Page 14 of Bit's Bliss
“As I said, I’ll take care of it. Anything else?”
“Rumor is her former fiancé may have played a significant role in Malcolm’s decision to merge with the WC.”
“I’ll get in touch with Alex about the bid.” As far as what role Eberly’s ex had played, it wasn’t any of my business. More, I didn’t give a shit.
Brix finished the wine in his glass and stood. He was almost to the door when he turned around. “Why are you covering her bid if you weren’t aware of her father’s financial situation?”
“Because I want to.” I stuck the cork in the unfinished bottle and picked up both our glasses. “See ya, Brix.”
“Right. See ya, Bit.”
I hung out for a few minutes after he left, looking at what had been transformed from a dirty, dilapidated building slated for a wrecking ball to amazing. While I’d done my part, it was Eberly’s touch that transformed it into something magical.
After shutting off the twinkling lights overhead that I’d turned on when I came in, I stepped outside and locked the door. As I walked past the roses that had been planted at the base of the stone wall, I saw a bloom I hadn’t noticed before. Rather than pink, like Eberly had told me the flowers would be, this one was pure white. I reached for it but caught a thorn instead. When I pulled my hand away, drops of blood landed on the pristine petal, ruining its beauty in the same way I would Eberly if I let her get too close.
6
EBERLY
After cleaning up the kitchen, I made another cup of coffee, went outside, and walked around the garden. On cloud-free days especially, I felt my mother’s presence all around me. It was as though the sun’s rays wrapped me in the same warmth her hugs always had. There were times when I missed her so much it was hard to breathe.
I longed to talk to her about Trevino. About how his visit this morning had confused me and how being close to him had made me feel as though my heart would beat out of my chest.
“Be careful what you wish for, Eberly. You might not like it as much as you think you will,” he’d said right before leaving. I couldn’t stop myself, though. I wanted his hands, his lips, his tongue on me and to feel his hardness between my legs. I meant it when I said I couldn’t imagine anything he’d do to me that I wouldn’t like. I craved the darkness I sensed justbeneath the surface of everything he said and did in the same way a moth couldn’t stay away from a flame.
I spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon pulling weeds and pruning the plants I’d neglected since I started working for Trevino.
When I heard a loud crash coming from inside the house, I flinched. Before I could get to my feet to see what had happened, my father stormed out the kitchen door.
“I warned you not to involve her. I have no control over the money left to her, and what’s more, I’d sooner die than let you get your hands on it or her,” he shouted into his phone. “You come near her again, and I’ll end you. Do you fucking understand me?”
Those were the last words I heard him say before he got in his car and sped off, throwing gravel from the drive onto the lawn where I sat. I lowered my head, and when I raised it, he was long gone.
I’d left my cell phone inside and went in to grab it, hoping he’d left a message as to where he was going. When I didn’t see one, I checked his study.
Papers were strewn everywhere, and when I knelt down to pick them up, I saw evidence of the crash I’d heard. A bronze sphere that usually sat on his deskwas on the floor, and right above it, a large oval mirror was shattered. A glass vase that sat beneath it had also broken into several pieces that were scattered on the floor. I made my way over to his desk, careful not to step on the shards of glass, and picked up an envelope that had been torn open but sat face down. The return address was from a bank whose name I recognized and inside was a letter. My hand shook as I unfolded it, and I gasped when I read what it contained.
Unless an ungodly sum of money was paid by the end of the day tomorrow, our house would go into foreclosure. Was it even worth the amount they were demanding?
I sat in my dad’s chair, still holding the letter, and called his cell. When it rang several times, then went to voicemail, I sent an urgent text, asking him to get in touch with me as soon as possible.
When I still hadn’t heard from him by early evening, I called Baron Van Orr, Isabel’s father and my dad’s best friend. He apologized but said they hadn’t spoken in several weeks. That in itself was troubling.
I couldn’t think of anyone else to call and ask if they’d seen or heard from him other than Nancy, but I didn’t have her number.
I stayed in the same place, hardly moving except to breathe, until after the sun had set.
I must have drifted to sleep, but woke when the landline rang. I checked the time and saw it was a few minutes after ten, and since my dad obviously still wasn’t home, I ignored it. I’d seen enough slasher movies to imagine the ways my answering it could go wrong.
When it rang a second, third, fourth, then fifth time, I started to get freaked out. I slid from the chair to the floor and called the one person I could think of other than my father, who still wasn’t picking up.
Trevino answered on the first ring. “Eberly? What’s wrong?”
“My dad is gone. He left this afternoon, and I can’t reach him.” When the landline rang again, I squeezed my eyes shut and put my finger in my other ear. “I think someone is at the gate. I don’t know what to do.”
“Where are you now?” he asked.
“Home.”
