No Way Back (Mia's Way, #1) (11 page)

“You’re my daddy’s lackey. At least you can leave whenever you want,” I reply. I storm out of the study and run towards my room. The panic is back, and I’m about to freak out. The world is too big. There are too many places for bad people to hide, and if I don’t make it to my closet, they’ll get me.

My phone rings. It’s Ari. I slow enough to answer it.

“I’m having an awful day, Ari!”

“Then I have good news for you. I’m coming over for a few days!”

“I’ll be in the closet.” I hang up and take the stairs two at a time. When I reach my room, I don’t even bother to close the door but run into the closet, collapse on the floor and sob.

I’m still curled up on the closet floor when Ari arrives. She opens the door, and I look up. I’d been in a half-doze.

“So … how’s life?” she asks, studying me.

“Awful.”

“You up to going out?”

“No.”

She enters the closet and sits down near me, her huge, designer bag taking up as much space as she does.

“We’re going shopping tomorrow,” she informs me.

“I don’t ever want to leave.”

“Well, you have to. I guess Dr. Thompkins told Chris, and Chris told Daddy that we need to help you get out of the house. So, we’re going shopping.”

“I hate them all,” I mumble.

“But you love shopping. We haven’t been in weeks. It’s almost fall; the clothes are all changing over! My bag is a summer one!” Ari sounds panicked. She motions to her handbag, as if I don’t already know she owns dozens of fall bags. “My reputation is at stake here, Mia.”

I push myself up. “Okay, we’ll go out, for the sake of your handbag.”

“I promise, we’ll be back by dark. We can do brunch at our favorite spot.”

I nod. The idea of leaving, of being around people I don’t know, makes cold fear run through me. But I know she’s right. Someday soon, like for school, I’ll have to leave the house again. I can practice now.

“So what’s this about your brother?” I ask.

Ari’s face lights up, like it always does when she’s got gossip. I lean back against a wall and prepare for what will probably be a typical, long, Ari-type story. Right now, I need her to distract me from my shitty world.

Chapter Eight

We sneak out the back the next morning to Ari’s car, parked one block away from my house. I survive brunch, and we head to the mall. It’s not too busy midmorning, and I’m surprised that I don’t feel like screaming when we walk in.

“Louis Vuitton first?” Ari says hopefully.

I nod. We walk through the mall and ascend to the second floor. I stick close to her, looking around. There are lots of places for bad people to hide, but I don’t feel alone or vulnerable here. I’m just one more face in the crowd, not someone bad guys would be after.

We both buy new handbags then head to the make-up counters in one of the upscale department stores. Two bottles of fingernail polish, three eye shadows and a pair of shoes later, we leave the store and stroll through the mall.

I almost,
almost
feel normal. I’m shopping with my best friend, gossiping about the kids at school and family. My hands aren’t shaking, and neither are my insides. Loud noises still startle me, but it’s okay, because I’m just another face in the mall.

We pass by the music and video store, and Ari stops to window shop. We go inside, so she can grab some DVD. I stop beside her as she searches through a rack and glance up at the television playing the news a few aisles over. The sound is off, but the newscasters look cheerful. I glance at Ari as she moves away then back up at the television.

I read the ticker and gasp.

Latest trend among political heirs: Senator Henry Jakeson’s son ditches politics, intends to follow Keith Connor’s son into the NFL next spring.

The footage from last spring shows Robert grinning and talking to an attractive sports reporter. He’s just come off the football field from something called the Combine and carries a water bottle in one hand. His stance easy, smile confident. Arrogant. Like there’s nothing in this world that can stop him.

“Oh, god.” He’s here, too. He’s everywhere.

“Don’t look.” Ari grabs and yanks me hard away.

My knees are weak, my stomach churning. Tunnel vision makes Ari blurry. She staggers as I lean into her.

“Okay, okay,” she says. “Just … okay. Close your eyes. Pretend you’re in the closet.”

I close my eyes and sink to my knees.

“Okay, we’re in the closet,” Ari’s voice warbles. “It’s bright. Your shoes are like, right here. Handbags are here …” I can’t hear her anymore. I’m stuck in the in-between place.

It’s safe here. I don’t like it, but it’s dark and quiet.

“Mia!” Ari’s loud voice is accompanied by a pinch so hard, my eyes snap open. She and the store clerks are standing over me. “Okay, okay. She’s okay.” Ari’s voice is frantic and her eyes are large. “Right? You’re okay?”

“Yeah,” I mumble.

“Here,” another clerk joins us, holding a bottle of soda from the coolers near the cash register. Ari takes it and opens it. I sit up and sip.

“Chris is sending a car,” Ari says. “Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay. Why’d you tell him?” I ask, irked.

“Right! Because you just passing out shouldn’t freak me out.”

I sigh. “Sorry, Ari.” I get to my feet.

The clerks step back and linger. I test my legs then gather my bags. Ari follows suit. I’m still feeling queasy but try not to show it, for her sake. We leave the store and move into the mall. Ari is staring at me.

“I’m okay, Ari,” I tell her. “I just … I saw him and freaked …”

“I understand.” Ari is quiet for a long moment, thoughtful.

We walk towards the entrance. I don’t want to go in the car Chris sent, but I’m also more than ready to go back to my closet. I can’t believe what I saw: a guy with no cares in the world, getting a multi-million dollar deal. Being rewarded for being who he is.

I can’t make it through the whole day without crying. I can’t sleep in my own bed. I can’t forget him, but he doesn’t think a second of his week about me.

“Mia, I was thinking,” Ari starts as we walk into the warm autumn day.

My body is shaking. I don’t see the car yet and head towards a bench sitting against one of the walls. It smells like cigarettes.

“Maybe … maybe you should go to the police about you know,
him.
”

“I can’t, Ari. You know that.”

“But you can’t pass out every time you watch TV.”

“I’ll get better.” Eventually.

“Mia, I’m serious,” Ari insists. “Go to those cops who rescued you. You got them medals. They’ll listen to you.”

“Ari …” I sigh. She has no idea how right she is, especially about Dom. “Let me guess, you think it’s the right thing to do, too.”

“It
is
the right thing to do.”

Her words kill me. She sees the look on my face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean …” Ari sighs.

“It’s okay. Everyone tells me I’m wrong. Oh, I didn’t tell you about yesterday, did I?”

She shakes her head.

The car pulls up, and we both walk towards it. The chauffeur opens the back door, and we slide in. I raise the privacy glass between us and the chauffer then inch close to Ari. Her mouth drops open as I recount the trap the DA set for me.

“Omigod!” she breathes. “I can’t believe they did that to you. What’d Chris say?”

“I didn’t tell him.”

“Because …”

“Because I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh. Wow. So you might do what they want you to?”

“Shea says if I step forward, they’ll humiliate me and my family, because I was drunk and underage and had a fake ID and stuff. Chris says he-said, she-said cases are hard to prove in court, that the burden will be on me to prove he hurt me,” I continue.

“In either case, your daddy will lose the Connor family, fracture the conservative base before elections, and give the press way too much fodder on your family,” she murmurs.

“Yeah. I can’t go through it again, Ari.” I slump in the seat. “But last night, instead of seeing him in my dreams, I saw all those girls. I can’t stop thinking about them, Ari.”

“Well, the football deal he got will take him away,” she reasons. “Maybe if he’s not here, with the other guy, maybe he’ll stop hurting people.”

“I hope so. I hope I was the last.”

There’s pain in Ari’s eyes as she looks at me. I can see what she’s thinking: that Dom and the DA are right.

I try to smile but can’t. “I want this all to go away, Ari.”

“I know.” She squeezes my hand. “It’s so shitty you got stuck with community service. Why didn’t Chris get you out of that?”

“I don’t know. You know the cop, Dom, who helped me? I’m going to do the service at his sister’s shelter or something.”

“Really?” Ari grins. “You know, he’s a hottie.”

“No.”

“Um, yeah, he is. I saw him on TV when your dad gave him the award.”

“I guess I’m not really … I kinda don’t want anything to do with guys. Ever, ever again,” I say with a frown.

“If you have his phone number, I’ll call him.” Ari giggles.

I manage a smile, but her suggestion bothers me, maybe because Dom is
my
hero.  

“I’m just kidding, Mia. But he’s hawt.”

“If you say so,” I mumble.

“When do you start?”

“Chris hasn’t said. But he said I’ll have to do it during school, too. One hundred hours, Ari.”

She rolls her eyes. “Lame.”

We make it back to the house, and I hop out. She’s headed back to the mall to get her car, and I go upstairs with my bags. I walk into my closet and pull out my new shoes and handbag. I stand there for a moment, staring at my nest on the floor.

Robert Connor got a football deal and a new life somewhere else. My closet suddenly seems too small. I’m not sure what to do. I put my make-up in my bathroom and leave, lingering in the middle of my room.

Robert Connor was escaping, leaving me to my misery. I can’t stop thinking about how arrogant and easy his smile was. Am I angry or scared? Both?

“You start tomorrow morning.”

I twist to face the door I left open. Chris is in the doorway, portfolio in his hands.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re going to the women’s clinic in the morning. You’ll do four hours a day, four days a week, until school starts. Immediately after, you’ll meet with Dr. Thompkins.”

I gaze at him. I’m not paying any attention to what he’s said. He waits.

“You’re not in your closet,” he says finally.

“I saw the news,” I reply.

“And?”

“It’s not fair.” I look towards my closet. “I hate my closet. I hate that I can’t leave it, while he gets all that!” I wave my hand at imaginary riches.

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

“Robert Connor got a football deal. I’ve got my closet.”

“We’re back to Robert Connor.” Chris sounds puzzled. “I thought you cleared this up with your daddy when you talked.”

“Right. Because Daddy lets me tell him what to do,” I reply.

“I’m not sure what to do, Mia. Here’s Dr. Thompkins’ card.” Chris holds up a business card and steps far enough into the room to place it on the table under a mirror on my wall. “If you need to talk, call him.”

“You and daddy have a lot of limitations,” I tell him, angry again.

“Community service starts at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. Please be on time for once.” He leaves my doorway.

I grab a pillow, the nearest thing to me, and fling it at the door with a frustrated growl. I know it’s not Chris’s job to talk to me, but sometimes, I just wish someone in my house cared enough to ask more than how I am.

I go back to my closet, my anger fizzling into panic once again.

I saw Robert Connor today.