9. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Summer
My eyes slowly open, and I quickly glance at the clock on my nightstand: nine o’clock. It’s Friday morning. Dread washes over me, and I close my eyes, hoping I can drift back to sleep for the rest of the day.
It’s useless. There is no way I can go back to sleep knowing my mother’s funeral is tomorrow, and I have to start applying for jobs to save for my own apartment. I can’t live with Dad forever, and I need to start figuring out where I belong and what I was born to do.
Yet… I can’t seem to force myself out of bed.
A yawn falls from my mouth, and I rub the sleep from my eyes. I move onto my back and stare at the ceiling, which is a regular routine nowadays.
A light knock sounds on the door. It’s Dad. I know it is. We’re the only ones here now, and I want nothing more than to ignore him. I don’t think I can look at him the same after what he implied about my mother—his wife.
What did he mean when he said he was looking out for me the way she couldn’t? She’s my mom… I thought she kicked ass raising me. So, what is it that I don’t know?
Those questions have me climbing out of bed and answering the door. My eyes meet my father’s narrowed ones and drift to a plate of eggs, sausage, and toast in his hand. But that’s not what surprises me.
He’s not in his uniform. His face is freshly shaved and his neat gray hair is washed.
“You didn’t come down for dinner last night, so I brought you breakfast.”
“Thanks.” I take the plate from his hands. It smells good. Better than the sloppy pancakes he tried to make.
“May I come in?” he asks.
I nod, taking a seat on the edge of my bed, creating a dip in the mattress that hugs my sides.
The air between us grows heavy as we both remain silent. I want to say more than what I have, but it’s hard for me. The words are stuck in my throat. After what he said last night, I know that I’m not the one who should start the conversation, though.
Five minutes. That’s how long it feels like until he finally takes two significant strides and sits down next to me. A whiff of his cinnamon aftershave goes through my nostrils, and I cringe.
I always hated that scent. Not that it doesn’t smell good. It does, but it’s so essential. Every older man uses the same aftershave.
I stare at the food on the plate and wait for him to tell me what he wants to. He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have something to say. An apology would be nice.
It’s as if he read my mind because he sighs and says, “I’m sorry, Summer.” There’s a short pause before he continues. “Life is hard. Expensive. As a father, I want nothing more than for you to succeed in the world we live in. And your mother… she didn’t have the best options for you. She failed in that area, which led me to pick up the pieces.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, my heart growing heavier with each beat. “I’m sorry for raising my voice… and calling you a prick, Dad. You’re not. You’re a great father, and I just…”
I stop because I don’t know what else to say. Instead, I shake my head because giving him that is better than giving him nothing.
The light pressure of my father’s hand on my lower back brings me slight comfort.
“Your mother was a handful, princess. She struggled with severe depression and oftentimes couldn’t get out of bed. I didn’t want you to see her that sad.”
It hurts that I never noticed that Mom was depressed. Maybe if I didn’t spend so much time at the mall with Chloe, I would have.
I stare at the ceiling and think for a moment. “Mom was wonderful to me.”
“Yes. She was,” he agrees.
I don’t understand what he is trying to say.
His thumb moves back and forth on my back in short motions until he takes my plate from my hands and places it on my desk. When he sits back down, I adjust myself so one leg is propped on my bed and the other dangles off the edge.
My eyes meet his, and he gives a warm half-smile before looking away.
“For a while, your mother and I were very unhappy. She wanted nothing more than to see you graduate and go to college. But once you left, things between us got worse. There are things about your mother that you don’t know.”
My eyes narrow. “Like what?”
He sighs heavily. “After trying multiple different medications, she didn’t want to live the way she was anymore. The doctor recommended CBD. Do you know what that is?”
I nod. My lungs pinch, making it harder to breathe.
What is he trying to say?
“Well, when that didn’t help… she went out of her way and started looking for something else to take the pain away.”
I close my eyes, my stomach suddenly cramping. I shake my head repeatedly. “No.”
“Honey, she got herself caught up with some bad people. We don’t know who yet, and that is what we’re trying to find out. I only have so much information.”
“Are you telling me Mom was doing drugs?”
He doesn’t say anything, and that is enough for me.
This is impossible. My mother would never.
“Sweetheart, listen. This is just as hard for me… one day, I came home from work early. I wanted to surprise her. Hoping that it could help our relationship and get our marriage back on the right path. Unfortunately, when I came home, I heard noises coming from our room. She was in bed with another man.” He’s speaking so bluntly.
My head shoots in his direction, and my mouth hangs open. So wide, I can probably catch a fly… or two. Dad’s gray, thick brows narrow as he turns his head to me. Sincerity fills his deep brown eyes, and I can tell he’s telling me the truth.
“I didn’t want to tell you this way. Honestly, I didn’t want to tell you at all,” he explains.
My throat is so dry that my voice is hoarse. “What happened?”
He brings his thumb to my cheek, running it back and forth, and gives me a sad smile. “Well, I lost my temper and told them both to get out of the house,” he confesses. His voice is full of regret as he continues. “That night, she was found dead. We don’t know if the guy she was with had anything to do with her murder. He wasn’t at the scene, but we questioned him anyway. My boss wants to close the case. We are at a dead end.”
I find myself staring blankly at my feet. There’s a sharp, persistent pain in the center of my chest. My breathing increases as his words repeat over and over again in my mind.
Someone killed my mother, and they want to close the case.
Her murderer is still out there.
They can’t close the case.
I have no control over the quivering of my chin and the tears that escape from my eyes. I do everything I can to avoid them, but it’s no use. I can’t talk, I can’t breathe. I can’t see. Everything is blending together, and I can’t get ahold of myself.
Dad pulls me into his arms. The warmth from his body surrounds me as he hugs me tight. It’s only soothing for a quick second.
“I can assure you, I am doing everything I can to figure it out. Even if they do close the case, I won’t stop until I find out who killed my wife.” He presses a soft kiss on the top of my head.
My mouth is parched, and every breath I try to take feels like I’m pushing sandpaper into my esophagus. My chest is so tight the pain is shooting down my left arm. The room is spinning. I feel like I’m about to collapse any second.
I need to get out of here.
As soon as Dad slowly releases me from his hold, I scramble to my feet.“I-I-I need some air,” I stutter between short gasps.
He calls out my name, but I don’t look back. I can’t look back. My mind is hazy, my chest is so tight. Everything is a blur. I need to get out of this house, and away from everything that reminds me of what once was.
At least for the time being.
***
If I could teleport back in time with the knowledge I have now, I would do everything in my power to help Mom. Knowing that she cheated on Dad really hurts. It hurts so bad that I don’t know if I can fully recover. I believe that if she wasn’t so sad all the time, she wouldn’t have taken that path and she would still be alive. But I can’t change the past. So, I know in my heart I need to move forward and accept the truth. There is no other option.
Air enters my lungs, bringing me into a more peaceful state of mind. The last thing I want to do is dwell on everything in my life.
I don’t want to think about how Dad has always been the one to decide everything for me.
I don’t want to think about Mom’s death.
I don’t want to think about how I’m jobless and have zero idea what career path I want to take.
I want to believe that I am young enough and have time to figure out who I am.
Once my breathing is back to normal, I pull my phone out of one pocket and my headphones out of the other and slip one earbud in my ear. My mind casually drifts to Alec.
I think about his love for music and why he loves playing so much.
All of it helps me escape the fucked-up world I live in.
It isn’t until now that I realize how much that truly resonates with me. Music is a way to escape. The words so beautifully written, inspiring myself and cleansing my soul.
But I can’t help but wonder what happened in his life that makes him feel like he needs to escape. What makes him think his life is so messed up?
And why am I so drawn to him?
Even though my panic attack subsided, my throat is still parched. I’m mad at myself because I didn’t think to grab water, but luckily, I’m right by Walmart.
After looking both ways, I cross the street and head into the parking lot. I wait for the car that’s coming to a stop before I hurry across the parking lot. My boots pound against the pavement with each stride, but as I reach the doors, my steps slow down when I see that familiar sleeveless leather jacket and dark hair. He’s wearing sunglasses this time, probably to draw less attention.
The last thing I wanted was to run into Alec again.
It shouldn’t surprise me that he goes to the supermarket too. I mean, he has to live. What does surprise me is that I was thinking about him and then here he is. It’s almost like the universe is purposely bringing us together. A smile forms on my face from the thought, but I force it away trying my hardest not to feel warm and fuzzy.
But truthfully, I do feel every bit warm and fuzzy.
Nibbling on my bottom lip, I take a few steps closer. I’m not sure what I’d accomplish by walking up to him, but a part of me really wants to hear his voice again. I stop when I notice Samantha running out of the store and stopping beside him. She passes him a clear plastic bag with children’s toys inside. Confusion stirs in my belly. When I see his head turn to look both ways, I take a step off to the side to go unnoticed.
I watch them walk to the car closest to the store. Alec leans in and gives Samantha a quick side hug. I can see his lips move from where I’m standing. She throws her head back in a laugh. A strange sensation bubbles up in my stomach, causing an unsettling feeling. I’m angry at myself because there is no way I should be jealous when I hardly know Alec. And I’m far from ready to dive into a relationship with somebody, let alone a lead singer.
Samantha’s golden-brown hair moves along with her arm as she lifts it and gives a small wave before walking across the parking lot toward a silver Corolla and getting inside.
Despite knowing I should ignore Alec and go inside the store, I can’t. There is a strange part of me that can’t resist the temptation to approach him.
No, Summer. Turn around and ignore him.
I should listen to my inner voice. She’s pretty logical.
But instead of doing that, I start walking toward the white Nissan he’s standing next to, leaving me inches away from him. My heart shoots to the center of my throat as I wrap the cord to my headphones and stuff them into my pocket.
My steps slow, and I wait a minute, wondering if he even noticed me, but when he puts the toys in the back seat of the car and closes the door, he moves toward the driver’s side, and I know he doesn’t realize that I’m here.
I should have listened to my inner voice. I should turn around before he gets into the car and backs out of the parking spot. But I don't until my eyes move to the ground. My heart nearly stops, realizing that I am still in my pajamas. Light purple pajamas with polka dots on them… this is embarrassing and most definitely not how I want to walk up to Alec Sokolov. Now is a good time to walk away before he notices me.
I’m such an idiot.
Right when I pivot on my heels, his voice causes me to halt.
“Stalking again, Sunshine?”
I freeze mid-turn and make a face. What do I do? Shit . I almost want to keep walking and pretend I didn’t hear him, but I do the complete opposite. I turn back around and face him. The corner of his mouth tilts up. His eyes trail over me, and I’m left wanting to sink into a puddle.
I raise my hand in an awkward wave, hating that I did that. The loose gravel under my feet crunches as I close the rest of the space between us, stopping inches away from where he’s leaning against the car.
“I went to grab something to drink, and when I saw you, I…” My voice shakes, and I close my mouth, feeling like the world’s stupidest person alive.
His lips form an upside-down smile, and he nods his head as if he doesn’t believe me.
I wouldn’t believe me either.
Dread hits me in the gut when I see how much I really do look like a stalker. I can feel the dryness in my mouth increasing, and I nervously bite my bottom lip, rocking back and forth on my heels. A mix of embarrassment and regret fills me up.
Say something, Summer. You did this to yourself.
I sigh. “I, um, wanted to apologize to you.”
He crosses his arms, giving me a better view of the swirls of tattoos that cover his arm. “Apologize for what?” he asks.
“My father.” I press my lips together, even more ashamed.
Maybe I deserve to feel that way. All the decisions I've made lately haven't been the brightest.
He removes his sunglasses, hooking them into the collar of his white shirt. The sun beams down, brightening his gray eyes. The look on his face creates swirls in my belly.
His eyes narrow as he studies me and pushes himself off the car. “Look, you really don’t have to explain anything.”
“No, I think I do.”
I get the impression that he’s contemplating something, but it doesn’t take him much longer to say, “Well, if you insist. Would you be willing to help me with something? You can explain on the way.”
I make a quick glance at my pajamas and hesitate. He watches me closely, waiting. When my eyes meet back with his, I blow out a long breath and shrug. I shouldn’t care if I’m in my pajamas.
Between the adrenaline, and wanting to be around Alec I nod and get into his car.
***
How did I go from a college student busting my ass off every day to a dropout sitting in a car with a band member creeping at a house from the side of the road?
My life has officially taken twenty steps backward, and I’m not entirely sure why I’m OK with that.
I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be famous. Granted, Alec isn’t worldwide famous, but he is popular around here. I assume they get what they want when they want it and don’t let a single person stand in the way. But despite that, with where I am right now, it seems like Alec is just another person, also needing to fight for what he wants.
I still don’t know him well enough to determine if that is the case, but my gut instinct has never failed me before.
I hadn’t pictured Alec as the type to sit back and watch someone else’s house. He’s always telling me I’m the one stalking. Perhaps he is the stalker, and I’m setting myself up with a secret serial killer.
Why does that give me a rush?
This entire situation should worry me, but it doesn’t. Maybe deep down, I know he can’t possibly be a serial killer. Either way, he’s taking stalking to a whole new level, and that is something I’m not too sure I’m OK with.
I mean, my father is a cop.
Dread slams me in the gut, knowing how furious and disappointed he’d be if he saw me with Alec right now… stalking, nonetheless. But that dread starts disappearing the more I think about it, replaced with… excitement.
I am realizing that I’ve always lived my life constantly being a “good girl.” Never experiencing anything so exhilarating. And truthfully, I have always been afraid.
I’m being ridiculous. Why would Alec want to tag me along for whatever this we’re doing when he knows damn well my father is a police officer, and we could end up being in trouble for this?
Granted, I’m positive my father would only give me a slap on the wrist, but certainly not Alec.
Yet… here I am, going along with whatever crazy plan Alec has, hiding and keeping watch over this beautiful, up-kept house with perfect green grass.
I had dreams growing up, and I like to think that I still do. But all of this is not how I pictured my life turning out.
My stomach grumbles loud, and I pretend I didn’t hear it, let alone feel it.
Why did I agree to this? I’m starving.
As if Alec was reading my mind, he breaks the silence and says, “Your stomach is yelling at you.”
Placing a hand over my belly, I feel another round of rumbles. “I didn’t eat breakfast.”
He hums. “We’ll grab something to eat after this.”
I nod, trying to act as though that offer doesn’t affect me the way it does. I change the subject. “Can I ask what exactly we are doing?” If I’m here to ‘help’ him with something, I need to know what I’m supposed to be helping with.
He doesn’t look at me when he says, “We’re waiting.” His voice is a low whisper as if the house can hear him. I am even more confused now, but I nod my head anyway, somehow being OK with going along with whatever this is.
“What exactly are we waiting for?”
Rather than answering me, he keeps his eyes trained on the house. His gaze is unwavering. I know he’s waiting for something or someone, and it’d be much easier if he would just tell me.
What is so special about this house?
Minutes pass, and I break the silence once again. “I knew you were the stalker,” I tease and nudge him in the arm.
Although he doesn’t move his eyes, his smile sends a clear message. Silence falls again, and I hate that he hasn’t said much. It’s slightly aggravating.
“You sort of met my father. What makes you think I won’t call him and tell him you’re watching someone else’s house?”
“Because I know you won’t.” He then side-eyes me quickly before rolling his eyes back to the house.
My eyebrows fall, and I open my mouth to say something, but I’m not sure what to say. So, I close my mouth and think, trying to figure out how he could assume that I wouldn’t call my dad when we barely know each other.
The car is quiet except for the faint sound of our breathing. I keep my attention solely on him, trying to understand him. All the while, my mind races with a million thoughts.
Maybe he really is a serial killer, after all.
He sighs as if he can sense what I am feeling and looks at me. “I knew your father was a cop.”
“You knew?” My eyebrows shoot to my hairline. “So, let me get this straight. You knew my father was a police officer, and you still decided to talk to me, take me for coffee, and now sit here where we could potentially wind up with a restraining order?”
“Yeah.” He says it as if I shouldn’t be surprised.
Well, I am. I am very surprised.
When he looks back at the house, my eyes follow. He lifts his tattooed arm and points. “Right there is the biggest secret I have.”
A middle-aged woman with curly light brown hair opens the door to usher another woman into the home. From where we are parked, I can see her mouth lift into a smile before stepping outside and getting into the SUV parked in the driveway. Alec watches as this woman backs out of the driveway and drives in the opposite direction from where we are parked.
“Who’s house is it?” I ask curiously.
“My aunt’s,” he says without hesitation. His head turns towards me and then he leans back enough so that his arm can grab ahold of the baby doll and stroller he purchased at the store. “Are you ready?”
I swallow, still unsure what we’re doing. If this is his aunt’s house, why do we have to be sneaky? Something isn’t adding up.
“Do I have a choice?”
He smirks. “Everyone has a choice. Come on.”
We get out of the car, and I trail behind Alec as he jogs across the quiet street. The sound of his sneakers pounding on the pavement is the only sound I hear. We reach the driveway, and the scent of freshly cut grass fills my nose as we walk toward the back of the house and stop at the back door.
I don’t understand why we don’t just go to the front, but I think it’s safe to say that I should ask questions later. With the toys cradled in one arm, Alec raises his other arm to knock on the door.
Seconds pass before the woman who entered through the front door appears, her fiery red curls dancing in the wind from the short breeze. She peaks her head out, looking from one side of us to the other, worry crossing her features.
She steps aside for us to pass. I follow Alec.
As soon as the door closes, the woman says, “Alec, if I lose my job because of you, I swear to God I will hunt you down.”
My eyes narrow, and I glance back and forth between them, hoping for someone to give me an explanation about what the hell is going on. But I don’t get one.
“Terry, I promise it’ll be quick this time.”
Terry rolls her eyes, and a soft pitter-patter of footsteps sounds through the house as a little girl runs from the living room into the kitchen where we are.
“Alec!” she shouts.
Alec turns his body and crouches down to her level. She jumps into his arms, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. Her long hair tickles Alec’s nose, and she giggles.
I watch carefully, still uncertain.
“Hey, peanut. Happy birthday,” Alec says, eagerly waiting for her reaction to the toys in his hand. “I didn’t have time to wrap it, but I hope you like it.”
Her eyes shoot open, and a huge smile is pasted across her face as she grabs the baby doll and hugs the box.
This explains why he bought toys, at least.
“I love it!” she shouts, dropping the box onto the tile floor. “I miss you.”
“I know. I miss you too.”
The little girl pulls Alec’s arm impatiently. “I want to show you something.”
Alec allows her to pull him into the living room, and I’m not sure if I should stay put or follow along. I decide to move at least into the home fully.
Terry comes behind me, catching my attention. “He’s never been good at introducing people. Hi, I’m Callie’s babysitter.”
Callie.
I give her a soft smile. “Summer.”
“It’s very nice to meet you.”
“You too,” I respond, my eyes drifting back to where Alec and this little girl—Callie—are playing inside a small blow-up ball pit. I’m trying to make sense of this and failing. So, I watch them play for a few minutes, keeping to myself. But as I really look at Callie, my eyebrows crease. Her hair color matches Alec’s, and her skin is just as tan as his.
My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach, and panic begins to claw at my throat.
Holy shit.
Is this… his daughter?
I’m very accepting, but if he has to sneak around to visit his daughter, he’s far from what I thought, and I shouldn’t be here. My father calling Alec a lowlife crosses my mind, and everything starts to make sense.
I should have known from the start that this guy isn’t as dreamy and perfect as I thought he was and that he would have just as much baggage as the next person. This, though, is not something I should be wrapped up in.
Alec gives Callie a smile and holds her hand as they walk to me. “Callie, I want to introduce you to my friend, Summer.” He then looks at me. “Summer, this is my little sister.”
My eyes widen slightly, and I look at Callie. Her smile is so warm and inviting.
“Hi, Summer,” she says and waves her hand repetitively. “I like your jammies. Purple is my favorite color.”
And just like that, the panic stops.