Distraction: An underground kings novel (15 page)

“My boyfriend,” I tell her while my insides twist into a knot, because that may not be the case for very long.

“He sounds like a dick,” she states.

I glare at her then hiss, “He’s worried.”

“He still sounds like a dick, and why would he be worried?”

“I don’t know Morgan, maybe because you have a tendency to bring trouble with you wherever you go,” I bite out sarcastically.

“That’s not fair,” she whispers, and I run my palm across my forehead and notice my hands are shaking.

Trying to get my thoughts together, I close my eyes then open them back up to look at her. “You said you want to get help, so what is your plan?”

“I need to borrow some money so I can get it back to Carmine, and then I’ll go into rehab.”

“Morgan.” I close my eyes again and feel myself deflate.

“Maggie,” she calls, and I open my eyes once more to look at her. “I know you don’t have much of a reason to believe me or trust me, but this time I really do want to get help.”

Studying her, I see the truth in her gaze, or maybe I’m only seeing what I want to see. “How much?” I hear myself ask, and watch relief flood her features.

“Fourteen thousand.”

“Fourteen thousand?” I choke.

“I know it’s a lot of money, but once I finish rehab, I swear I’ll pay you back, every penny.”

“Morgan, I just…I just don’t know. That’s a lot of money to just give to you.”

“I don’t have anyone else to ask,” she whispers, dropping her eyes to the coffee cup on the table which she’s turning slowly around and around.

My heart twists in my chest as I watch her. If I don’t help her she could really end up dead. If I do help her, she could run with the money and end up dead anyway.
This is a double-edged sword if there ever was one.

“You’re going to have to follow me to the bank. I don’t have that kind of cash on me,” I say, and the cup stops turning, her eyes meeting mine and are flooding with relief. “Morgan, this is it. This is the last time. I love you, but I can’t keep doing the same dance with you. If you don’t get help this time…” I shake my head, letting the unspoken words hang between us.

“I know,” she whispers.

Letting out a long breath, I stand from the table. “How did you get here?”

“Amy dropped me,” she mutters then continues when she reads the look of distaste on my face, “I’ve been staying with her the last few days.”

“Morgan—”

“Don’t say it, okay? I already know what you’re going to say, but you don’t need to.”

“Fine, you can ride with me,” I tell her, pulling my bag closer to my body. Once we’re in my car and on our way to the bank, my phone rings again, but I ignore it knowing without looking that it’s Sven. If I tell him what I’m doing now, not only will he be pissed, he will be
PISSED
, and I can’t deal with that right now.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” Morgan asks as I park in front of the bank.

Looking at her, I turn off my car and shake my head. “I’ll be back. I don’t know how long this is going to take.”

“I’ll be here,” she mumbles as I slam the door. It takes surprisingly less time than I thought it would to get the money. I don’t know why I thought it would be a process, or that I would have to sit down with a banker, but all I had to do was go the teller and tell them how much I needed, show ID, and sign off on the amount.

When I walk back out to the car, I see Amy standing next to the passenger side door of my car, talking to Morgan through the open window. Ignoring her, I get back into the car, trying to keep myself in check.

“Hi, Maggie,” Amy says, but all I can do is mutter a quiet acknowledgement back before asking, “Can you give me a minute to talk to Morgan?”

“Um, sure,” she agrees, looking between the two of us before stepping back. Rolling up Morgan’s window, I turn in my seat to face her fully.

“I asked her to come. She said she would give me a ride. I don’t want you mixed up any more than you have been,” she tells me before I can tell her how much her hanging with Amy will kill any chance of her getting better.

Pulling out the envelope from my bag, I hold it out to her but keep it in my grasp as I tell her quietly, “This is it, Morgan. I can’t do this again. I
won’t
do this again, so if you go back on your word this time, we’re done.”

“I know,” she whispers, taking the envelope from me. “As soon as it’s done, I’ll call you and tell you where I am.”

“Sure,” I agree, not really believing her, but hoping she’s being honest all the same.

“Promise.” She holds her pinky out to me. Feeling tears fill my eyes, I place my pinky around hers and hold her eyes. Releasing me, she gets out of the car quickly without saying another word. I wait there for a few minutes until she and Amy are long gone then pull out of the parking spot and head toward downtown, praying Sven will understand why I had to help her.

“You didn’t call,” Sven informs me in a tone I’ve never heard from him before as I push through the threshold into his office.

I take him in as he sits at his desk with a pen in his hand and his head bent toward a paper before him, but his eyes don’t lift to meet mine, not even as I close the door and mutter, “I know, I—”

“Did you know this morning you were going to go meet up with your sister?” he asks, cutting me off before I can finish my sentence.

“I did,” I tell him truthfully, freezing in place when his eyes finally lift to meet mine.

“I’m so fucking mad at you right now,” he whispers, and I sink into the chair in front of him, at a loss for words. I knew he would be mad, but this is more than mad, and more than pissed. The warmth he normally holds in his eyes for me is gone, and in its place is a completely blank look, one that scares me more than his anger.

“I know,” I agree, feeling my lip tremble.

“My mom almost killed my dad, and then she tried to kill me,” he says, stunning me. My body stills completely; everything in me stops. I swear even my blood ceases pumping through my veins. I have asked Sven more times than I can count about his parents and his family, but he has always changed the subject, never giving anything away. I thought that maybe he lost them and it was still too painful for him to talk about. I never, ever would have thought he went through something like that.

“I—”

“She was schizophrenic. I was a kid, so I didn’t know, but my dad did. She was taking medication for it, to keep it in check, but then one day she quit taking her meds, started tossing them in the garbage, convinced that my dad was trying to kill her. She would show up at my school and flip out, or flip out at the house and call the police, tell them that my dad or I were trying to kill her. He knew she had a problem, but he was in denial about it. He convinced himself that she had it under control once and could get it back under control if he helped her.

“I would avoid being home with her. I couldn’t even be in the same room with her without feeling like I was going to piss myself, because I was so afraid she would freak—something she did often.”

“I’m so sorry, honey,” I whisper, but I don’t even think he hears me as he continues on, the blank, distant look in his eyes never changing.

“I didn’t know until later, until it was too late, that a multitude of doctors told my dad that my mom needed to be placed somewhere she could get help. He didn’t listen to them, thought that if he loved her enough he could love her through her issues, but that’s the thing. You can’t love someone through shit like that. Sometimes people are beyond help. My dad found out the hard way, when my mom stabbed him twelve times in the chest while he slept next to her.”

Covering my mouth with my hand, I feel a sob crawl up the back of my throat and tears stream silently from my eyes.

“I woke up that night thinking someone was in the house. I didn’t know the sounds I heard weren’t someone breaking in, but my mom hacking away at my dad’s chest. When I made it to their room, the door was cracked, and I saw my mom standing over my dad, covered in blood.”

“Please stop,” I whisper, feeling like he’s punishing me with his words. The thought of Sven as a small boy witnessing something so gruesome kills me. I hate that for him. I hate he went through something like that. And I hate more that this is the time he’s choosing to share this with me.

“How many times have you helped your sister, stood by her, bailed her out?” he asks, tilting his head to study me. Swallowing through the pain, I shake my head. Our stories are not the same, not even close. “How many?” he repeats on a rumble.

“It’s not the same, honey,” I whisper gently. I really want to go to him to wrap my arms around him, but his body is so solid I know he doesn’t want that, not at all, not from me.

“You lied to me. Standing in my arms, you fucking lied to me.”

Okay, that cut deep, not that it wasn’t true. It was,
but
…

Dropping my eyes from his, I pull in a few deep gulps of air. I would do it again and again; I will always run to help my sister, because I remember there was a time she would have done the same for me I know that deep in my gut.

Hearing my phone ring in my bag, I cringe at the loud sound.

“Leave it,” He snarls, and I bite back the tears I feel gathering in my eyes and pull my cell out of my bag.

Unknown Caller
is on the screen, and I know, just
know
it’s Morgan. Sliding my finger across the screen, I ignore Sven’s curse and answer with a quiet, “Hello.”

“It’s done. Can you come get me? I need to get somewhere safe tonight.”

“Where, when?” I rush out, standing.

“I’ll meet you at the Galleria Mall. I’ll have Amy drop me there—fifteen, twenty minutes tops.”

“‘Kay.” I hang up, dropping my phone back in my bag, and look at Sven. The blank look is gone, replaced with rage.

“I need to pick Morgan up. She’s going into rehab,” I tell him, expecting him to look surprised or relieved, but his expression doesn’t change.

“You do this…” He shakes his head and rips a hand through his hair. “That’s it, Maggie.”

I cringe at the sound of his tone and feel my heart split in two, not only from the look in his eyes, but the amount of finality in his words as he spits them at me. “I have to help her,” I whisper through the pain the tears in my throat are causing as I swallow them down.

“She’s going to end up getting you killed. Do you not see that?” he yells, standing, causing the chair he was sitting on to slide back and hit the wall behind him with so much force that the window rattles.

“Sven.” I shake my head as my body begins to shake.

“No! Her or me, Maggie, you choose.”

“You can’t ask that of me,” I tell him, lifting my hand toward him as I take a step in his direction around the desk. His eyes drop to my hand and he takes a step back.

“Make your choice.”

“What?” I breathe as nausea and anxiety fill my stomach.

“Make your choice,” he roars, and I stumble back a step while my heart shatters.

“That’s not love, Sven. You asking that of me is not love,” I tell him quietly. Then I turn on my heels, run from his office and down the stairs, passing Lane, who’s eyes lift toward Sven’s office, looking pissed as they come back to me. I’m not crying now, but I feel the tears building in my chest and I know…I know I don’t have long before I break down.

“Maggie!” Eva yells, rushing toward me from behind the bar when she spots me.

“Sorry,” I whisper, running past her.

“Slow down, girl,” Teo says, stopping me with his large hand wrapped around my arm as soon as I pass through the outside door.

“I need to go,” I cry, attempting to wrench my arm from his grasp.

“What’s going on?” He frowns, studying my face.

“Let me go, Teo, please,” I beg, feeling desperate. I want to cry. I want to scream, but more than anything, I want to get away.

“Let’s go inside,” he says gently.

“Let me go,” I repeat, and his hand loosens and I’m able to get free. Running to my car, I get in then lock the doors. I don’t think anyone is following me, but I can’t risk anyone trying to stop me, not again. Putting my car in reverse, I hit the gas then slam on the brakes, causing the car to jerk and my body to slide forward in my seat. Putting the car in drive, I press the gas then swerve to miss Sven, who is standing at the entrance for the parking lot. I don’t even look as I pull out onto the road. I just say a prayer there isn’t a car coming and that I don’t die.

When I reach the mall, Morgan is standing out front with a backpack on the ground at her feet. As she spots my car, she picks up the bag and rushes toward me.

“I didn’t think you were coming,” she whispers, getting in and buckling her belt, reminding me that I need to put mine on as well. I never go without a seatbelt, but I didn’t even think to put it on. “Are you okay?” she asks, and I don’t look at her. I can’t. I just put the car in drive and take off toward the highway without answering.

Pulling into our
parents’ driveway, Morgan asks, “Seriously, Maggie?”

Once again, I ignore her, the same way I ignored her when she asked me where we were going when we got on the road. Then again, when I took the exit for Pullman, the community my parents live in, I honestly would never have planned on coming here, but the longer I drove, the more I thought about it, and the more I realized it’s my mom and dad’s turn to step the hell up.

I have been doing more than my fair share of taking care of people. It’s time someone had my back. And that thought hurt, because Sven should have been the one to do just that. He should have put his personal feelings aside and had my back. Even pissed, he should be here for me, but he wasn’t, proving to me that once again I picked the wrong man, but unlike all the others, he was able to hurt me.

Putting my car in park when I reach the end of the dirt road that stops near the front porch of my parents’ home, I mutter, “You want help, Morgan, then you do things my way this time.” I open the door, getting out without another word.

“MoonPie?” My mom calls in surprise, walking out onto the porch followed by my dad. They haven’t changed much since the last time I saw them. My mom is beautiful for a woman her age, with long white-grey hair, big blue eyes, and a small frame. You can tell she takes care of herself, eats right, drinks water, and exercises—or in her case, does yoga regularly. My dad’s age is starting to show, but he’s still handsome. His hair is still thick, and is now greying around the edges, but blends in with the blond. His skin is dark from the Arizona sun, and his body is firm from working outside daily in his garden or on the house.