15. Vincent
If Wendy believed this little stunt she pulled at the hotel room last night would deter me from winning her back, she was dead wrong. After Wendy left, I jumped into the shower, turning the water to boiling, wanting to melt my skin down to the bone. Once the water had turned from scalding to tepid, I climbed out, skin raw, nerves frayed, but resolve hardened. As I dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and a white button-down shirt, I stared at my reflection in the steam-clouded mirror. The man staring back was a hardened version of the one who had left Wendy. More worry lines on my forehead, deeper clefts around my mouth, and shadows under my eyes that hadn't been there before. My hair, which used to be thick and black, was now peppered with strands of grey.
As I buttoned up my shirt, I thought about the mess I had gotten myself into. Three years ago, the threats were becoming too big, too large, too out of control. They had started about a year before I decided to leave Wendy that night. It began with strange, silent calls to my work phone and soon personal cell. Then, there were pictures. And not just any pictures. Images that hauled me back to a time I wanted to forget. A time when I was not the man Wendy fell in love with but a man who would do anything to get ahead, no matter the cost. With Each threat, there was an anonymous note warning Wendy would be next if I didn't comply. But comply with what? I had no idea what that maniac had meant. I knew the person behind the threats but hadn’t a clue where he lived at the time.
The world of dirty deals and shady characters, a life I had left behind, only to be caught up in it again. But it wasn't self-pity that gripped me; it was determination—a fierce resolve to set things right. What would Wendy even think when she learned I returned to my old ways?
My phone rang, snapping me out of my daze, and I reached for it, seeing Zachary’s name appear.
Fuck.
I answered on the fourth ring, noting it was almost ten at night. “Hey, Zach.”
“Did you see Wendy?”
“Yes, I did.” There was no point in lying, not that I’d lie to Zachary about this anyway.
“How did it go?”
“It went.” I walked over to the cold glass, leaning against it, watching the dark ocean crash against the shore. “She left me. I think she was trying to teach me a lesson.”
“She left you? Like for good?” Zachary’s voice kicked up an octave.
“No, Romeo. Sorry to break it to you.” I rolled my eyes. “She needs time to think.”
“And you gave it to her?”
“I didn't have much of a choice.” I ran a hand through my damp hair, pressing the phone harder against my ear. “I’m willing to do anything to make this right. After how I fucked everything up? I mean, she is safe. So, there’s that. I guess what I did was worth it because here we are now. Alive.” And semi-miserable, I wanted to add.
There was a pause and then a sigh on the other end of the line. “You know you're crazy, right? This... whatever this is... it's not healthy.”
“You don’t think I fucking know that? And who are you to give me relationship advice?” I clenched my jaw, banging my head against the glass.
“What was that sound?”
“I’m trying to crack my head open.” I closed my eyes, only seeing Wendy and the final look she threw me over her shoulder before she walked out for the night. What the hell did I put her through? I was a fucking monster.
“Don’t bother. You won’t find anything in there.”
“Very funny.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, regretting taking this call. “So, did you just call to gossip or…”
“Can you meet me in Boston tomorrow morning at eight?”
“Boston?” I echoed, turning my back to the ocean view. “What's in Boston?”
“A business.” Zachary's voice was cryptic and full of weight. “It’s a gutted restaurant, renovations abandoned. I don’t know if it’s a sound investment.”
“And you want me to go with you?”
“Sure. I trust you.” Except, Zachary’s tone wasn’t too convincing. “Vincent, you owe me. Now, it’s time to help out.”
Oxygen hissed through my nostrils, dragging my free hand down my face. “Fine. Just send me the address, and I’ll meet you there.”
Without waiting for a response, I ended the call and immediately threw my phone on the vacant side of the bed. The device bounced once before settling amidst the untouched pillows. I threw myself back against the pancake pillows, my head creating a solid thud. Unreal, I thought. This was an expensive hotel, and they couldn’t even afford decent pillows. My body needed sleep, but I had no idea how to actually fall asleep with this much on my mind. I forced my eyes closed and prayed I’d get some sleep.
Sleep proved nothing but a pipe dream for my frazzled head.
The next morning promised nothing but gloom as continuous rain drummed against the hotel window. As I made my way down to the lobby and out into the downpour, wrapping myself closer within my coat, I took one last look at this damned city before setting off for Boston.
The drive was a blur—landscapes smeared by rain and fast-forwarded by speed. It didn’t matter; my mind was elsewhere. With every mile that passed under my wheels, Wendy’s face became more vivid in my mind’s eye. Would she be awake now? Maybe she'd be sipping coffee in her kitchen, watching the rain, her eyes tracing the droplets as they raced to reach the railing. Or maybe she'd be in bed still, curled up under the thick duvet, her peaceful sleeping face illuminated by the soft morning light.
“Damn it...” I murmured, slamming my hand against the steering wheel as I struggled to control my thoughts. I needed to focus on Zachary and this supposed business opportunity. If nothing else, it was a distraction. I followed navigation and arrived at the address fifteen minutes early. How Zachary described this place didn’t do it any justice. This restaurant wasn’t in the midst of a renovation. It was a straight-up, stripped-down dump.
I exited the car, my polished leather loafers meeting the cracked pavement as I viewed the dilapidated building. The once glistening glass window panes were caked in dust and smeared with hand prints of forgotten construction workers. The building's brick exterior was faded, its bright red hue stained by relentless weathering, a haunting reminder of its once vibrant existence.
“Vincent!” Zachary's voice echoed through the empty street as he approached me, his shoes crunching over shattered concrete underfoot. “You’re early.” Between his black trench coat and matching attire, hair slicked back more than normal, he resembled a walking devil.
“I’m never late.” I pulled my coat tighter as my breath pooled in clouds of white inches from my mouth. Nodding to the dilapidated structure, I raised a dissatisfied eyebrow in his direction. “This is your idea of 'sound investment'?” I asked incredulously.
He shrugged, pulling the collar of his coat higher against the harsh wind. “It has potential if you have a vision.”
I allowed myself a bitter chuckle at his optimistic outlook and walked toward the building. The inside was even worse than the outside. Broken chairs were scattered haphazardly throughout the space, shards of glass twinkling under the faint light that seeped through the grimy windows. The ceiling was stained with water damage, evidence of a leak left unattended for far too long. My mind instantly shot to mold. There was definitely mold behind the peeled-painted walls.
“Zachary,” I began, my voice echoing through the vacant space as I tried to hide the disgust that threatened to rise. “I've seen a lot of renovation projects, but this... This isn't a project. It's a nightmare.” I turned my neck and inch to the right to find Zachary but was stopped by a blinding pain, first aimed at my ear, shooting down my neck, causing me to contort and fall to my knees. I rocked back and forth, gripping the disturbed ear, wincing, and sucking in the cold air through my teeth. “Fuck! Fuck, what the fuck!” When I finally pried my eyes open, all I saw was Zachary looming over me with a look that was made to murder. “Why the fuck did you hit me?”
“Don’t you dare fuck up my life, you understand me?” Zachary’s tone rivaled the deadliest of ice storms, staring at me emotionless.
“What? What are you talking about?” I chased my breath while fighting off the burning sting, refusing to subside from the side of my head.
“Blair is still barely talking to me since the birthday party,” Zachary seethed, shoving his face inches from mine. “She doesn’t trust me now. Won’t forgive me for not telling her I’d been in touch with you these last few years.” Zachary straightened. “Fuck, you and I barely even spoke. It was just the occasional superficial drop-in, but she won’t hear any of it.”
I popped my brow, sitting up straight while still on the ground. “Look, Zach, I don’t know what to say anymore. I fucked up so many times I’m not even sure if saying sorry means anything to anyone anymore. But I’m determined to make things right with everyone again. Do you want me to talk to Blair and tell her it was all my fault?”
“Fuck you.” Zachary glared and started to walk away from me, heading toward the abandoned podium, splintered wood abound.
“Zachary, wait!” I called out, finally managing to regain balance. My head was pounding in echo with my pulse, but I brushed it off, focusing on catching up with Zachary. “I don’t think I ever said it before, but thank you for staying in touch with me all these years. You didn’t have to do anything, but you did. You’re a good friend even though you almost made me lose an ear just now.”
He turned sharply at that, his icy gaze fixed on me. “Does Wendy know what you do? That you’re back to your old ways with the poker games?”
My face dropped, forgetting about the throbbing ear. “I’m going to tell her. I will make this work with her, and she’ll see that I had no choice back then.”
“She probably gets it by now. But sometimes change just makes you want different things.”
I clenched my jaw, flexing my fists. It was working if Zachary wanted to tempt me to retaliate against him. Taking a step closer, unsure of my next move, I stopped when a large shadow crossed into the building, accompanied by its owner.
“Is that…” I craned my neck as I recognized our former Hulkish head of security at the poker games Zachary used to host. A life he abandoned once he committed to Blair.
Cyrus barreled in, his boots echoing through the barren building. A grave expression settled on his rugged features, shadowing the normally jovial lines around his mouth. “Vincent.” he half grinned. “Heard you were back in town.”
“Cyrus,” I replied, forcing a casualness into my tone that didn't align with the tension in my chest. “Yeah, I’m back.”
Zachary took a step back, his gaze darting between us. His brow furrowed—not in worry, but in calculation. Zachary’s mind was always working on the next move ahead of everyone else’s—a trait that made him both an asset and a threat.
“You brought security with you?” I laughed, pointing to a not-so-smiling Cyrus.
“I’m his friend, Vincent. And Zachary asked me to come,” Cyrus continued, folding his bulky arms over his chest.
“Right…” My eyes darted between Zachary and Cyrus, not believing either guy. “Well, this was fun. Always great seeing Boston…and you.” I cracked my neck, backing away from both men. “I’ll be in touch, okay?”
“Vincent,” Zachary said, stepping closer and reaching out a hand. “If you mess this up, Blair will never forgive me. She already blames me for setting Wendy up for imminent heartbreak 2.0 because I gave you a clue to her whereabouts.”
“I promise. I won’t let anyone down. You have my word.” I slapped my hand against my chest just to prove my point.
“Good,” he replied. “Because if you do, I will kill you.”