Providence

Chapter Five Disclosure

“Nina! For the love of Christ, why didn’t you call me?”

“I’m fine, Mom. I wasn’t hurt,” I said, swaying as she tugged and pulled on me to look me over.

She clutched me into her arms tightly. “Nina Elizabeth Grey, if anything had happened to you, I swear to God… I swear to God, I would have never forgiven him.”

“I’m pretty sure those men wouldn’t have cared if you forgave them or not, Mom.”

She gave me a wry look and hugged me again. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. You’re safe, that is what’s important.”

“Did Beth call you?” I asked, trying to keep my eyes open.

“What do you mean did Beth call me?” Her voice raised an octave. “I’m not allowed to see for myself that my only child is safe after she is…is attacked in the street by some junkie? Nina, you infuriate me sometimes! What were you doing at a bar, anyway? On that side of town, no less, you could have been killed! And you have the audacity to ask—”

“Okay, Mom! Okay! I’m sorry!” I pulled her to me. She was very near hysterics. Usually my mother didn’t go to such extremes, but she had enough to agonize over without me being assaulted in dark alleys.

Cynthia pulled away and held me at arm’s length. “Well, that’s enough of that,” she sighed, her typical poker face back into play. “Come, Dear. I’ll send someone for your car.”

I shook my head. “I’m going to stay here and wait for Ryan to wake up.”

“But you’re exhausted,” she argued in vain. We both knew I wouldn’t change my mind.

Cynthia patted my knee and stood. “I expect you to be in your bed resting in four hours. No excuses, young lady.”

I nodded as she clicked down the hallway. I rubbed my eyes and leaned back against my seat. The television was on a medical channel, something about insurance and prescriptions. It didn’t take me long to lose interest.

Three hours later, the ICU nurse stood at my side. “Nina?”

“Yes?” I sat up and blinked my eyes.

“My name is Jenny. I’m Ryan’s nurse,” she smiled. “He’s awake. He’s asking for you.”

I stood up and walked with her to the double doors. Before we made it through, a disheveled woman scampered down the hall toward us. She wore a brown waitress’ uniform and her frizzy black hair failed miserably at staying in the messy bun she’d fashioned.

“I’m looking for Ryan Scott! I was told he’s in ICU?” she puffed.

Jenny looked at me and then back to her. “Are you his…?”

“Mother! I’m his mom. He’s here? Is he okay?” she said, breathless. “I’m Callie Scott. I’d like to see him, please.”

Jenny extended an apologetic smile and then turned to Callie. “He’s here, Ms. Scott. I’ll show you to his room.”

I trudged back to my seat, glancing at my watch. According to Cynthia, I had less than an hour to make my way home to rest. Unable to comply, I pulled my phone from my pocket to call in an explanation.

As I dialed, Jenny poked her head into the waiting room doorway. “Nina?”

“Yes?”

She smiled. “He would still like to see you.”

“Oh!” I said, surprised. I followed quickly behind her through the double doors and we stopped three rooms down. When she pulled back the heavy curtain, the rings grated across the metal bar.

She smiled to her left. “I found her. She didn’t leave.”

I peered into the room and inwardly cringed at the tubes and wires leading from Ryan’s body.

“Hey, Nigh,” he rasped.

I managed a half grin. “Today is the only day I’ll let you get away with that.”

Ryan laughed and then winced.

“Take it easy, Baby,” Callie said, searching for a place to touch him that wasn’t attached to a monitor or IV pump. She settled on brushing back his hair.

“Mom, don’t fuss,” he whispered, leaning away from her nervous stroking.

“Chad, Beth and Josh were here earlier; they’ll be back,” I said, touching his foot.

Ryan nodded. “Is Jared still here?”

I shook my head, making the corners of Ryan’s mouth turn up. I wasn’t sure how much he had seen, or how much he remembered.

“It’s a good thing he’s stalking you.”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s not stalking me.”

“How else do you explain him showing up out of nowhere?” Ryan pressed.

“Who’s stalking you? Is this the man that attacked my son?” Callie’s face compressed with concern.

“No, Mom. He’s the guy that kept us all from getting killed,” Ryan said, watching my face.

Callie looked to me, still wanting answers.

I fidgeted under her stare. “He’s a friend of mine that came just in time.”

“As usual,” Ryan frowned. “You look like hell. Get some sleep.”

“I can sleep later,” I argued. Of course he would be worried about me while he was lying in a hospital bed.

“You can sleep now. My mom’s here, I don’t need both of you whining over every little thing.”

“I don’t whine,” I said, feigning insult.

“You can be kinda whiny,” he smiled and tapped his cheek. I maneuvered around the tubes and wires to kiss the spot he had indicated. Being this close to someone covered in hospital paraphernalia caused my ribs to wrench in an all too familiar way. I bit my lip with apprehension.

“Hey,” he reached up an arm to brush my cheek with the back of his fingers. “I’m going to be fine. I’d do it again if I had to.”

My face fell at his words. I knew how he felt about me, and how it would end. I couldn’t stand it if I ever hurt Ryan enough for him to hate me.

My hands grabbed his. “You just concentrate on getting well before you start planning more knife fights, all right?”

He grinned. “Sweet dreams, Nina.”

I walked into the dark, curtains drawn and all bulbs extinguished. Beth was still cocooned inside her comforter breathing heavily. I peeled off my coat and fell face down onto my bed.

I tried to lay as still as possible; I didn’t want to let my mind wander. Allowing thoughts would mean envisioning the attack, the blood, the eyes of the man that would cut off my hand to take my ring; the chilling sound of Ryan’s cry when he was impaled and Kim’s horrified expression in the car. I didn’t even want to dwell on Jared’s lips. I just wanted to sleep.

My eyes shot open to the sound of the door quietly pulling closed.

“Beth?” I called, listening for any motion from her side of the room. She didn’t answer.

I leaned up on my elbows and blinked my eyes several times until I could see clearly that Beth’s bed was empty and made. A note was on the back of the door, so I pushed myself slowly from the bed and ambled across the cold floor.

Went with Chad and Josh to the hospital. See you there. ~Beth

Ryan wouldn’t be at the hospital alone. Of course his mother might still be there, but it was good that he would have his friends around him. Beth would be home late, I assumed. I looked at the clock.

Six o’clock!

Scrambling from the bed, I rushed to change and brush my teeth, pulling my hair haphazardly into a ponytail. Just as I grabbed my keys, my stomach growled. Going off campus alone immediately seemed like a bad idea, and hoping for something edible at the hospital was being overly optimistic. Dinner at the Gate meant a long walk in the bitter cold outside, which would keep my mind off more troubling circumstances. I zipped up my coat and locked the door behind me.

Soon I was within a dozen yards of my destination. I was right; shivering with every step had been the perfect diversion from the night before. I puffed out a steamy breath of relief as my mind concentrated on the warmth and subsequent thaw the doors of The Gate assured me.

Before my hand reached the door handle, a man stepped from the shadows.

I jerked to a stop. “Mr. Dawson?”

“Do you have the file?” he asked, his eyes intent.

Still on edge from the attack, my hands balled into fists and I shoved them in my pockets. I glanced at the door handle, seeing that it was just a foot or two from me.

I forced my body to relax. “Mr. Rosen isn’t familiar with your transaction, but I could give you his number, if you’d like.”

“So you’ll help me, then?” his eyes narrowed.

“I’m not sure why you would think this incessant harassment would encourage me to be of assistance to you at all.” I was lying, of course. I knew how the intimidation game worked. I’d seen my father win it many times.

“Nina, I’ve told you what I’m looking for. Your father and I—,”

“Were involved in a property deal. You’ve said that,” I interrupted. “I’m his daughter, not his business partner. Please call Mr. Rosen.”

I reached for the door, but Mr. Dawson grabbed my arm. With a quick jerk, he yanked me toward him. I gasped as he whispered in my ear with his guttural, growling voice. “I’m not playing games with you, little girl. Your father has documents and photos that I want. The last time I saw them, they were in a file in his office marked Port of Providence. I want that entire file, do you understand me? Unless you want mommy to have to deal with me later, I suggest you do as I ask.”

Threatening my mother sent a courageous voice emanating from my throat, “Stay away from her!”

Mr. Dawson snorted. “Just like Jack…never know when to back down.”

“My father didn’t back down!”

“And that’s what got him killed!” Mr. Dawson snarled, jerking my arm again.

I felt my eyes widen in stunned disbelief. His reply didn’t make sense. My father died after his car accident.

Mr. Dawson sighed and loosened his grip. “I’m doin’ you a favor, Peach. You don’t want caught within a hundred yards of that package. There are more dangerous things than me out there wantin’ it worse than I do. Bring it to me, and you and your mother will have a lot less to worry about.”

His fingers slipped away from my arm, and he disappeared into the shadows of the neighboring building. I leaned my head against the frosty glass door, trying to gain the courage to move. Once the adrenaline absorbed into my body, I sucked in a gasp of air and slid to the ground.

He didn’t come. I was in danger, and Jared didn’t come. I was surprised when the correlation hit me, and I wondered if I had just realized it or if I had known all along. The last time Mr. Dawson approached me, Jared was a no-show as well, but I reasoned that Ryan had been there. Ryan had controlled the situation enough so that Jared wasn’t needed. But this time I was alone. This time I needed him.

Someone pushed the door open against me. “Are you all right?” A short, dark haired boy with glasses came into view, poking his head through the semi-open door.

“Did you want to come in?” the boy asked, confused at his discovery.

I pushed myself off the ground. “No, thank you,” I said, quickly turning toward Andrews.

I didn’t look back to see his inevitable bewildered expression; I was too intent on my mission. I would return to my mother’s house and turn it upside down if I had to. I ran down the hall to the open elevator and tapped the button of my floor several times, leaning back against the rail. As the doors finally closed, my mother squeezed by them, causing them to jolt open once more.

“I trust you’ve slept,” she said.

“Is that why you’re here?” I asked, surprised.

“Do I need a reason?” She was very nearly offended, but dismissed my question to address more important things. “Nina, honestly. You look frightful. How much sleep did you get?”

“Enough,” I stepped out of the elevator and pulled her with me.

“What are you doing?” she asked, reluctant to be dragged along.

“I want to go home. Can I go home with you?”

“Of course.” I was sure she was curious what had possessed me to make such an atypical request; I had treated our home like ground zero of a quarantined leper colony since the funeral.

I tugged at her coat to quicken her pace and she abruptly stopped. “What is going on, Nina?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, pulling at her arm again.

“This!” she said, motioning to my hand on her arm. “This is what I mean. What is so urgent?”

I exhaled in a frustrated puff. “Beth is at the hospital and I don’t want to be alone. I’m sorry if I’m being overly enthusiastic.”

“Enthusiastic? Nina, you haven’t tugged on my coat like that since you were five. Is there another reason you want to go home?”

I stared at her blankly. I didn’t want to lie to her again.

“All right,” she sighed. “Robert is waiting in the car.”

En route, Cynthia fiddled with her carefully placed French bun and asked generic questions about school. She was suspicious of my behavior, but as was the norm with my mother, she insisted on overlooking the obvious to obtain a false sense of security. She didn’t speak for the rest of the trip home to keep from spoiling the illusion with trivial things like the truth.

Robert slowed when he entered our long drive. My mother smiled at him when he opened her door, and I followed behind her to the house.

Once inside, I peeled off my scarf, hat, coat, and finally my gloves. I rubbed the residual chill still clinging to my arms, methodically going over my plan in my mind.

“Nina, don’t hover in doorways. It’s rude.”

“I’m going upstairs,” I said in passing.

I rushed to my father’s office, hoping my eyes would open to something I had missed before. I walked along the outer edges of the room and ran my hand along the surface of the wall, feeling the uneven texture with my fingertips. I tried not to concentrate on any one thing; I wanted to leave my mind open to any clues that I might have overlooked before.

My fingertips grazed the spines of my father’s books. I pulled a few of them out and looked behind them, knocking on the wall they stood against. I crawled under his desk and felt for anything abnormal.

When I found nothing, I returned to the walls, the cabinets, and then the bookcase. I went over them all again, trying to see them a different way, to touch them differently, to appraise them for anything that seemed out of place. As my patience waned, so did my objectivity. I began plowing through the cabinets as I had before, slamming them shut and muttering under my breath.

I sat on the floor against the front of Jack’s desk and stared across the room with my elbows on my knees. The answers were here; I was missing something.

I lifted my chin in interest when my father’s favorite painting caught my eye. I scrambled to my feet and reached under the edges of the large frame. Determined, I reached closer to its center, knelt down and peered under it, and even pulled it a bit from the wall. I didn’t see anything remarkable, so I reached up blindly, hoping to find something that didn’t belong. There was nothing.

I stomped in anger. “DADDY!”

I looked around the room with my hands defiantly on my hips, blowing my bangs from my face. There were four other paintings in the room. I rushed each one, mimicking the sweep I’d just done with the larger painting. I ripped the fourth one off the wall and searched the backside of the frame. Looking at the now-empty wall, I felt another scream of aggravation coming on.

How could there be nothing in his office? No safes, no secret doorways, no….

Keys. There were keys in Jack’s desk. The first time I’d searched his office I assumed they were his car keys. But the car he drove himself — his Jag — was totaled. Scrap metal. What were the keys to?

In my haste to get to the desk, my hip smashed into the corner with a loud crack. I stifled a cry and doubled over, using the desk to steady myself. I attempted to rub the sting away with one hand, and pulled open the drawer containing the keys with the other. I held the keys in my palm, trying to remember if I’d seen a lock that the keys might fit. I slowly turned my head toward the wall of cabinets. The center tower of files was locked.

Surely, he wouldn’t be this obvious, I thought.

I hobbled to the cabinets and tugged on the drawer. It was still locked.

The first key only went in half way. I tried three more keys; the fourth easily slid in, but wouldn’t turn. Two keys later, I found myself cursing my father, Mr. Dawson, even the metal in my hands. I gripped the last key between my thumb and finger and closed my eyes.

The key slid in, and I rotated my wrist. It began to turn, and then caught. None of the keys were to the locked file cabinet.

“Damn it!” I said, throwing the keys to the floor. I kicked the cabinet, walked away, and then returned to land another kick, this time denting the bottom.

Limping across the floor, I picked up the keys and tossed them into the desk drawer. I was done.

I walked down the hall with my hand still pressed against my throbbing hip and stopped at the top of the stairs. Cynthia’s voice was weary as she spoke on the phone. Idling for a moment before taking the first stair, I heard her speak my name.

“Nina’s fine. She’s upstairs, resting. What do you expect me to do? Forbid her to…? Honestly, you worry too much! She just didn’t want to be alone tonight. I heard some commotion upstairs; I assumed she knocked something over. It mustn’t have been as bad as…,” she sighed, “yes. I’ll check on her. Goodnight.”

Cynthia turned to look up at me. I sheepishly waved, cursing under my breath for getting caught eavesdropping.

“Are you all right, Dear?” she called.

“I’m fine. Ran into a desk; bumped my side. Who was that?”

She shrugged. “Was it really necessary to yell out such profanities while I’m on the phone? My friends were under the impression that I had raised a lady.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was being so loud.”

Cynthia nodded dismissively. “I’ve got a beautiful ham in the oven. You’ll be staying for dinner, won’t you?”

“Er…yes. I was going to stop by the hospital, but it can wait.”

Cynthia made her way up the stairs. I followed into her study where she set some unopened envelopes on her desk.

“How is your friend doing?” she asked, I assumed just to be polite.

“I’m not sure, I haven’t been back since this morning, but no one’s called to tell me otherwise. I’m sure there’s been improvement.”

“Wonderful news, Dear,” she said, preoccupied.

She pulled her pearl drop earrings from her ears, and placed them on the silver tray that sat on a small table near the wall. My eyes wandered to a hutch that matched her table and desk. The fronds of a plant obscured the top cabinet, and I zeroed in on a small silver circle on the top right corner.

“Coming, Nina?” Cynthia asked, pausing at the door.

“I’ll be down in a minute. I wanted to check my e-mail, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she smiled. “Don’t be late for dinner.”

I watched her walk out the door and waited as she descended the stairs. Once she was deeper into the lower level, I sprinted down the hall to my father’s office. Yanking open his desk drawer, I grabbed the small silver ring of keys.

With a sense of excitement, I hurried back to my mother’s study and pulled the plant to the floor. It was heavier than it appeared, and I grunted as I worked to set it down without overturning the whole pot onto its side.

After the first five keys failed, I blew my bangs from my face with a puff of air. Only two keys left. The sixth key slid in, and when I turned my wrist and the key continued to turn ninety degrees, I gasped.

Pulling the cabinet door open, I peered behind me for a just a moment, afraid of what my mother would say if she caught me snooping in her things. There were several files, so I pulled all of them out and spread them on the floor. On my knees, I thumbed through contracts, shipping papers, a receipt for the ring my father bought me, insurance claims and filings, and the occasional deposit slip.

I slid one folder to the side to uncover another with Jack’s no-nonsense scribble on it.

Port of Providence

My hands shook as I opened the flap of the folder. Did I really want to know? I felt I was opening Pandora’s Box.

Sitting on top, I found a thick, wrinkled manila envelope. I pulled the packet from the file and opened it. It contained a stack of black and white photos. Picture after picture featured a dozen or so different men, but those same faces appeared over and over, at times alone, and at other times together. One man that was most often the subject in the pictures stood beside the governor of Rhode Island. Another man was pictured in both casual clothes and some type of uniform; I assumed he was a police officer in formal blues.

I’d seen enough movies to know that these were surveillance photos. I turned each of the pictures over, but they were all unmarked. I had never seen these men before that I could remember, and I couldn’t fathom why my father would have them photographed. I looked at the file on the floor, knowing I was about to find out.

A hand-written sheet of paper caught my eye, and I poured over it. I flipped to the next page, and the next. My heart pounded as the words burned into my irises. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be.

“Nina? Dinner!”

I rushed to gather the files and shoved them into Cynthia’s hutch. I locked the cabinet door and heaved the clay pot back to its shelf. After returning the keys to Jack’s desk drawer, I met Cynthia in the dining room.

I sat in my usual chair, across from my mother. A steaming plate of food waited for me on fine china, and I grimaced as the mouth-watering smell invaded my nose. I realized I hadn’t eaten since five o’clock the evening before. I was famished, but couldn’t eat.

“Aren’t you hungry, dear?”

I furrowed my brow and stabbed a carrot with my fork. Her strained politeness would soon be chipped away and all the pleasantries would cease.

“Not really.”

“Well, why not?” I waited for the right words to come and she rolled her eyes with impatience. “Really, Nina. You know I don’t like it when—”

“Has Daddy always been a criminal, or was it something he took up just before he died?” I blurted out, unconcerned with the consequences.

Cynthia’s fork fell to her plate with a shrill clang. She didn’t say anything for a long while. We both held our breath, waiting for the other to speak.

“What…did you say?” she finally whispered.

“You heard me.”

“No. I don’t believe I did. I’m sure you misspoke,” her eyes fluttered as she ended her sentence.

“Port of Providence.” I sat slightly forward in my chair, watching her expression change from insult to shock.

“What? Where did you hear th—,” Cynthia stopped mid-sentence and shook her head. She was flustered, which she rarely experienced.

“I saw the file, Mother. Was it organized crime, or did he just skim off the top at the docks? You know his payroll was full of dirty cops, right?”

“Nina Elizabeth Grey! You will shut your mouth this instant!” I could see the wheels in her head turning, and then she stood up to come to my side of the table, sitting beside me. “You saw files. What files?” I could tell her fury was subdued, she would address my disrespect later.

“The files locked in the hutch in your study, Mother. Stop playing dumb.”

Her eyes tightened; my rudeness narrowly outweighed her curiosity. “I’ve never played dumb in my life, Nina. Why on earth would you—,”

“I want the truth.” I didn’t let my eyes move an inch from her gaze.

“I didn’t bother myself with your father’s business dealings,” she said, turning away.

“But you know what I’m talking about when I say Port of Providence, don’t you?” My accusing eyes bored into her.

Cynthia nodded slightly. “That’s not something you want to admit to having knowledge of, Nina. Forget you saw any of that,” she whispered.

“Forget—,” I was in shock. My father was a…a….criminal? A thief? My face twisted into disgust. “He stole from the distributors he shipped for, he sold things on the black market, he smuggled illegal contraband, and he used cops to cover up his dirty work…police officers, Mother! All of which he gathered evidence against to keep them from turning on him!” My eyes glossed over with anger. “Everything we have is from blood money. Jack had people beaten…he’s had people killed.”

Cynthia wiped a tear and looked down at her lap. This took me off-guard; I had only seen my mother cry a handful of times, all of them following Jack’s accident and death.

“Oh, Jack,” she whispered, shaking her head slowly. She looked at me with sympathetic eyes, “You were never supposed to see those things, Nina. Your father was always so careful to keep you safe from that part of his life. He hasn’t been gone six months and I’ve failed him.” Cynthia rose to her feet and walked slowly to the door.

I pushed myself away from the table and called after her. “Tell me I’m wrong, Mother. I need you to tell me this is a mistake.” My voice was closer to begging than the firm tone I’d meant to take.

Cynthia didn’t turn around; she wiped another tear and sighed.

I took a deep breath and braced myself. “Charles Dawson wants those files.”

“He knew where they were?” she shrieked, flipping around.

Anger surged through me. “You know who he is?”

“He worked for your father,” she said, touching her mouth nervously in thought.

I sat up higher in my chair, my muscles rigid. “Why is he harassing me, Mother? Why aren’t you upset about that?”

“Nina, Dear,” her tone turned soft, “I told you. Your father did everything in his power to keep you removed from his dealings. I understand you were frightened; but you were safe, I promise.”

“What does that mean? Why won’t anyone give me a straight answer?”

Cynthia tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, the way she did when I was little. “Wouldn’t you agree that after tonight, some things are better left unsaid?”

My immediate reaction was to scream at her and demand the truth, but she was right. I had lost my father again tonight, the reverence I’d once felt for him was replaced with debilitating disappointment. It was worse than losing him to death. All perception I’d had of him had been ripped away. He was no longer God in my eyes, he was just a man; a flawed, corrupt man.

I considered Cynthia’s suggestion and nodded.

She lifted my chin. “I’m so sorry, Love.”

“I’ve got to get out of here,” I blurted, turning away from her touch. Everything I knew was a lie. I left her alone to fetch my coat.

“Where are you going?” she called after me.

“For a walk,” I said, bundling myself inside my hat and gloves.

“It’s freezing outside, Nina! Be reasonable! Please let Robert drive you!”

I yanked my purse over my shoulder and jerked open the door. “I’ll walk to the bus stop and catch a ride to Brown. I’ll call you when I get there.” I avoided her inevitably pleading eyes as I marched outside, slamming the door behind me.

Winter exploded in my face. The air was too cold to breathe, burning my nose and throat with each gasp of air that I took in. The wind had picked up and the large snowflakes whipped around me. My hair thrashed against my face and I squinted as the icy wind blurred my vision.

I tried to sort all of the new information, but the freezing air along with my anger blocked any rational thought I could have. I reached the end of the drive and trudged into the street, walking as fast as my legs could carry me. My home had become a dark, wicked thing where corruption and scandal took place. I couldn’t bring myself to look back, even though I had no intentions of returning.

When the painful burn from the wind began to wane to a numbing sensation, I heard a vehicle slow down beside me. I continued to walk; I wasn’t in the mood to explain myself or argue with Robert. He was less capable of changing my mind than my mother.

“Nina?”

I knew that voice. It belonged to the one person I wanted to see. When I came to a stop, so did his SUV.

“I’m taking the bus, Jared,” I said, looking straight ahead.

“No, you’re not. I’ve come to take you home.”

I stood perfectly still except for the occasional weaving when the wind attempted to knock me over.

“Nina, it’s freezing outside,” he said, impatient.

When I didn’t budge, Jared opened his door and walked over to me. He stared at me for a moment and then bent down, sweeping me into his arms. He carried me to the passenger side, pressing his warm lips to my forehead.

He placed me gently into the seat and paused. “What were you thinking?”

I couldn’t utter a single word. I felt broken; it was all too much for me to accept in such a short amount of time.

Once in his seat, he turned the heater to its highest setting and pulled forward. Occasionally, Jared would reach over and brush my hair back from my face, or hold his warm hand affectionately to my cheek, but the only sounds were the heated air blowing through the vents and the road under the tires.

The Escalade came to a stop on the street behind Andrews. Jared walked with me to the door in silence, but when I put my hand on the knob, he touched my arm.

“Nina, I know it’s a lot to take in, but he loved you.”

My eyes focused and I shot a glare at him. “You knew my father?”

Jared’s eyes tensed in anguish. “I know everything that he did…he did out of love for you, Nina. You were his world.”

“You don’t know anything about him,” I said through my teeth. “You don’t know anything about me, and unless you give me some answers, you can leave. I am sick of being lied to!”

“I’ve never lied to you,” Jared said, angry and shocked that I had dismissed him so easily.

“Why are you so secretive? Why do you always know where I am? How did you save us this morning? How did you do all of that?”

“This morning you were fine with not knowing all the details.”

“That was before I found out my entire life was a lie.” Angry tears overflowed and rushed down my cheeks. “I just need one thing in my life — just one — that I know is real. I need someone to be honest with me!”

“Nina,” Jared whispered, reaching out for me. I pushed him away and he winced. “Don’t do that. I’ve had to stand by and watch you cry so many times…I can’t do it anymore.”

“What does that mean?” I asked him, keeping him at arm’s length. “What do you mean you’ve watched me cry? Please just tell me the truth!”

Jared hesitated and then sighed. “I can’t. Believe me when I say I wish to God that I could, but I can’t.” His eyes were heavy with a lifetime’s worth of frustration.

“I believe you,” I said, opening the door. “I don’t want to see you anymore. Please leave me alone.”

“Nina….” Jared said. I met his eyes one last time before shutting the door behind me. He knocked twice. “Nina,” he said in a low, desperate tone.

I pressed my head against the door and let out a weak, muffled cry. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t worthy enough for the truth. Anger took hold of me again, and I pushed away from the door, making my way to my room.

Beth sat at her desk, clicking the keyboard on her lap top when I swung the door open. She jumped and turned when the door knob hammered against the wall.

“Where were you? Ryan was waiting for you to come.” Her eyes bulged when she saw the expression on my face. “Nina?”

“I went to The Gate to get a bite to eat before heading to the hospital, but I ran into Mr. Dawson,” I said, slumping onto my bed.

“Mr. Dawson?” Her voice flew up an octave. “Why was he at The Gate?”

“He grabbed me, told me he wanted me to get the papers for him—“

“He grabbed you? Does Jared know?”

My eyes darted to hers with suspicion. “What makes you ask that?”

She hesitated, picking at her delicate fingers. “He always seems to have the best timing.”

“He didn’t show up this time.”

She leaned her head closer so that I would look at her. “Have you seen him today?”

“He just dropped me off,” I sighed.

“I don’t understand. He didn’t show up, but he brought you home?”

“Can we not talk about this anymore?”

“Oh. Sure. I’m sorry.” She dropped her arm from my shoulder and left me to sit on her own bed.

After a few moments, Beth sighed and fidgeted.

“What, Beth?”

“Nina…,” I waited for her to gain the courage for whatever it was she was struggling with. She took another breath, but it didn’t equip her with the bravery she was hoping for.

“What is it?”

“You love him,” she blurted out, quickly bracing for my reaction.

“I don’t love him. I don’t know anything about him.”

“How much is enough to know about someone before you can love them?”

I thought back to the way I felt when I was around him, the way his touch sent electricity through my body; the way his eyes melted me when he looked beyond my irises to something deeper, as if he could see my emotions dance around inside of me. I felt protected and whole in his presence that rivaled even the absolute security and love I felt being near my father. I shuddered when I considered how miserable my life would be if Jared did as I asked and left me alone.

“You love him,” Beth confirmed as she watched my expression. “He loves you, too, you know. It’s so obvious, almost as if he loved you before you met.” I shook my head in denial and Beth’s voice raised a tone higher. “Nina. Seriously? After everything that’s happened?”

“If he does, it’s not enough to trust me with the truth.” I winced at my own words. I didn’t realize how hurtful it would be to say them out loud.

“He’s still not talking, huh?”

“I told him to leave me alone tonight.” Beth began to speak but I continued, “I didn’t mean it. Well, I meant it, but it’s not what I want. All he has to do is be honest with me, and he just…refuses.”

“Why do you have to understand it? Can’t you just be with him and forget about the rest?”

“Be with him how? I don’t even know where he lives. I don’t know his phone number, if he’s right or left-handed, or his birthday…I don’t know anything about him,” I said, disgusted with my predicament.

“I’ve seen you two together. It will all work out,” she smiled.

I rolled my eyes at her simple solution. Beth’s logic made my feelings more complicated than necessary, and I was glad when she seemed to give up. I was devastated about Jack, furious with Cynthia and found Jared guilty on principle. Other than that I didn’t want to think about it. Anger was easier to control than feeling betrayed.

Thursday morning I followed Beth to the table reserved for the coffee pots and various sugars and other creamers. Per her usual, Kim appeared behind us and complained about our additives. I gripped my travel mug with both hands, keeping in line with my friends.

Beth stopped in her tracks, initiating a pile-up. I slammed into Kim, and the coffee I held exploded from the slit in the lid, splattering in a vertical line from collar to hem of my coat.

“Beth!” Kim and I both yelped in unison.

I looked down at my coat and used my mittens to brush off the dripping, mocha-colored liquid. Someone abruptly grabbed my arm and yanked me forward. I didn’t have time to see which of my girlfriends it was, because Jared’s incredible blue-grey eyes caught my attention the second I looked up.

I took quicker steps than I should have to be within conversation distance, but once I stood within a few feet of him, I couldn’t speak.

“Running late, aren’t you?” Jared said, seeming pleased at my reaction.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, baffled.

He laughed and looked down. I saw from my peripheral that Beth and Kim were just as awestruck as I was. I couldn’t imagine what had possessed him to show up here, and I was even more clueless at his carefree manner; as if our conversation from the night before had never taken place.

“Will you have a seat?”

I sat down immediately, in an almost comical fashion. He usually didn’t make an appearance unless he had something important he needed to say, or if there was trouble. The scenarios were flashing through my mind. I stared at him in silence, waiting for the answer.

He crossed his arms on the table and leaned toward me. “I know you said to leave you alone, but I did a lot of thinking last night and I had to see you. We need to talk.”

My mouth opened a bit in shock, and I shut it just as I looked up at Kim and Beth. Their mouths were in a similar state.

“We’ll, er…meet you in class, Nigh,” Kim said, raising her eyebrows.

I grimaced as they abandoned me. My shoulders felt so tense they seemed to be hovering around my ears. I took a deep breath, and forced them down to their proper position.

Jared appeared nervous and he swallowed. “Did I cross a line?”

“I want answers, Jared.”

The corners of his mouth turned up as he slid a card over to my side of the table.

I pinched the thin paper between my fingers and examined it. It was a generically ivory business card with his name and company name in chocolate brown writing. My heart kicked into high gear upon reading the next line, which contained his phone number.

“You’re giving me your number?”

“I am.” He waited for a moment with an expectant stare, and then I understood what it was that he wanted.

“Oh!” I said, scrambling to search my backpack for something to write on. I scribbled my name and number on a piece of paper and slid it to him, mimicking his smooth, single movement.

Jared grinned and poked the paper into his inside jacket pocket.

“What if that’s not my number?” I asked. “What if it’s the number to an anger management clinic for your sister?”

Jared shook his head, laughing once. “Then I’d give it to her. But I hope it’s yours. I need it to ask you to dinner properly.”

I could hear my heart pounding inside my chest, and when I thought he might be able to hear it, I felt my cheeks flush.

“I told you I needed answers, first,” I said, trying to seem calmer than I felt.

“I told you we were going to talk, didn’t I?” His eyes were bright with amusement, even seeming a lighter shade of blue. “I’m going to call you this afternoon. Will that be all right?”

“Why don’t you just ask me, now?” I said, incinerating any chance of seeming indifferent.

“Is that what you want?” he asked, raising his brow.

I nodded and a broad smile lit up his face. “Would you have dinner with me tomorrow?”

“I’d love to. Thank you.”

“I don’t want to make you late.” Even as he said the words, he seemed in no hurry to say goodbye.

We both stood, and Jared held the door open for me as we walked into the morning air. It felt surreal to be walking next to him on campus. He seemed less like a figment of my imagination surrounded by the scenery of my everyday life.

“I’ll pick you up around six thirty?” he asked, lightly grazing my finger tips with his. Electricity immediately shot up my arm, and my heart hammered against my ribs.

“Sounds perfect.” I couldn’t have chosen words more true.

Kim and Beth were waiting for me just inside the building, and I tried to keep from jumping up and down as I approached.

“What happened?” Beth said, grabbing my arm.

“We’re going out tomorrow night. Six-thirty,” I beamed.

“Yay!” Beth said, clapping.

Kim and I continued upstairs to our class. She wasn’t nearly as animated as Beth.

“Ryan isn’t going to be happy,” she said.

I angled my neck to emphasize my irritation. “I’m not with Ryan, Kim. He doesn’t get to be unhappy about it.”

“I know…I just think its poor timing on your part for you to go on a date with Jared when Ryan’s still in the hospital for trying to save your life.”

“Are you saying it’s wrong for me to go out with Jared because I’m obligated to Ryan now, since he was hurt defending me? Is that what you’re getting at?” I countered, pausing in front of our classroom.

“No. I am definitely not saying that. That would be very Casablanca of me.”

Kim smiled when I rolled my eyes at her, and we walked to our seats together.