The more I think about it, the angrier I get—angry that this man, whom I don’t even know, has stolen my safe place from me. Angry that he had the nerve to pretend like he cared during the absolute worst moment of my life. The more I think about it, the more I realize Carlos probably made his son do those things, and his anger toward me was most likely retaliation from a child being scolded. Which then prompted another apology request from his father, which led to more anger. It’s a vicious cycle, and I’m stopping it here.
Without giving it another thought, I throw on some shorts and a T-shirt then drive to Suppato’s restaurant. Once I’m there I waste no time in blazing a trail to Carlos’s office. I don’t stop when Jaxon calls my name or when servers with trays of food block my path. This game, this—whatever this is—it ends now. The door to his office is closed, but with one knock I’m invited in.
“Makenna,” Carlos says, as if he were expecting me. “It’s nice to see you.” He stands to greet me, but it’s unnecessary.
“Thank you.” My tone is clipped, even though I know I shouldn’t take my frustrations out on him. “I just came here to tell you I think I need to move on.” I swallow. “Move forward.”
I need to stop using this place as a crutch and get on with my life. Reid is gone. He’s not coming back. It’s time for me to act like the twenty-three-year-old woman that I am.
And for me to get away from all the toxic ways your son damages my self-worth.
I don’t say that, of course. But it doesn’t stop me from thinking it.
“I also need you to send a message to someone for me, please.”
He raises a brow and tips his head. “A message?” He points to the empty chair in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat.”
I can’t sit down. I can barely stand still. My heart is racing. Why is my heart racing? Why does this bother me so much?
“Yes. I need you to give your son a message.”
Recognition hits him, and he visibly relaxes a little, but not much. “Has he done something wrong? Something to upset you?” His words are careful and guarded, and it makes me even more curious about the man I’m suddenly running from.
I slam the card on top of his desk. “Tell him I’m cashing out. I don’t want to play anymore. Tell him to stop fucking with my head.” Stop making me think about him all the time. Stop making me feel this way—whatever this way even is.
Carlos’s eyes widen as he rolls strained shoulders beneath his expensive suit. It’s almost as if he’s relieved. What’s that all about? He clears his throat before speaking, “You’ve been through a lot recently. I understand the stress that grief can cause, more than you know. Let me handle Cal. Whatever he’s done to upset you, consider it taken care of. Promise me you won’t give him another thought. Okay?”
I nod in agreement, but the knot in the pit of my stomach is twisting uncontrollably, and I feel like I could double over at any moment. My grief and anger just brought me in here to insult this man’s son… because he did something nice.
I’m losing it. Grief has driven me bonkers. I should never have unloaded all that on him. Medication is probably a good idea at this point.
“You always have a home here, Makenna. No matter what,” Carlos says.
There’s that word again—home.
I take a deep breath and calm myself down. “Thank you. It’s about time I start putting some of this knowledge to work.” I tap my temple and force a smile, quietly hoping it convinces him that my decision not to come back has nothing to do with what I just said about his son.
“I have a feeling your heart will help more people than your brain,” he replies with a smile of his own. His dark chocolate eyes are warm and his tone is sincere.
I think about the man beside the dumpster all those years ago. I think about Reid. And I think about Cal. My heart wishes I could’ve helped them all. Maybe in some distant, unknown way I still can.
“I sure hope so,” I say, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. “I’m sure you’re busy, so I should go. Thank you again.” Then I walk across the room and give the man who has been so kind to me a hug that feels like goodbye.
I can’t truly say goodbye to this man. I don’t want to say goodbye to this place. For so long it was my security, my safe haven. To say that I’m going to miss it is an understatement.
I hear the smile in Carlos’s voice when he speaks again. “Go save the world, beautiful girl. And don’t be a stranger, okay?”
“I promise I won’t.”
And I mean it. No matter where my life takes me, this will always be my home, regardless of what Cal Suppato does.
Today is the five-month anniversary of Reid’s death. So, I suppose it’s only appropriate that it’s also the sentencing hearing for his attacker. He was convicted of second-degree murder and first-degree robbery. The judge made sure he received the harshest possible sentence for both crimes, meaning life for murder and forty years for robbery. No parole. Even though I never speak his name, it’s one I will never forget.
He didn’t have many options when it came to plea bargaining since there was security video footage of the incident, me as an eyewitness, and they found the stolen car in his driveway. Reid’s father helped oversee the hearing.
There are moments when I’m sitting here, on the sofa, feeling sorry for myself. Then I think about Judge Landry and the fact that he has to relive the whole thing on a daily basis as part of his job. I can’t even imagine how hard that must be.
The crime has incidentally led to a further investigation. It turns out Reid’s attacker was stealing the car for an organized crime ring who wanted to sell it, along with several others, overseas. These people put a price tag on Reid’s life without knowing the first thing about him. They deserve whatever punishment they get.