Almost Beautiful, page 20
Travis looked over at us and shook his head, amused.
“I’ll come by before I head out.” She hugged me, kissed my cheek, and then disappeared behind the door.
My phone went off seconds later, signaling a text from America.
“Some things never change,” I said.
Proud of Travis. Didn’t mention your bikini once.
“You weren’t wearing that outside, were you?” Travis asked.
I giggled.
“What?” he asked.
I tossed him my phone, letting him read America’s text.
He let his head fall back, hating being a forgone conclusion just as I did. “Agh … I can’t help it. Look at you,” he said, pointing all ten fingers at me. He wrapped me in his arms again, showering my face and neck with tiny kisses. “It’s not easy having a wife this beautiful.”
I’d never felt particularly attractive, especially being around America all afternoon in a bikini, looking like a super model. But Travis made me feel like I was not just the most beautiful woman in the world, but the only one.
“Get used to it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How’s Trent? Did you stop by?”
“No, he was discharged earlier this afternoon. I figured we’d stop by after dinner. He’s staying with Dad while Cami’s at work.”
“Good plan,” I said, opening the cabinet. I scanned the cans of vegetables, trying to decide between corn, peas, or green beans. “What are we doing with the chicken?”
“I was just going to grill it.”
“So, corn and mashed potatoes, then?” I asked.
“Sounds good to me. Then Netflix and chill?”
I stared at him. “We are so boring.”
“I like boring. Boring is good.”
Someone pounded on the door, and I left Travis in the kitchen to answer. “Mare either forgot something, or it’s Marsha Becker.”
“Marsha Becker?” Travis asked, wrinkling his nose.
“If it’s her, you’ll figure out why real quick,” I said before twisting the knob and pulling on the door. “Hi.”
“Hi,” the man in front of me said, his mouth pulling into a devilish half-grin. His muscles were trying to bulge out of his shirt like Travis’s did, and he looked at me the way Travis used to look at everything with a vagina before he fell for me. “Is Travis around?”
“Brandon,” Travis said, immediately tense. “What are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d stop by,” he said, walking past me. He looked around, judging every corner of our apartment, then he scanned me from hair to toes. “To say hi again to the famous co-ed who tamed Travis Maddox.”
I crossed my arms over my middle, feeling his eyes pour over my every curve. It didn’t help that I was in a bikini top and cut-off shorts.
“Again?” Travis’s jaw ticked, his hands balled into fists.
If Brandon looked at me one more time, I was afraid Travis would attack him.
“Baby,” I said, walking around Travis until I was behind him. “We’re about to eat dinner. I didn’t realize your boss was coming over. It was nice to see you again, Brandon, but maybe another night?”
Brandon blinked, surprised by the rejection. “Uh … sure. Yeah, I apologize for the intrusion. I was just coming by to see a friend a few buildings over, and spur-of-the-moment decided to stop by.”
“Have a good afternoon,” I said with a forced smile.
“See you tomorrow, Trav.” His gaze fell on me. “Hope to see you again soon, Abby.”
Travis dipped his head once, watching Brandon leave like he was waiting for an assailant to make a move. The second the door closed, Travis turned to me asking, “Again?”
I shrugged, knowing if I told him in that moment, Travis would chase Brandon down in the parking lot. “We crossed paths after my meeting with Cami. Briefly. That’s it.”
His shoulders relaxed, and he exhaled. “Fuck me,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “That was almost bad.”
“What the hell was it?” I asked, walking over to twist the bolt lock.
“That was Brandon Kyle fucking with me.”
“You make him a lot of money. Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know,” Travis said, returning to the sink. He stared out the window, watching Brandon walk across the parking lot to the next building. “I have a feeling we’re going to find out.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Deep
Travis
“GREAT JOB. ONE MORE SET, Betty,” I said. “I mean, uh, Bett …” Two Bettys at the same time was confusing as fuck, so I started calling the white-haired one with the tight, short curls Bett. She nearly squealed every time I said her name, while the other—without fail—sighed with jealousy.
I crossed my arms and leaned back a bit to glance at Brandon.
He was a douchebag, doing douchebag things as he walked across his douchebag gym. He ogled a few women he knew were married, smacked a regular on the ass, because to anyone else it would be an acceptable good game. He finally ended up at reception, stepping behind Tiffany and wrapping both arms around her.
I could feel my heart rate pick up, and I began to sweat even though it had been two hours since I’d gotten my work out in. I’d never liked Brandon, but after his unexpected visit, I knew he was up to something and whatever he had planned wasn’t good. I tried not to assume it was to go after my wife.
Surely, he wasn’t that stupid, but Brandon never thought about anything beyond what he wanted. That made him dangerous, and the thought of him even attempting to bag my wife made me feel murderous.
“You okay, Travis?” Bett asked, putting down her five-pound dumb bells.
“Yeah?” I said, snapping out of it.
“You’re shaking, dearest. Do we need to take you for another meal? Are you not getting enough to eat?” the other Betty said with a smirk.
“That’s so nice of you to offer, ladies, but my wife feeds me very well.”
Bett frowned. “But you seem upset. Everything okay at home?”
“Everything is perfect at home.” I looked at my watch. “Okay, that’s it for today. See you Wednesday?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Bett said, glancing at my right bicep and then my groin before doing her best as a geriatric to walk seductively past me.
Brandon came up behind me and slapped my shoulder. “The old bats are shameless!” he said, chuckling. His expression turned serious. “When’s your next client?”
“Uh, twenty minutes.”
“Come to my office for a sec, would ya?”
I bristled. “Actually, I was going to run an errand on my break. Is it important?”
“I was just going to apologize for coming over unannounced, and ask if you and the wife would like to do dinner one night?”
“The day you came over was my last early day for a while. I’m working late the rest of the …” I trailed off, realizing too late my mistake.
“Gotcha. No worries, brother. We’ll figure it out.” He looked around for anyone who might be listening. “Hey, so … that fight, on the news.”
“What about it?”
“I hear you were there. I thought I should warn you. I was at poker night at Sig Tau and Parker was there. Losing. Drunk. Running his mouth to sound cool. You know how he is.”
“Warn me? About what?”
He grew serious. “He said that report in the school paper was bullshit.” After a few seconds he laughed once. “I mean, that’s what he said. He didn’t pull out any proof or anything. He said he was wishing someone would rat you out.” He made a face. “He’s too pussy to do it.”
“I wasn’t there, man. I don’t know what he’s talking about.”
Brandon smirked. “I mean, if you were, there’d be a hundred witnesses. People had their phones out.”
I glowered at him. “They can’t have proof if I wasn’t there.”
He grinned. “Sure. But ya know, if you need to talk about it, I’m here for you.”
I stared at him for a minute. “Yeah, I’ll uh … I’ll talk to Abby about dinner.”
“Yeah, yeah, you do that. Not sure if Becca can come, though, she’s been exhausted. I’ve been steering clear of the house. Christ, she’s been so damn whiny. I thought their bodies were built for that shit.”
“By shit you mean carrying another human being in your body for the better part of a year? Vomiting? Exhaustion? Your body growing in ways that shouldn’t be possible? That shit?”
“Yeah. Women have gotten soft. Back in the day, they pushed out their crotch fruit while running from saber tooth tigers.”
“You saying you’d prefer a smelly cave woman, Brandon?” I asked.
He laughed so hard he bent over and grabbed his knees. Then he stood up, straight faced. “Nah, I like the college girls.”
Before I could react, he walked off.
I tried to stare a hole into the back of his head before heading to the back to the line of tall, black employee lockers to grab my helmet. I reached for the lock, input the code and then pulled. Rage took over and I slammed it shut. It bounced open so I slammed it again, paused, and then rammed my fist into the metal, creating a dent. My face compressed.
This isn’t me anymore. Why am I letting that stupid fuck get under my skin?
I touched my forehead to the locker, breathing hard, and pressed my damp palms against the black paint. I could feel beads of sweat forming on my hairline.
He’s definitely up to something, but what?
I grabbed my helmet, shut the locker and made a beeline for the front door. As soon as I got to my bike, I pulled out my phone.
The sun was beating down on me, and I felt my shirt begin to dampen. I was already pissed, my skin on fire before I’d even left the locker room. Now I felt like I was about to overheat.
I put my phone away, put on my helmet and revved the Harley’s engine, taking off down the street to the gas station on the next block. At least there’d be air conditioning and I could talk to Pidge without dying of heat stroke and anger.
I parked and went inside, buying a liter of cold bottled water and then slipped into the men’s restroom to call my wife. The soles of my trainers stuck to the floor as I checked the stalls. Empty. I dialed her number, staring at myself in the mirror while it rang.
She took so long to answer I was expecting voicemail to pick up, but soon her soft, comforting voice was on the other end of the line. “Hi, baby.”
“Hey,” I said, exhaling. All of my muscles relaxed, and for the first time I could feel the relief of the air conditioning.
“Uh oh. What’s wrong? Trent okay?”
“Trent’s fine. Brandon just popped off and I’m trying not to kill him. He asked us to dinner and then said he liked college girls.”
She thought for a second. “Well, we can make endless excuses for why we can’t go.”
“I might’ve let it slip that I work late every night this week. I wouldn’t put it past him to stop by.”
“I won’t answer the door.”
I smiled, looking down. “That’s my girl. You always have a solution.”
“He’s a dick, but you don’t have to worry about him, Travis. There is not one reason why I would ever be alone with him. He’s not that stupid, anyway.”
“I don’t know. He said something else.”
“Like what?”
“He was asking about the fire. He said he was playing poker with Parker, who mentioned the fire.”
“And?”
“He said Parker was hoping I’d get ratted out because he’s too big of a pussy to do it himself.”
Abby grew quiet.
“They’ve already written that piece to clear you, complete with quotes from people saying you weren’t there.”
“You never said how that all went down,” I said.
She was quiet again.
I closed my eyes tight, leaning my back against the wall. “Please tell me it has nothing to do with Parker.”
“What? No! Hell no, Travis.”
“So how did you get them to do all that with just owing you money?”
“Well …”
“What did you do, Pidge?”
“There was a guy there. Collin … something.”
“Vanderberg. Parker’s dad is basically the Wish version of Collin’s dad. He runs a lot of shit in this state.”
“Well, he recognized me, and knew who my dad was. He’s actually not bad at poker,” she said, lost in thought.
I frowned.
“So,” she continued, “I might’ve explained to Ricky and Justin who my dad was. You know, who he associates with. They owed me a lot of money, Trav. They know who I was raised around. Collin actually planted the seed. Which was kind of accidental genius on his part, but that’s beside the point. They’re too scared to say anything again.”
“Abby,” I sighed. “You can’t keep sticking your neck out for me. You have to stop. You’re getting in too deep, and if you’re caught, you’ll get arrested, too. If I go down for this, I can handle it. If you’re arrested, Pigeon … I’ll never forgive myself. You have to stay out of it.”
“Travis …”
“No, damn it! I know you’re scared, but you’re done.”
“I’ve already lied to the police and the Feds. If you go down, we both go. I’m not going to let it happen.”
I scrunched my face. I felt helpless. I couldn’t fix it. I just had to wait for us to get away with it … or not.
“We have to be careful, Travis. Whatever it is, he’s one step ahead. I … I need to tell you something. And please know that I didn’t tell you right away because I didn’t want you to hate your job more than you already do.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. “What the fuck did he do?”
“Remember when I ran into him in the parking lot after my lunch with Cami? He was acting really weird.”
“Weird how? Nervous or flirting?”
She hesitated. “He doesn’t strike me as a man who gets nervous.”
“So, he was flirting.” I felt murderous. “You think he’s trying to get me out of the way?”
“Surely not,” she said with a sigh. “That’s insane. Even for him. I made it very clear, as politely as I could, that he repulsed me.”
“Did he touch you?”
“Babe …”
I closed my eyes. “Did he touch you?” I said, my voice firmer than I’d intended.
She paused before answering again. “He kissed my hand. I pulled it away. Travis, listen to me. Breathe. Do not go back there and confront him about it. It’s probably what he wants. Travis?”
Every muscle in my body twitched uncontrollably. Rage welled up within me with such force, the only thing keeping me from sprinting out to my motorcycle and running it straight through Iron E’s glass wall, and straight at him, was the sound of my wife’s voice.
“You go after him and he’ll press charges. You can’t keep him away from me if you’re in jail. Please? Travis? Answer me, damn it!”
I took a deep breath. “I’m coming home to you as soon as I’m done.”
She exhaled. The next words she spoke sounded a hundred miles away. “You promise?”
“I promise, Pigeon.”
“I need you home tonight. Do not break your promise to me, Travis Carter. I don’t care what he says to goad you, you come home to me.”
“I’ll keep my promise. I love you. I’ll be home around nine.”
“It’s going to be okay, I promise. We’ll figure it out, and it’s going to be okay.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. “It will be.”
“Trav,” she warned.
“He’ll get his. But not tonight.”
“That’s good enough for me. I love you,” she said, emphasizing the last three words before ending the call.
I chugged the rest of my water, took a piss, and then stared at myself in the mirror while I washed my hands. I towel dried them, then checked my watch. I had a client in five minutes. I rushed out to my bike and headed back to the gym, but something caught my eye.
Brandon’s truck was parked at the Pizza Shack near the back, and he was standing next to it with his arms crossed over his chest, in deep conversation with two men in dark suits. The same two men we’d seen at Biasetti’s.
I raced to the gym and parked, shutting down the engine. Why the fuck is Brandon talking to the Feds? Especially after he’d asked me about the fire. He wasn’t there, he didn’t need immunity, so what did he have to gain? Was this how he planned to get rid of me to take a fair shot at my wife? Was he really that desperate?
My mind raced until I saw my next client get out of her car and walk to toward the Iron E.
“Hey, Travis!” Debbie said with a wide smile. “You ready?”
I mirrored her expression, but the last thing in the fucking world I wanted to do right then was smile. I was going to have fake it, maybe for a long time.
“Yep! It’s leg day,” I said. “Let’s get in there and rock it out.”
She gave me a high five, and we walked in together.
Chapter Twenty-Three
That Side of Love
Abby
MY THUMBNAIL BENT AS I pressed it against my teeth, but I was careful not to bite it or break it with our first anniversary—and wedding—being a week away. We’d been lucky, celebrating our firsts as a married couple almost normally. My birthday was a stark contrast to the year before, intimate and relatively tame with just Kara, Finch, Shepley and America, Trenton and Camille in attendance. Our first Thanksgiving at Jim’s was far better than the year before. It wasn’t lost on us that the year before had been brutal, and we spent the day making everyone around us groan with disgust at our constant PDA. Christmas and New Year’s came and went, and then America went into full wedding planner mode, finalizing all the details for St. Thomas.
The year had past almost as if federal agents weren’t still forcing us to having important conversations outside of our apartment. Travis and I went to class, went to work, paid our bills, and went on date nights like normal married couples, but there were still more than a few things we had to adjust to that I was sure no other newlyweds had to face, like carefully planning with Finch how to get Adam and Travis in a room alone together without anyone finding out.
