with me.
Is it out of of pity?
Before I focus long on the thought, a demanding voice comes from the phone, pushing me out of my head.
“Mr. Peele, can you hear me? Hello!”
“Yeah,” I murmur.
The voice is familiar.
“Okay, great. You went silent on me for a while there.”
“Sorry.”
“It's alright. This is Christopher. I've been waiting to hear from you all morning.”
Christopher? Who's that?
The voice does sound familiar, but I can't think of any Christopher I'm supposed to reach out to.
“I'm your aunt's lawyer,” he says in explanation, probably sensing my confusion. His tone is calm, but there's no missing the irritation beneath it.
I've managed to piss him off, too.
“Yeah, sorry. How are you?”
“Good. Where are you?”
Where am I? The motel, I guess.
“Mr. Peele, we are supposed to be meeting this morning,” he says again in irritation.
Shit. I'd totally forgotten all about that.
Jumping into action, I stride to my bag and pull out a shirt and jeans within seconds.
“You'll see me now,” I assure him.
“Mr. Peele, if you can't make it this morning maybe we can reschedule,” he offers.
“No,” I say quickly, knowing that I need to get this over with as fast as I can. “I'll be there soon. Just um… send me the address to the place, again, will you? I can't seem to find the old message you sent.”
It's not a lie. I'm terrible with mobile devices. Give me a radio and you'll see me quickly tuning the stations or a television and I'll be on a series or two soon. But give me an Android device, and I'm clueless on what to do with it for days.
“Sure. See you soon,” he responds, his voice unsure.
He doesn't believe I'm going to show up, does he?
“I'm in town already, okay? I'm at this motel. I don't know the name. Look, I just need to find my way to the property,” I explain.
“Oh, okay. There's only one motel in Glazer Ville, and if you're staying there then you're about five minutes away from here. Would you want me to come pick you up?”
“No, it's fine. I'll manage on my own. Just send me the address. Thanks.”
I end the call before he can say anything else and toss the phone onto the bed. The thought of running into the shower to quickly wash off occurs to me, but I shove it aside, not wanting to easily get rid of Sarah's scent.
This may have been the last time I'll see her again for all I know.
My eyes find the card she left at the edge of the bed for me before leaving, and I pick it up.
Sarah Brown.
My thumb traces the card as I stare at her number. I am about to be sucked into a mental debate of whether to call her or not when my phone chimes with the text from the lawyer.
I take the card with me and shove it into the pocket of my jeans once I'm fully dressed. I grab my phone and exit the room. I get directions from Susie to the place and pretend not to notice the many questions in her eyes about why I'm going to that location.
I ignore them and thank her before I take my leave.
True to Christopher's words, the estate is only five minutes away from the motel, and I'm able to quickly locate it thanks to my truck. Although beat up, the truck has been serving me for years now, and I'm just not ready to give it up. Not that I could afford to right now anyway. Or maybe I can.
Because boy, the property in front of me is nothing like I was expecting. Which is clearly shortsighted from my end, because I was told a billion dollars worth of estate, right?
Whew.
Parking my truck, I walk the shallow road, and that's where I see Christopher at the gate of the estate.
“Oh good, you're here. Let's go in and see everything.”
I want to tell him that I've seen everything from the top and it's totally mind-blowing, but I don't say anything. Instead, I just nod. Just as we are about to enter, he pauses and turns to face me with an apologetic look on his face.
“Forgive my manners. I'm just not myself doing all this. How are you doing?” he rambles, offering his hand to me.
I take it and shake his hand.
Is it me or does he look nervous about entering the property?
Are we not allowed to enter?
“I’m alright.” I say, skeptically eyeing the gate.
He nods and turns back to push the gate, but it doesn't open. Slapping his forehead, he mutters something to himself.
He steps back toward the end of the wall where there's some security shit. He types what I presume to be the entry code, and a buzzing sound fills the air. He goes back to the gate, and this time, it opens when he pushes it.
As we enter, we're met with two security guys who immediately go back to their post as soon as they see him, and he continues walking in. I follow him.
I watch him as he walks farther into the property. There's an edge around him that I can't put my finger on, or maybe I'm just being paranoid.
Christopher is a man well in his fifties, judging by the way he walks and his hair. I remember the first time we met in my apartment in New Jersey. He had come to me with news of my aunt's death and my new wealth. I felt there was some sort of affection in his voice as he was speaking about her then, but I wasn't sure.
Now that I'm watching him walk me through the property as he explains its worth and current occupant to me, I can tell he been here more often than an estate lawyer normally would need to.
The tour around the estate takes over two hours. Eventually, we stand in front of my aunt's house, and I can immediately tell it's hers before he even says it.
“And here is Maya’s, um, Ms. Gabriel's house. She wanted you to be the one to stay here. It's not out for rent. Neither are the rest of the properties, except the ones that currently have people in them. Although after you stay here for a year and you have access to the property, you can rent out whatever you want. Except the main house, of course.”
I nod at his words, still reeling from my reality.
“So all this is really mine?” I ask him.
“Pretty much. We have more properties in neighboring towns and cities.”
Go figure.
“And they're all mine?” I ask again. He smiles at my words.
“Yes, Mr. Peele. They're all yours. Your aunt made sure of that.”
My aunt. That word still doesn't sit well with me. I've spent the most of my life knowing Justin as my only family member until his death. Now suddenly I'm told I have another family member who has left me such wealth, but I never got to meet her?
It's all too much, having so much and yet so little at the same time.
“There is also money in her accounts which of course you can't access until after the one year duration,” he continues to explain, not noticing my mood.
“And I can only stay in her house, alone?” I ask him, not really sure I understand the criteria.
He stalls at my words, a thoughtful look coming over his face.
“Well, you can always use any of the property that you want. You're just not allowed to sell any or rent them out.”
“I thought you said?—”
“I'm sure your aunt wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable, so if you're not okay with staying in her space just yet, she would understand.”
He speaks as though he knows so well.
Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. But at least he used to know her when she was alive. Which is why I'm still confused about getting all this.
Why me?
Why not anyone she knew personally while she was alive?
So many questions, but no one to answer any of them.
“Can I ask how you got the bruises on your face?”
Well, about damn time. He's been staring at my face so hard since I got here, I honestly thought he wouldn't survive our first minute together. He surprised me though and held his tongue until now.
A silly thought comes to my mind, and I start to laugh even before I speak.
“I fought off a wild dog.”
The stunned look on his face tells me I haven't lost my spunk just yet.
Shaking my head, I begin to walk away from him. I'm done here for today.
I hear his hurried footsteps behind me just a few minutes after I started walking, and I stop to glance back at him.
“Are you leaving?” he asks me.
“Yeah, I think I've seen enough,” I say.
“Will you be staying in town for a while?”
I haven't allowed myself to think about if I'm going to stay or leave till now. But now that he's asking, I feel the answer leaves me without having to think much.
“I'm going back to New Jersey tomorrow,” I say and turn to walk away from him.
I've had enough of this town.
When I get into my truck and drive away from the estate, there's only one person I'm yearning to see just one last time before I leave, but I'm too much of a coward to call her.