Wildcard: Volume Three, page 6
Jake sits next to me, his eyes glued to his PlayStation, oblivious to how much this trial might change his life. For him, this is just another trip to the hospital, one of many treatments that blend into one another. I love that my boy is so oblivious to how life-changing this could be. I love that despite all he’s been through, he’s still just a little boy.
“So what now?” I ask, biting my lip.
Doctor Howe smiles at me. “We admit him, and begin the trial first thing in the morning.”
I nod, blinking back tears. I reach over and put my arm around Jake. He looks up at me with his big green eyes, no doubt wondering what's going on.
“You're going to be in the hospital for a few days. The doctors are going to try and make you better, okay?”
He considers this seriously before responding. “Do I get to take my PlayStation?” he asks, his eyes full of concern.
I laugh and nod. “Of course you do. You can take anything you want.”
“Okay. I’ll do it.” The determination in his voice makes me smile. He's such a strong little boy. The strongest.
Much stronger than me.
***
It's nearly nine o'clock in the evening when I leave the hospital. I feel anxious, as I always do when I leave him. I hate being away from my baby, but I need to be strong for him. I’m also nervous about seeing Ryder. I hate feeling ashamed of who I am, but that’s exactly how I feel right now; like I’m not good enough for him. That’s not who I am. I might’ve been that girl once, but I’ve worked damn hard to love the person that I am. I don’t want to mess that up.
I walk out the front and wait for Ryder. I can't see his car yet, so I sit down on a nearby bench. My phone buzzes. I assume it's him, telling me he's on his way, but when I pull the phone out I see it’s Penny calling me.
“Hey,” I answer. I feel bad that I haven't spoken to her since the misunderstanding. She doesn't even know that he knows. God, I'm such a bad friend.
“Scar, thank God you answered.”
“What is it? What's wrong?” My heart pounds as I wait for her to answer.
She sighs, her voice shaking. “The police are looking for you.”
“For me?” I squeak. “What do they want with me?”
“I don't know, but they’re asking questions. The fucking FBI was on my doorstep yesterday asking about you,” she panics.
“I don't know what to say,” I mumble thickly.
My heart is thumping so hard I can feel it pound against my hand as I rest it on my chest. What the hell is going on? The FBI? This has to be about Tony. There is no other explanation. I feel sick as I cover my face with my hand.
“What did you tell them?” I ask, choking back tears.
“Nothing. Just that you are out of the country, for Jake’s treatment. Scar, I'm sorry. I feel like I’ve gotten you into this mess.”
“God, no. This isn't your fault, Pen. I did what I had to do.” I glance up and see Ryder’s car approaching. “Look, I've got to go. I'll call you later. Let me know if you hear anything else.”
I shove the phone into my pocket and stand up. Ryder leans over and opens the door for me. I climb in and offer him an unconvincing smile. Right away, he knows something is up.
“Is Jake okay?” he asks.
I nod. “Jake is fine. It's just been a long day.” I force a smile and rest my head against the window. I can't tell him.
Because he has no idea that I hired someone to take care of Tony.
I close my eyes in an attempt to hide the tears that are threatening to roll down my cheeks. This is all so messed up. There is no way Ryder will understand what I did, especially after learning about my disastrous past. I can’t even justify it.
What the hell am I going to do?
Chapter Fifteen
Ryder
There's something she's not telling me. Again. Why can’t she just be fucking honest with me? Fuck.
As soon as we arrived home, she went to bed, claiming she had a headache, but I could see there was more to it than that. There was no point pushing her, because she was at breaking point. Then, she was gone before I woke up. She caught a taxi to the hospital because she didn’t want to ‘wake’ me.
This has to be about Tony.
“Fuck,” I curse, as I hurl my foot into the side of the couch. That fucking lying scumbag. He is hassling her again. It's the only thing that makes sense. I didn't pay that piece of shit two hundred grand to go back on his word.
***
“Are you even watching me?” Cally scowls, hurling the ball into the net.
“Are you that insecure that you need me to watch you every second of the day? The point of this is not for me to baby you and tell you how amazing you are. I want you to hit the ball and watch yourself in the mirror. Focus on your swing. Focus on where the ball is hitting the racket.”
She grumbles, but goes back to her training. I look back down at my phone, staring at the number on the screen. His number. Tony’s. I’m on the verge of dialing, only I’m not convinced it's a good idea. What if I have it all wrong? What if something else is bothering her? What if she's hiding more secrets from me?
I want to trust her. I really do. But it's hard to trust someone who has lied to you over and over again.
Before I can fully comprehend what I'm doing, I'm calling him. I have no idea what I'm going to say, or if he will even admit that he's been hassling her. And really, what can I do? It's not like he's going to give me my money back. This whole situation is fucked up.
“Hello?”
I don't recognize the voice, but one thing is for sure—it's not him. My heart races, because I have no idea what's going on. I clear my throat.
“Who is this?” I ask, instead of answering.
“This is Detective Reynolds from the Boston Police Department. Who is this?”
Fuck. My first instinct is to hang up, but I'm calling from my phone. It wouldn't take them long to figure out who I am. I'm panicking, because I have no idea what is going on. Where the hell is Tony, and why are the police in possession of his phone?
“Ryder. I’m Ryder Stevens. Listen, I'm looking for Tony,” I say. My voice trembles. “What’s going on?”
“Sir, what’s your relationship to Tony Larezzi?”
“He's the father of my girlfriend’s son.” There’s no point in lying. All lying will do is make everything a thousand times worse. “What's going on?” I repeat.
“Mr Larezzi has been seriously injured. I'm sorry, but I can't really elaborate any more details to you. Is your girlfriend Scarlett Calera?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Mr Stevens, do you know the whereabouts of Ms. Calera? We’ve being unsuccessful in trying to get in contact with her.”
“She's here in London with me. Her son, Jake, is receiving treatment for cystic fibrosis.”
“Can you have her call me please? As soon as possible. It's imperative I speak to her. She can call me on 555-632-4141.”
“Sure,” I say. “I'll have her call you back as soon as she can.” I hesitate before adding, “Is she in trouble?”
“Not if she hasn't done anything wrong.”
I hang up the phone, unsure what to do next. I need to find Scarlett. I have no doubt that I’ll be in the shit, because it won't take much for the police to discover that I paid him off.
Which means it won't be long before Scarlett knows it too.
Shit.
“Are you okay?”
I jump, my heart pounding. I’d completely forgotten Cally was there. She’s eyeing me strangely, as though she's trying to figure out what's going on.
“Something's come up. I have to go. Keep practicing your swings. I'll see you tomorrow morning. Call me if you need me, okay?”
“Sure,” she mutters, not looking convinced. She stares at me for a moment longer before returning to training.
I shove my things back into my bag and sling it over my shoulder. I need to find Scarlett, and I need to do it now.
***
I walk into Jake's room at the hospital. He's asleep, and Scarlett is sitting by his bed, her eyes closed. She's asleep, too. I almost don't want to wake her, but this is important. I need to let her know what I know.
And it’s time I come clean about paying him off.
Chapter Sixteen
Scarlett
“Hey, Scar.”
I stir, opening my eyes. My neck is killing me. I've been contorted in this chair all day, and it's beginning to take its toll on my body. I glance over at Jake, who is fast asleep. Finally I focus on Ryder, who is crouched in front of me.
He reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “How is he?” he asks.
“Good. Tired from all the testing, but he's handled it well.”
“And you? How are you?” he asks gently. I smile as he reaches up his thumb and strokes my cheek.
“I'm holding it together.” I shrug. “What else can I do?”
That's a lie. I'm on the verge of falling apart, and the only thing stopping me right now is Jake.
I so badly want to tell Ryder everything, but I know that there is only so much the guy can take. How many more secrets can he handle before he decides it's too much and walks out?
“Do you want to go and grab a coffee? There's something I need to tell you.”
I nod and stand up. I don't like his tone. Whatever he has to tell me, it isn't good. I'm thinking the worst, and at the moment the worst is maybe the police have somehow gotten onto him. I can't think about it too much because I'm so scared, and the moment that fear takes over there’s no going back.
He takes my hand—which is a good sign—and walks me out of the room. There is a small coffee shop located on the same floor as Jake's ward. I sit down while Ryder orders our coffees.
“Wow, this is really hard,” he says.
He's fidgety, and he can't look at me. Every second that passes leaves me more anxious about what is coming. I'm already thinking the worst. I'm running scenario after scenario in my head.
“Please,” I beg. “You're freaking me out.”
“Firstly, I want you to know that all I ever wanted was to be able to take care of you. Everything I did, I did because I couldn't stand to see that scumbag take advantage of you.”
Okay, now I’m really worried.
“I paid Tony to leave you alone.”
“You what?” I gasp. My eyes widen in shock. Am I hearing him correctly? “When? How much?”
“The week before I came back here. I called him up and arranged to meet him. I paid him two hundred grand to stay out of your life forever.”
“Are you insane?” I screech. “I can't believe that—especially after I told you that I wanted to handle this myself.”
“I'm sorry, but I couldn't sit back and watch him ruin your life,” he says. “And I hardly think you’re in the position to judge me.”
He frowns, hurt shadowing his eyes, and for a moment I feel bad. But then I remember that while he was paying Tony off, I was paying someone to take care of him.
God, I feel sick. I shiver as my body goes from hot to cold. This isn't good. This is really, really bad.
“There’s, uh, more,” Ryder says, embarrassed.
“More? Awesome. Hit me with it.” Sarcasm rolls off my tongue.
“Hey, there’s no need for the attitude, Scar. I was worried about you. These last few days you've been distant. I thought maybe he'd been in contact with you again. So I tried calling him.”
“And?” I press, not liking where this is headed.
“The, uh, police answered.”
“The police?” I whisper. I can feel the blood drain from my face.
“They wouldn't tell me much, other than the fact that he's been pretty badly hurt and they’re keen to talk to you.”
“Me?” I gasp.
Oh God, they know. Fuck, they know everything. I sit forward as I struggle to breathe. The room begins to spin. No, no, no, no, no, this can’t be happening.
“How badly is he hurt?” I whisper.
“They wouldn't say.” He takes a deep breath. “It's not going to take much for them to find out that I paid him off, Scar.”
“I told you to leave it alone,” I cry, frustrated.
I’ve got no right to be angry with him, but I need to let it out, and he’s the only person around me right now. His eyes cloud with hurt, and I feel bad. I know he’s just trying to help, but having him messed up in this is not what I need.
“I’m sorry. I thought I was helping.”
“You have no idea what he’s like, Ryder. The money wouldn’t deter him one bit. As soon as that was gone he’d be back for more.”
“What other option was there, Scar? Did you have a better plan?”
I blush and avoid his eyes.
“Scar,” he says slowly. “Please tell me you didn’t do anything stupid.”
I pause and wet my lips, my heart pounding. “Define stupid,” I say delicately.
“What did you do?” he asks, his eyes flashing.
I feel myself breaking. I have to tell him. He’s going to find out anyway, and there’s no way I’m getting out of this without his help.
“He wanted money, but I knew that wouldn’t be the end of it. Just like last time, I knew he’d be back.” My voice is shaking, because I have no idea how he is going to react to this. “I hired a guy to scare him off.”
His eyes widen. “You hired a hit man?”
“No,” I hiss, glancing around me. “It wasn’t supposed to be like that. I just wanted to scare him into leaving me alone. Only it obviously got out of hand.” I clench my hands into fists on the table. “What am I going to do?”
Tears spring to my eyes. All I ever wanted to do was make the whole thing go away—only I’ve made everything worse. It’s the fucking story of my life.
“It’ll be okay, Scar. I’ll take care of it.”
I smile sadly as Ryder wraps his arms around me, but his words hold little comfort. Not even he can help me this time. If I explain to the police why I did what I did, I’m fucked; and if I don’t, I’m fucked.
Chapter Seventeen
Ryder
I told her I’ll take care of it, but in reality I'm not sure what I can do.
This is some fucking serious shit.
We’re both eyeballs-deep in this mess in different ways. At the moment, I think the best thing she can do is avoid any questions the police might want to ask—at least until I can figure something out.
“I feel better now you know,” she whispers, wrapping her arms around my neck.
I lean down and kiss her. Am I happy about the position she’s put herself in? No, but I get it. You can’t really understand until you’ve been in her situation.
“It’s okay. I’ll take care of it,” I promise again.
I want to yell at myself for getting her hopes up when it’s obvious—to me, at least—that there is nothing I can do to fix this. I can’t pay to make it go away this time. She hired someone to scare this bloke off, and now he’s messed up in hospital.
I have to find out how serious his injuries are.
I kiss her again and smile, forcing the anxiety back down into the pit of my stomach. “I’ll speak to you later, okay?”
***
“Josh,” I say.
“Hey, man. How’s things?” He sounds pleased to hear from me.
“You know,” I laugh, “I’m always in one bind or another.”
“Uh-oh. Is this about Scar?” he asks hesitantly.
“Yes, but not in the way you’re thinking.” I groan, weighing up how much detail to go into. The less he knows, the better. “It’s more to do with her ex.”
“He’s still bothering her?”
“Actually, no. That’s the problem. I can’t go into detail, but I need a favor. Does your cousin still work at Burnshire Memorial hospital?”
“I think so. Why?”
“Tony’s there. I need to know what happened to him, and his condition,” I explain.
Josh sighs. “I don’t want to know any more than I have to here, do I?”
“Probably for the best,” I agree.
“Okay. It’s late here, man. Give me till the morning, and I’ll get back to you.”
“Thanks, Josh. You’re a lifesaver.”
I shove my phone into my bag and head inside the stadium. There are people everywhere, even though it’s barely eight Monday morning and the first matches don’t start until after ten.
I make my way to one of the outdoor practice courts, where Cally is already waiting for me. I stand back and watch her work on her strokes. A smile plays on my lips: she’s doing exactly what I told her to work on yesterday. Why does this kid who listens to nobody listen to me? I don’t get it.
I cough, making my presence known. She looks up, wearing her trademark scowl.
“Late much?” she grumbles, and I laugh.
“I’m actually three minutes early.”
“Oh. Well, it feels like you’re late.” This kid is going to be amazing one day, if only because she’ll intimidate the hell out of her opponents. The attitude is good; it will help score her some major sponsors. It worked for me.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Fine, I guess.” Her eyes tell a different story. It’s the first time I’ve seen any vulnerability from this kid, and I can tell she’s terrified.
“Okay, pack your stuff up,” I order.
“What?” Her mouth falls open in shock. “But I thought—”
“I think you’ll benefit from just watching a few matches today. Get a feel for the crowd. You can be the best tennis player in the world, but if you can’t handle the pressure you’ll go nowhere.”
“Fine,” she finally says, yanking her bag over her shoulder. She glares at me before storming off the court. Fuck me. I could’ve handled that better. How many times this week am I going to be able to say that?
Get a grip, Ryder.
Chapter Eighteen
Scarlett
To say I was freaking out would be an understatement. I’m losing my fucking mind. Between Jake’s treatment and what Ryder told me about Tony, my head is a mess. I’ve tried calling Penny about a hundred times, and I can’t get through. I have no idea what I’m going to do. What if I end up in jail? What would happen to Jake?
