Chapter 22 #3
“You want to stay at my place?” The words come out before I can stop them. “I have a spare bedroom.” I really don’t like the idea of Iris being alone tonight.
Iris blinks, clearly surprised. “Oh, Eve, that’s really sweet of you, but I don’t want to impose—”
“How long have you been sleeping in hotels?” I interrupt, studying her face.
She looks away briefly. “Just... a couple times a week. When he gets like this, I choose to sleep in hotels instead.”
That hits me harder than I expected. Iris fleeing her own home when Richard gets aggressive. This sharp, decisive woman I work with every day has been bouncing between hotels to escape her own boyfriend. It’s not like her at all.
“Iris.” I lean forward in the metal chair. “That’s not sustainable.”
She lets out a bitter laugh. “Tell me about it. My credit card bill is already screaming at me.”
I’m beginning to understand what she means earlier about relationships being complicated. From the outside, it looks so simple: just leave the asshole. But sitting here, seeing the exhaustion in her eyes, the way she’s been slowly retreating from her own life... It’s messier than I thought.
“Look, you can crash at my place,” I say, meaning it. “Nobody has to know, and I live alone, anyway. The spare room is just sitting there empty.”
She hesitates, and I can see her weighing it. “What about Caleb?”
My face feels hot. “He can stay at his own place tonight.”
“Eve, I really don’t want to put you out—”
“You’re not putting me out. Seriously.”
She considers this for a moment, then nods firmly. “Okay. Thank you. Really.”
I stand up, pushing the metal chair back. “Do you want to get a drink, though? You look like you could use a drink or two.”
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” Iris says immediately, her face brightening for the first time since Richard left.
We gather our things in comfortable silence. I wouldn’t say Iris and I are close friends. We’re friendly enough from working together, but we’ve never really hung out outside the office.
“Ready?” I ask, slinging my bag over my shoulder.
“More than ready.” She locks her office door with decisive force. “I need to get out of this building before I lose my mind completely.” We head toward the elevator, and I can’t help but notice how Iris straightens her shoulders as we walk, like she’s shedding the weight of the day with each step.
“Where do you want to go?” she asks as we wait for the elevator.
“We could go to a bar near my place. It’s within walking distance, or...” I pause, thinking. “We could pick up some drinks and food and bring them back to my apartment. Might be more comfortable.”
“Let’s pick up some things,” Iris says without hesitation. “I’m not really in the mood to be around people right now.”
The elevator dings, and we step inside. “Perfect. There’s a good liquor store and a deli on my block.”
“Wine and takeout sounds like exactly what I need,” Iris says, and when I glance at her, she looks relaxed.
Outside, the evening air is crisp, and I can already taste the freedom of being away from that suffocating office. “You know,” Iris says as we start walking, “I can’t remember the last time I had a girls’ night.”
“When was the last time you did anything just for you?”
She’s quiet for a moment, her expression hardening. “Honestly? I don’t remember. Richard doesn’t really like it when I go out without him.”
Of course he doesn’t. “Well, Richard’s not invited.”
“Thank god for that,” she mutters, and I can’t help but grin.
Twenty minutes later, we’re driving through the city.
Iris is telling me about some ridiculous email exchange she had with the warehouse manager when I spot something that makes me slow down the car.
As we pass a bar called Sip and Dip, I see a familiar figure standing in the parking lot next to a sleek black luxury car.
Megan.
But she’s not alone. She has her hands planted firmly on her hips, clearly in the middle of a heated argument with a man who towers over her.
He’s got at least six inches and fifty pounds on her, his bulk making her look even smaller than she already is.
Even from this distance, I can see the tension in both their stances, the way they’re squared off against each other like they’re about to come to blows.
I slow my car, squinting through the windshield to get a better look.
“What’s wrong?” Iris asks, following my gaze.
“That’s Caleb’s sister,” I say quietly, pulling closer to the curb.
That’s when I see the full picture, and my stomach drops.
The luxury car’s windshield is completely smashed, spider-webbed glass hanging in dangerous sheets.
All four tires are flat, the two I can see slashed to ribbons.
And beside the man arguing with Megan, there’s a woman holding a tire iron like she knows how to use it.
“Something’s wrong,” I whisper.
I fumble for my phone, dialing Caleb’s number. It goes straight to voicemail. Cursing under my breath, I undo my seatbelt and reach into the back seat, grabbing the aluminum baseball bat I keep there. Caleb has protested that I don’t need it, but I beg to differ.
Iris stares at me, eyes wide. “Why do you have a baseball bat in your back seat?”
I give her a smirk. “I’m a very small woman with a very big temper.” Before Iris can respond, I’m out of the car and crossing the street. I can hear her car door slam behind me, but I’m already focused on the scene unfolding ahead.
As I get closer, Megan’s voice carries across the pavement, dripping with that same cocky arrogance I know so well. “I don’t care, Tom. You think you can threaten me?” I raise my brows despite the situation. They really are related.
Bringing the baseball bat was definitely a good idea, I think grimly as I assess the situation. The woman beside Tom steps forward, brandishing the tire iron like a weapon. Her voice is rough, aggressive. “You fucked us over. Better fork over your cards, or I’ll take a shot at your kneecaps next.”
Megan laughs, and the sound is nearly psychotic. She sneers at them both. “Try it, bitch.”
The woman raises the tire iron, and I see her muscles tense. That’s when I step forward, setting the bat casually on my shoulder like I’m heading to practice. “I would put that down if I were you,” I say, my voice nonchalant. “She’s not alone.”
Megan spins around, her eyes wide. When they land on me, I see the recognition in her eyes. “Eve?”
“You good?” I ask slowly, my eyes on the woman with the tire iron. “Is this your car, Megan?”
“Yeah.” Megan eyes my baseball bat, and a smile curves her lips.
“Candy over here had a go at it because I cancelled the credit cards I gave my broke-ass boyfriend. Did I get that right, Tom?” She gives a sickly sweet grin at her ex-boyfriend.
“And Tom and Candy seem to think I owe them my cards. You know, because that makes perfect sense.”
“Well.” I look between the two. “Guess it’s two against two now.”
“Three,” Iris gasps, having run from the car. “Had to lock the car. You left the key in the cupholder. I’m so out of shape. What’s going on?”
“They’re trying to rob her—Megans’ ex and whoever this Jelly person is.”
“It’s Candy,” the woman hisses.
“Yes.” I roll my eyes. “Because I really care what your name is.”
“Come on, Candy,” Tom mutters, looking uneasy and grabbing the woman’s arm. “Let’s just go. I told you this was a bad idea.”
Candy shakes off his grip. “No. You promised me a trip. I’m getting our money.”
“You mean my money, you little freak,” Megan spits out.
“You gave it to him! It’s his!” Candy shrieks.
“Yeah,” Megan’s upper lips curls in disdain. “That’s not how it works, honey. He cheated on me and broke up with me. I took my money back.”
“It’s his money!” Candy screams out, waving the iron.
Before it can catch Megan in the face, I slam my bat against the tire iron mid-strike, forcing the woman to let go of it and sending it clattering to the ground. She scrambles to get it, but I kick it behind me. “I don’t think so.”
“This isn’t your fucking business!” Candy tries to shove me, but I put the bat between us, pointed at her chest.
“Yeah, well, I just made it my business. I’m rude like that. Back off, Candyland, before I break your nose.”
When Candy darts towards Megan, Iris blocks her path with a frown. “Try me.”
Tom pulls her back and looks uncertain. “Look, we just want the cards, Megan. You’re fucking loaded. You won’t miss a few grand.”
“No.” Megan crosses her arms over her chest. “And I’m going to be going to the police about my new car that you just wrecked. My big brother bought it for me, and you ruined it. He’s going to have your asses, or the police will. Whoever gets to you first.”
I can see from Candy’s eyes, she’s nowhere near done, but Tom’s the weak link. His face goes pale, and I interject, “They’re on their way, Megan. I called Caleb when I saw you. They should be here in five minutes.”
“Fuck,” Tom is beginning to sweat. “Let’s go, Candy!”
“No!” She struggles in his hold. “I want my fucking money! You ugly bitch! He cheated on you because he said fucking you was like fucking a cold dead fish!”
Instead of being insulted, Megan plays her fingers through her short hair. “Has some experience in that, does he?”
Tom flushes. “I don’t—”
“I don’t care where you stick your dick, Tom. It’s not my fucking business. My money is. I’m going to get my money back one way or another. Even if I have to harvest your organs for it.”
Iris flinches at the ruthless threat, and Tom steps back. “T-that’s illegal.”
“So is smashing up someone’s car and stealing,” Megan shrugs. “That didn’t stop you, did it?”
“They stole from you, too?” I question.
“He took out money with one of my debit cards before I could cancel it,” Megan says calmly. “Six grand.”
“Come on, Candy!” Tom begins dragging her into the bar while she struggles. Megan waves her fingers at them. “My lawyer will call you, Tom!”
The door slams shut behind them, and for a moment, there’s silence. Then Iris asks slowly, “You aren’t actually going to harvest their—”
“Oh, god, no.” Megan gives her a mildly disgusted look. “I hate the sight of blood.” She looks towards her car, sighing heavily. “And that was brand new.”
“You okay?” I ask her, concerned.
“Yeah.” She grins at me. “They lured me here, and then the crazy bitch went to town on my car. Ethan’s going to be so mad. His insurance is going to go up.”
I shake my head at her urgently, but Iris has already heard.
“Ethan? Ethan Wilder is your brother?” Her eyes narrow at Megan.
“Megan Wilder,” Iris repeats slowly, like she’s testing the name on her tongue.
Her gaze bounces between Megan and me, and I can practically see the wheels turning. “But you said she was Caleb’s sister.”
My pulse stutters. I glance at Megan, who’s looking between us with dawning comprehension.
“Oh, shit,” Megan says, realizing what just happened.
“Wait.” Iris’s voice hardens as she processes what she just heard. “If Ethan Wilder is your brother, and Caleb is your brother, too, then...” Her eyes widen in realization. “Caleb is a Wilder.”
I wince. “You should talk to Natalie about this.”
“I should talk to Natalie?” Iris’s voice rises with anger. “Eve, what is going on? What aren’t you telling me? How long have you known about this? Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shake my head. “I wanted to tell you, but I wasn’t allowed.” But Iris is too smart. I watch her face change as she pieces it together, her expression shifting from confusion to understanding to something that looks like horror.
“If he wanted to join the Marketing Department, he would have no reason to hide his surname, unless he’s there for a different reason,” she says quietly, her voice growing tense. “He’s looking for the mole.” She stares at me intently. “How did you know who he really was?”
I take a deep breath. There’s no point in lying now. “I knew Caleb from college. We went to Grandview International together. I was about to tell you his real name that first day when Caleb warned Natalie. That’s why she called me to her office.”
The betrayal in Iris’s eyes cuts deep. “You’ve been lying to me this entire time.”
“I couldn’t tell you. Natalie made it clear I would lose my job.”
I watch Iris process everything, her face shifting from confusion to understanding to something that looks like hurt.
“Natalie never said a word to me,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. “Does that mean she suspected me?”
“I don’t think so, but you should talk to Natalie. She can explain why she kept it from you.”
I look at the broken glass scattered around Megan’s car. “Do you want to call the police and a tow truck?” I ask, gesturing toward her destroyed car.
“I’m going to have my brothers handle it,” she says with a shrug. “I have four brothers. They should be useful for something.”
“Can I drop you somewhere then?”
“Where are you guys heading to?”
“We were planning to get some drinks and maybe some food,” I say, reaching for my phone.
Caleb doesn’t answer the phone again, and I sigh.
He must be in his meeting. I drop him a quick text about what happened and make sure to let him know Megan’s safe before I tuck my phone in my pocket. “So, what will it be?”
“I could get drunk,” Megan ponders. “Alcohol sounds fun.”
“We might just go to my place, though,” I warn.
“I like your place.” She loops her arm around mine. “Come on. I’ll buy.”
I exchange a look with Iris who shrugs, mouthing, ‘I don’t mind.’
As we head towards my car, I hope Caleb picked up his underwear from the bathroom floor this morning like I told him to. The last thing I need is his sister to see them.