20. Scott #2
“To be fair, I kind of scared the shit out of her.” I chuckle humorlessly.
“She was pulling the garbage bin to the curb outside. I called out, but she was wearing headphones or something, didn’t see me until I was close enough to touch her arm.
She screamed and jumped back against the garbage bin.
It fell over, and so did she. And that’s how my aunt found me my first day back, standing over my sister, nearly twice the size I was the last time either of them had seen me. ”
I huff, remembering the fear and anger in my aunt’s eyes, how much it made her look like my father. The only saving grace was that she was trying to protect Ally.
“I tried to explain, but my aunt just stood in front of me, screaming in my face, telling Ally to go inside and call the cops. All the neighbors came out. It didn’t matter how much I apologized or tried to explain myself, she just kept getting louder.
Luckily, I didn’t get in any sort of trouble, but getting back to the group home late via police chauffeur didn’t exactly make me look good. ”
“Did you try again?”
“Not for a while. Eventually, I got help from my social worker to set up a visitation of sorts, and I got her a gift. It wasn’t anything fancy, I didn’t have any money to speak of. It was just a glittery blue journal with a matching pen.”
“That’s cute.”
“Eh. I thought maybe we’d try to bond over shared trauma or something, I don’t know. They’re big on journaling in therapy, so I thought maybe she could use it to work out her fears or whatever.”
“I take it that meeting didn’t go well?”
“It was better, for sure, but Ally was so young. The last thing she remembered of me was what I did to our dad. Add all the issues that I had in juvie, and my aunt had rightfully painted me as a violent person who couldn’t be trusted.”
“That’s not fair. You were a kid too.”
“Life’s not fair.”
“So what did you do then?”
“Nothing, really. I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.
I left a note for her on the first page of the journal, telling her I was sorry about everything she’d been through, that all I ever wanted was to protect her.
I left her my phone number, and told her that if she ever needed me, under any circumstances, I would be there for her. ”
It was the last time we ever spoke or saw each other in person.
“That’s why you didn’t want to give Cory your phone?”
“Yeah. He knows about my juvie record from our interview, but him finding out about Ally was kind of an accident.”
Naz tilts his head to look at me curiously.
“I get a lot of spam calls. Like, a lot. And I answer every single call, even if I’m positive that I’m just going to hang up and block the number as soon as the person or robot voice starts talking.
On top of that, I get a ton of text messages about debt consolidation or loans.
” I sigh. “Cory’s an observant guy, so he asked me about it.
Asked if I was in any trouble or I needed help. ”
“He’s a pretty nice guy.”
“Yeah, except that I was mortified,” I laugh. “Even after opening my bank app, I couldn’t convince him I wasn’t in some kind of terrible debt. It was like he thought I was being threatened by the mob or something. So I ended up telling him about my sister.”
I pause, leaning into Naz’s touch. “I know it’s probably dumb. It’s been almost fifteen years, and she’s never called even once. It’s just become a habit to answer the phone now.”
Naz cups my jaw and holds my face so he can look straight at me. “There’s nothing dumb about holding out hope for something you care about.”
“I care about you,” I say honestly, my heart taking up too much room in my chest. “If it had come down to my phone or keeping my job protecting you, I would have chosen you.”
I would have handed it over, gotten rid of the number, whatever it took.
I don’t know if this is the right time to say it.
I don’t know what’s happening between us or if Naz is ready for anything more than the strict parameters of the relationship we’ve cultivated over the last year, but it needed to be said.
I can’t hold it in anymore, not after everything that’s happened.
At first all Naz does is blink at me, but then his brow furrows. “Wait… You just said if it had come down to it. And we haven’t even gotten to… Scott, what exactly happened today?”
Naz pushes himself up, forcing me to do the same, awkwardly adjusting so we’re not tangled together anymore.
I stand and pull my pants up, but leave them unzipped, and sit facing Naz on the other side of the couch.
Even the few feet between us feels like too much, but it seems like our bubble might have popped, as if we’d momentarily forgotten all the events that led us here today.
“Long story short… Blake and Cory came up with a plan to catfish whoever’s been texting me. And it didn’t work.”
“Wait, so you weren’t really stealing Blake’s laptop?”
“Well, I did steal his laptop and his work badge. But he was aware it was going to happen. At least, I’m ninety-eight percent sure he did.”
“Okay. I’m going to need you to tell me everything.”
Earlier that afternoon:
“I’ll do whatever it takes to protect him, Emmy.”
Whatever it takes.
His bright blue eyes on mine are clear and serious. I think he understands my meaning.
Emmy nods but doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he steps forward and wraps me in a hug.
I shouldn’t be too shocked, Emmy hugs most of the guys, but he hasn’t hugged me before. He’s pretty tiny. My bulk is more than enough to shield him from the overhead camera in the corner, but I shift us the slightest bit to the left to be sure.
“Back left,” I whisper.
Even if this hug is a means to an end, it’s still strangely comforting. It’s almost like he’s actually hugging me while simultaneously picking my pocket.
“It’s all going to work out,” he murmurs, low enough that only I can hear. “One way or another.”
“I hope you’re right.”
He gives me a reassuring squeeze and looks up at me with a saucy expression. “I usually am.”
“So I hear.”
As I pull away from him, Emmy slides my phone smoothly into the front pocket of his chinos before he pats me on the shoulder.
“Hang in there, big guy.”
Then, with the theatrical timing worthy of an award, he wipes an imaginary tear from beneath one eye.
“I should go collect myself,” Emmy says, gesturing vaguely to the bathroom doors. “I’ll be right back. Take a seat, and Mr. Holland will be out shortly.”
Sinking into a chair in the small waiting room, I watch Emmy disappear into the restroom. It’s far too quiet, my thundering heartbeat filling the space and making me somehow more nervous. I rest my elbows on my knees and lace my fingers together, trying to keep them from shaking.
I hope this plan works. For sure, it’s a last resort, and I think Cory is putting a lot more faith in me than I deserve right now, counting on me to improvise.
The first part is done, I responded to the texter as Cory instructed.
I asked what they wanted and made them believe that their half-baked fireworks display frightened me enough to comply with their demands.
Except now they’ve asked for something and I’m not sure what, if anything, I’m supposed to do with that.
When I spoke to him early this morning after picking up a burner phone, Cory told me not to mention anything about my personal phone or the texts, just to hand it over to Emmy without being noticed, and they’d take care of getting the information they needed from it. Emmy made that part easy.
As far as I know, my job is done here.
Cory didn’t tell me what this meeting was supposed to be about or if Blake even knows about the texts.
All I really know is that I have to be careful about what I say, that we’re all pretending we don’t know that the whole office is being recorded.
I’m walking into the unknown here, and the longer it takes, the less confident I’m feeling.
The restroom door opens, and Emmy steps out, giving me an encouraging smile.
“How about I check and see if they’re ready for you?”
He disappears into Blake’s office, and I’m alone with my racing thoughts again. The seconds stretch into minutes. I’m sure he’s only gone for a moment, but it feels like longer.
Finally, the door opens again, and Emmy steps out. “Mr. Holland will see you now.”
Nodding, I stand and take a quiet, calming breath.
Blake is behind his desk, hands folded neatly in front of him, looking as unruffled and serious as always. Cory stands near the windows overlooking the city, arms at ease behind his back. Both of their expressions are unreadable.
“Scott,” Blake greets evenly. “Apologies for the wait. Please have a seat.”
“Yes, sir.”
I lower myself into the chair across from his desk, perching at the end with my elbows on my knees. Then I shift back, trying to look more casual, like I haven’t just walked into a lion’s den.
Something presses lightly against my hip. Glancing down, I notice my phone tucked neatly into the side of the cushion, hidden just well enough that it would be unnoticeable if I hadn’t practically sat on it.
My eyes flick instinctively to Cory, who gives the slightest tilt of his head. I suppose that means they got what they needed?
“So,” Blake begins, returning my attention to him. “Let’s discuss your conduct.”
I blink. “I beg your pardon?”