Page 22 of Escaping Reality


  up to him. My phone beeps with a text and I quickly click on it.

  This is why I didn’t want you here. There is a link and I click on it. The

  headline reads, Billionaire’s father arrested on DUI. The subtitle though is

  the worst part. Mother of two almost bleeds to death while young daughter

  watches. I read the details of what has been reported and my gut knots at

  the horrific article that all but calls it Liam’s fault for not controlling his

  father. I dial his number. He doesn’t answer. I text him. Please call me.

  Walking into courthouse is the reply I receive.

  He doesn’t want to talk to me. I feel it. He needed me last night and

  he feels like I wasn’t there for him. Maybe I have a little too much of my

  pops in me for both our good. My confident, talented man isn’t as confident

  as I thought. Somehow the vulnerability in him makes him more human,

  more special. But he doesn’t think so. He thinks of himself as damaged

  goods.

  My hand settles on my belly and I hate the certainty that if I am

  pregnant I’ll have to leave Liam. He is too high profile, too newsworthy, and

  my child and I would therefore be in the spotlight, where we would become

  bigger targets than I already am. I see why Alex hated the press. Liam is

  media fodder whether he wants to be or not. I don’t want to leave him. I

  don’t want to run anymore. That means I cannot sit back and hope I am not

  found. I can’t go on trying to find answers in a scared and non-committed

  way.

  Decision made to act and quickly, I throw off the blanket, rush

  through a shower, and then dress in jeans, a tank top, and Keds. I leave the

  hotel on a mission for answers, and make my now daily stop by the bank,

  where I disappointedly find nothing has changed. There is not more money

  in my account. The discovery serves as reinforcement for what I have to do

  next. If Liam were to suddenly be out of my life, I have to be able to survive

  and not end up dead.

  I swing by the cell phone store, where I buy several disposable

  phones. A few blocks later, I stop at Evernight to find another “out to

  lunch” sign. I call Meg and she actually answers.

  “Please tell me you’re okay. I tried to call you this morning. I was

  worried after that man of yours acted like an oaf.”

  “I didn’t see the call.” In fact, I’m quite certain there wasn’t one, so

  this lie bothers me.

  “I’m fine. Liam had a family emergency and he overreacted to Jared

  because of it.”

  “Oh no. I hope everything is okay?”

  I think better of telling her he’s out of town. “It’s under control. I’ve

  been trying to connect with you on the properties I was given to inspect. I

  really don’t think I have the right list.

  If I email you the list, can you confirm if I do or don’t?”

  “Sure. Of course.” She gives me her direct email address. “You want

  to try happy hour again?”

  No. “I’m tied up for the next few days. Maybe mid-week. I’ll email

  you the list today.”

  “Yes. Okay.” She sounds awkward, but who wouldn’t after what she

  witnessed last night?

  “You might want to call Jared. He was worried about you.”

  “I don’t even have his number.”

  “I’ll text it to you.”

  “Thanks.” No thanks is more like it.

  We end the call and she indeed sends me Jared’s number by text,

  which I delete. I have no intention of letting Jared know my cell number,

  and hopefully Meg won’t give it to him. As it is, the mystery

  blocked-number call has me uneasy.

  I grab a few groceries that will allow me to keep my slim budget in

  check and hole up in the hotel room for a few days, intending to do nothing

  but research. I set up a workstation on the dining room table and then dial

  Liam. He doesn’t answer. I text him. No reply. I try not to think the worst,

  like he’s shutting me out intentionally, or that I’m still here in his rented

  room, out of some obligation he feels to protect me. It’s not hard to believe

  that could be true, with the news piece blaming him for his father’s sins.

  Guilt, no matter how unwarranted, has to be his enemy right now.

  Settling into a chair at the dining room table, I prepare a notepad and

  have my computer on and ready. My first priority is to send Meg the

  property listings, then I break out the disposable phones. I begin making

  calls, pretending to be a reporter from a New York paper who is doing a

  story on my father’s life and death. No one can find records of the fire. This

  is illogical. There was a fire. I’m not crazy. I didn’t imagine that life-changing

  event.

  Hours pass and I make call after call to museums, media outlets,

  records departments, and old connections I know are linked to my father. It

  seems I blink and the room is dim, the sunlight gone. I flip on lights and

  check my inbox and find nothing from Meg on the property listing I sent

  her. I call her and she replies by text. Working late. Will call you tomorrow.

  A knock sounds on the door and I stand up, staring in the direction of

  the entryway. No one knows I’m here. Liam has stopped evening

  housekeeping visits. I’m not being paranoid. I’m being realistic. This could

  be a problem. More knocking sounds. I decide I’m going to pretend I’m not

  here. My cell phone starts ringing and I glance down to find the caller ID

  reads “Derek”.

  I am relieved. Someone will be on the phone with me if this door

  knocking turns into a problem.

  “Hello,” I answer.

  “Amy, this is Derek. Do you know who I am?”

  “Liam’s friend.”

  “Liam’s friend who is standing at your door with a delivery from

  him.”

  “Oh. Sorry. I was—”

  “Being smart like any woman alone should be, but let me in, will ya?”

  “Yes. On my way.” I end the call and rush toward the door.

  Opening it up, I find a tall, good-looking blond man about Liam’s age,

  in a well-tailored navy suit, holding plastic grocery bags. He lifts them

  slightly. “I bring food.”

  What? “Am I on Candid Camera?”

  He chuckles. “If you are, we both are, and I think I might be the one

  getting laughed at.”

  He enters the hall and keeps walking, leading me to the mini-fridge in

  the main room of the suite.

  He deposits the bags on the counter. “Liam didn’t trust you to spend

  your money, or his, on groceries. He didn’t want you to go hungry.” He

  starts putting away the groceries.

  “I can’t believe he asked you to do this. I can’t believe you really did

  it.”

  “He’s worried about you.”

  “He can’t keep spending money on me.”

  He glances over his shoulder. “You do know he’s a billionaire, right?”

  “Sometimes I wish he wasn’t.”

  He shuts the fridge and leans on the counter, crossing his arms over

  his chest. “I have to hear this. Do explain.”

  Liam’s words about his father, about many people, I suspect, come

  back to me. Sharks swimming at my feet. “How will he ever know I want
r />   him and not his money?”

  His expression softens. “He knows, Amy. Believe me, he knows, or

  you wouldn’t be here and neither would I.”

  “He won’t even take my calls.”

  “He’s messed up right now.”

  “Over his father.”

  “Yes. Over his father. Give him a little time.”

  I don’t like how that sounds. “How long do you think he’ll be gone?”

  “A few days. We have to finalize him as the architect on this project

  by next week or he’s out. He seems to want in.”

  “If he gets to use his design.”

  “You seem to know him pretty well for someone who just came into

  his life. That’s good.

  He’s been alone a long time.”

  Liam has been alone a long time. I’m still thinking about that a few

  minutes later when I shut the door behind Derek, promising to lock up and

  call him if I need anything. I like Derek and decide I will call him if I need to.

  I just hope I don’t need to. I dial Liam. He doesn’t answer.

  No surprise there. I shower and pull on one of his shirts and call

  again. Still he doesn’t answer.

  ***

  Two days pass, and Liam has only texted me a few times. I’m going

  crazy and it’s

  Sunday, so I’m limited on distractions. I can’t make much progress on

  the phone and the library in walking distance is closed. Monday comes with

  a text from Liam checking on me that leaves me feeling more alone than

  ever. I dress and arrive at the library when it opens, and my hunt through

  their microfilm collection takes up most of the day.

  Tuesday arrives with another text and drives me into more research.

  While I am no closer to answers about my past, I actually connect with

  someone who can change my identity completely. The catch: it will cost me

  ten thousand dollars I don’t have. The alternative is a flea-market fake that

  will at least allow me to travel inside the States. At fifty dollars, it wins me

  over and I decide getting one is on my Wednesday agenda as a safety

  precaution.

  It’s nearly nine o’clock when Derek stops by again. I greet him at the

  door, feeling rather hostile at his presence. “Why are you here to check up

  on me for him but he can’t call me?”

  “Amy—”

  “Answer the question.”

  He scrubs his jaw. “He’s dealing with his father’s trash talk and it

  messes with his head more than you can possibly know.”

  “Exactly, because he’s shut me out.”

  “He’ll come around. Let me take you to dinner.”

  “No. I’m staying here. Thank you, though.” I don’t invite him in.

  “Liam says you need a job.”

  “I have one.”

  He studies me a moment. “Then why does he think you don’t?”

  “I’ll ask him if he calls me.”

  He sighs heavily. “Call me if you need me.”

  Guilt over my shortness is instant. “I’m sorry. Thank you. I will.”

  He leaves, and while I’m no longer hostile, I’m determined. The

  silence has to end. I call Liam and he doesn’t answer. That’s it. I’m taking

  action. I text him. Call me or I’m getting on a plane and finding you. And if

  you think I won’t do it, you don’t know me well.

  My cell rings instantly. I answer to hear, “Amy.” His voice is

  sandpaper rough, almost brittle.

  “I guess your quick call means you really want to stop me from

  showing up there.”

  “I don’t want you in this part of my life.”

  He thinks he’s bad for me. I think I’m bad for him. “You aren’t your

  father.”

  “You won’t convince him of that.” Bitterness and pain ripple through

  his words.

  “Let me come there and be with you.”

  “No. You will end up in the newspapers.”

  “And you don’t want me there.”

  “I don’t.”

  I flinch. “Okay. I get it. I’m going to go back to my apartment—”

  “No. Shit. Don’t. Please. I’m handling this all wrong, just like I did the

  other night in Earl’s. Look. Amy. I’m not the person I want you to know right

  now. That’s why I haven’t called.

  I don’t know what will come out of my mouth, but thinking about

  being back there with you is all that keeps me sane.”

  My eyes pinch. “Just come back,” I whisper. “When can you come

  back?”

  “Soon.”

  “Promise. I know how you feel about promises.”

  “I promise.” He hesitates. “Amy—”

  “Yes?” I hold my breath and wait, not sure what to expect.

  He lets out a breath. “Tell me you won’t leave.”

  “I won’t leave.”

  “Promise.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut. If I make this promise I have to tell him

  everything when he gets back. He can’t protect himself from a danger he

  doesn’t know exists. And I’m pretty certain he’d come after me if I left

  anyway. “I promise.”

  ***

  Wednesday morning I am at the bank when it opens to discover my

  account is as empty as my inbox remains. I’m frustrated with Meg’s “out

  with a client” and “haven’t had time to check the listings” text messages.

  Surely her boss has to have returned to town, and I head in that direction.

  When I find the office closed again, I do not feel good about this. I decide to

  walk to the back door and see if I can get into the building to look around.

  Once I’m in the small alleyway, I knock on the door to be safe, and

  receive no response. I try the door but it’s locked. There is a window that

  has to be Luke’s office and I decide to try it, praying I don’t get myself

  arrested. I peek in the window to find an empty office, without furniture or

  even boxes. The window is locked, so I move to the window on the

  opposite side of the building to find it’s vacant. Unease ripples through me.

  Something is very wrong about this.

  There could be another office, but from the lobby it looked very

  small inside. I don’t know what to do.

  As much as I dread it, I know I need to stop by the apartment and

  look for any notes. I still have no mail key since I can’t connect with Meg,

  but I’ll check my door.

  I arrive to find nothing on my door or under it. Hesitating, I turn to

  Jared’s door and decide to knock. He doesn’t answer. Figures.

  Deciding it is Meg and Luke I need to be researching, I stop by INK

  coffee shop near the hotel to splurge on a mocha to take with me to the

  room. I’ve just ordered when I hear, “Amy.”

  I turn and find Jared sitting in a corner chair with his computer in his

  lap, his long, light brown hair loose around his shoulders, and that familiar

  feeling roars through me more powerfully than ever. He motions for me to

  join him and I hold up a finger, then grab my coffee and join him, claiming

  the empty seat next to him. “I’ve been worried about you,” he insists.

  “After that guy dragged you from Earl’s, I wasn’t sure what to think.”

  “He’d had a family emergency and was worried about losing it in the

  bar.”

  His eyes narrow. “That’s your story and you’re sticking with it, right??
??

  “It’s my story because it’s true.”

  He closes his laptop and sets it aside, and my gaze catches on his

  University of Texas graduation ring. And I know now why Jared is familiar. I

  must have seen the ring, and my subconscious registered it when I did not.

  He has a connection to my brother and an image of Chad flashes in my

  mind. My fingers dig into my leg. I see his face. I actually see his face.

  “You look like you saw a ghost,” Jared comments, and I jerk my gaze

  to his.

  “You went to UT?” I ask, and I sound strange, but I feel strange, too.

  Jared glances at his ring. “I did. Why do you ask?”

  “Way back when, I considered attending.” Because I wanted to

  follow in my brother’s footsteps and convince my father I was as good as

  Chad.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “New York was home so it made more sense.” It’s a lie I tell easily. I

  don’t like this connection I have to Jared, but it seems he wouldn’t wear the

  ring if he wanted to hide it.

  “How long ago did you graduate?” I ask, trying to find out if he could

  be linked to my brother.

  “I’m twenty-eight if that’s what you want to know.”

  Chad would be thirty now. “I’m twenty-four.”

  “So, not long out of school,” he observes.

  “A few years.”

  “What did you study?”

  “Nothing exciting. Business. How does someone get into hacking?”

  “Generally by getting into trouble. I had a knack and did a few

  high-profile hack jobs just to prove I could. A narrow miss with the law and

  a close family friend shook me up.” He sips his coffee and I do the same.

  “You don’t seem to be staying at the apartment.”

  “You just keep missing me. I’ve been in and out early and late.” I

  push to my feet. “I need to run. Good seeing you.”

  “Good seeing you too, Amy. Maybe I’ll catch up to you again soon.”

  I step onto the street, and all I can think is what looks like a goldfish

  in the pond could be a shark swimming at my feet. Nothing is right and

  everything is wrong. I think I need to leave before I pull Liam into the

  quicksand that is swallowing me. But if I leave, I’m not sure he will look for

  me, even if it’s only out of obligation, and he will put himself at risk. I don’t

  know what to do. I need a plan, but my mind just keeps flashing an image

  of the graduation ring on Jared’s hand, blocking out everything else. The