The Wrangler (The Yacht Club #2)

Chapter 18

Eighteen

ALEX

Fuck Stone . All I want to do is get back to my normal routine. Build out the condos, work on the second phase of the resort. Pretend this weekend never. Fucking. Happened.

But here I am, walking into some fancy pants lawyer’s office that’s gonna cost me every dime I have saved to do nothing because there’s nothing to be done. Sheriff Littlejohn, Alyss’s dad, SJ’s uncle, has no authority over me in Colorado. And I ain’t never stepping foot in Texas again no matter how much I miss my momma and my family.

Whatever ruse they had going, Sarah Jane and her uncle, is a big fat zero. The consent form, the fact that she’s a legal adult—I’m not sure how the sheriff convinced the local authorities to do a wellness check. Doesn’t matter. They cooked up a big nothin’ burger. I hope they choke on it.

The receptionist shows me to a conference room with oil paintings on the walls and cherry wood furniture. “Would you like a water, Mr. Craig.”

I tell the guy no.

“Mr. Litchfield will be with you momentarily.”

Lawyer word, “momentarily.” In a minute, shortly, in a sec. Those are words I can afford. I can’t afford “momentarily.” I should get up and walk out right now.

But the door opens and a sporty looking guy in dress slacks and a button down with the sleeves rolled up walks in. “Mr. Craig?”

I stand up and offer my hand. “Alex.”

“Alex, I’m Zach. Simon gave me a brief rundown of what happened this weekend but I want to hear the story from you.”

“I’m not here about what happened this weekend. Not really. There’s no charges, nothing they can do to me. But my friends, practically family, insisted I talk to you about what happened in Texas ten years ago to see if you can help with that.”

He indicates a chair for me to sit. “Okay if I take some notes?”

There’s a yellow tablet and a pen on the table I didn’t notice before. I shrug. “Sure.”

We sit. I take a deep breath. This guy looks like someone I should be catching a ball game with, not telling my darkest secret. But I don’t want to go home and admit I chickened out. “Ten years ago, I got accused of rape.”

Zach doesn’t flinch and he doesn’t write that down.

“I was eighteen. My girlfriend was three days away from her seventeenth birthday. It was graduation, for me. She still had another year. Her dad caught us in the hay barn. And since he’s the sheriff of the town I grew up in, well…”

Zach makes a couple scratches on the pad.

“How long had you been dating?”

“Couple years.”

“Having sex the whole time?”

I swallow hard. “No. First time.”

“Her mom and dad knew you two were dating?”

“Yep. Been to their house multiple times for Sunday dinner after church. They came to my football games. Alyss was a cheerleader.”

“So instead of grounding her, calling your mom and dad, the sheriff arrests you. Any reason why?”

Shit . “I had her tied up.”

Zach nods, makes a note. “Tell me about how you had her tied? Around the neck? Spread eagle? Paint me a picture.”

“God no. Her arms tied together like in a prayer position, over her head.” I press my forearms together and lift them up to show him before quickly dropping them. “And a few lines wrapped about her chest, framing her breasts.” My face is hot.

“Suspended or anchored anywhere?”

“No.” I didn’t have the skills back then. Plus it was our first time tying with sex. “I’d tied her up lot of times before, but with our clothes on. She’d let me practice with her.”

“Practice?”

“Hojojutsu. I learned it as part of my Jiu Jitsu studies. Not something really taught at the dojo, except for a few restraints. I guess I was fascinated because we use ropes for all kinds of stuff on the ranch. And learning new knots, quick ties, quick releases. It was cool. So I started researching on the internet, and that let me to Shibari. And…well…yeah.” I scrub my hand through my hair.

Zach nods. He asks me a few more questions about the exact date, the county in Texas I lived in. If I have any old friends that are still there. I tell him everything I can.

“When you were caught, did the sheriff arrest you?”

“Yeah.” The weight of the handcuffs settles on my wrists as if I’m really back there. “My dad had to come bail me out.”

“Did you see a judge?”

“Not right then. I was supposed to see the traveling judge the following week.”

“You didn’t?”

“Nah, my parents packed me up that night and put me on a bus to my older cousin in St. Louis. He got me a job in construction. Ain’t been back since.”

“All right. Give me a week or two for research and to get an idea of exactly what we’re dealing with here.” He goes on to explain his billing process but never offers an ounce of hope.

Like I figured, nothing can be done. But at least I can tell Stone and the rest of them I tried.

I blink back the bright sunlight when I step outside the offices. Felt like years passed by in there or at least hours, like it should be night by now.

“Alex?”

I turn. SJ.

The sight of her is like a mule kick to the chest.

The door behind me is closed, but I could retreat back inside.

“Please. Just let me speak. I know you don’t owe me a word, but I feel like I owe you.”

Nothing she says will matter or make a difference, but I’m not gonna argue. Her hair’s been fixed sort of. So short, it makes her blue eyes bigger. I stand there and wait for her to be done with me.

“My real name is Sarah Jane Reading. Alyss Littlejohn is my cousin.” She glances up at me but I don’t react. Figured that part out on my own.

“A few years back, I got into…some trouble. My uncle went to California and saved me. Or at least I thought he did.” She crosses her arms. “No, he did. But he also took pictures of the situation I was in. I few months ago, he offered to pay for writing retreat for me so I could become an author like I’d always dreamed of. It wasn’t until after I got here that he told me—blackmailed me—into catching or compromising Alyss’s rapist. He told me you took advantage of her—abused her. That the situation broke Alyss and that’s why his family left him, to move away from everyone who was making fun of her. He convinced me you ruined her life.”

Maybe I did. But I ruined my life too.

“I tried to convince me you were a monster who would try to take advantage of me.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I only wanted those pictures back.” Her eyes close. “So dumb. Especially when I got to…know you?—”

“Fucked me.”

She flinches and I wish I could take it back. My momma didn’t raise me to mean for mean’s sake.

“My uncle had me believing a lie. My cousin didn’t correct me. But I can do something to correct what I’ve done. I caved to a man who used family ties to blackmail me. I should never have—” She bites her lip and looks at the ground.

I should feel some kind of way about this apology but I don’t. I don’t feel anything.

“I refused to go back to Texas with Uncle Littlejohn. I know you Alex. I know who you are, how honorable you are, deep in my heart. I will do whatever I can to fix this.” A tear trails down her cheek. It’s a nice touch.

I wait a beat. She doesn’t say anything else, so I walk to the SUV and get in. I don’t look back as I drive out of the lot.

SJ

I’m frozen in the spot he left me in front of the lawyer’s office. He doesn’t say anything before he leaves me standing there. I don’t even deserve his anger. I don’t deserve an argument. I don’t exist in his world any longer. This hollow ache inside me might never go away.

A few more tears fall but I don’t deserve to feel sorry for myself either. Everything that led to this moment, I did. And everything I’m going to do from this moment forward will be to try to fix what I can. Not so he’ll give me a second chance. It’s clear he won’t. If I’m honest, I wouldn’t give me one. But I have to try to make things right for Alex. He’s a good man and what I did to him because I’m broken was wrong. Me and my family, our jagged edges cut him deep.

With a deep breath, I swallow what’s left of my pride and go inside the lawyer’s office. The guy at the front asks me if I have an appointment. “No, but I have information that could help Mr. Litchfield with Alex Craig’s case.”

“I’ll see if he can make time to see you.” The man indicates two empty chairs flanking a window. “Have a seat.”

As in “get comfortable, this could be awhile.” Half an hour later, I’m shown to a conference room. A man who looks to be in his forties with blond streaked hair strides in and introduces himself as Zach Litchfield. “Call me Zach.”

I explain what I want to do but he doesn’t smile or get excited like I expected.

“Does Alex know you’re here?”

“I saw him outside.” Maybe not the explanation I should give, but it’s true.

“There are no charges pending as a result of your interaction with Mr. Craig. So I’m not sure what your statement can add.” As in I’m a waste of his time. It would sting if it were true. But I still believe I can do something to make the situation better.

“I can vouch for his respect for women, the consensual way he dealt with everything between us, and explain what my uncle was up to by blackmailing me.”

“Your uncle was blackmailing you?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

I turn my head and stare at an oil painting of some mountains, probably somewhere in Colorado. It’s a beautiful picture. Not like the one I’m about to paint. “All my life I wanted to be a model or an actress.”

Zach doesn’t move.

“I was twenty-one when I got my big break.” A bitter laugh pops out of me. “Paid one-way trip to California for a photo shoot. I quit my job and went with a stranger who lied to me. My momma told me not to go, but it was just one more warning in a long line of them I’d ignored since I was a teenager. Turned out she was right. It wasn’t—well, it was a photo shoot, but not for clothes or anything. In fact the first instruction was to take all my clothes off.” My throat closes at the memories.

Zach slides over a box of tissues and a bottle of water. I didn’t realize I was crying. After a few minutes of trying to compose myself, I suck in a deep breath. I’m not the victim here. Alex is.

“My uncle, the man who was married to my aunt while I was growing up, came to California and rescued me before things got worse. Worse than they already were. My momma must have called him. I never asked. I returned home, went to community college for graphic design and marketing. Getting my life together sort of. Until my uncle came to town a few months ago and offered a paid trip to Colorado. Said he wanted to help me get my life on track being as we’re family and all. It wasn’t until I was already here that he threatened to post pictures he had from California. I didn’t even know he had them.” I gag at the recall of my mouth around the dick of a stranger I was forced to blow. “Told me he’d show my momma, my boss, he’d post them on the internet. Unless I did this one thing for him.”

“What’s that.”

“Help him take down Alex.” I didn’t have any idea I could be more ashamed of myself than I was in California. Turns out I can be.

“What do you know about what happened when he was dating your cousin?”

I repeat the question in my head, not quite following the change of topic. “I know she stopped spending summers with me once they started dating. She used to come for a couple months every year, but not after.”

“But you didn’t see them together?”

“Maybe once or twice at Thanksgiving or Christmas. But it was holiday time, so I think I met him briefly, maybe? She was gaga over him. Would post pictures about all the stuff they did together and send me emails.” Oh wow. I’d forgotten about that. All the messages we sent each other with our thoughts and dreams, like a shared diary. Like any teenager, I didn’t pay that much attention to what she said, I was so wrapped up in my own dreams of fame.

“Do you have access to those posts?”

“No, she took down all her social media after her junior year. Quit sending me emails too. Then my uncle and aunt got divorced and Alyss and my aunt moved to Charleston. I haven’t seen them in person since that.” She shut down, and I didn’t even notice. Went on with my life like she didn’t matter. I owe her an apology too.

“Do you have the emails she sent you?”

I consider his question and all the folders I have in my inbox. “Yeah. I’m terrible about deleting stuff.”

“Good.” He slides a tablet and a pen over to me. “Write down everything you just told me and everything you remember about that time when Alyss and Alex were dating. Then, if you’re willing, I’d like you to log into your email and we can print those old messages.”

“Will this help Alex?”

“It might.”

A tiny spark of hope flares to life in my empty core.

It’s late afternoon before I finish. I forgot how chatty Alyss was about Alex. It was just the ramblings of teenage girls, one with her first love. Or maybe just her first crush. But maybe it will help him. I’m wrung out like a wet rag by the time I leave Zach’s office. And I still have to pick up my stuff from the Sunflower before I leave town. I dread facing Amy and Tyler and especially Stone.

I call before I leave the parking lot.

“Thank you for calling Sunflower Inn.”

“Amy?”

She sucks in a breath.

“Would it be okay if I came to get my things?”

“When?” That answer stings but what do I expect?

“Now. I’m about twenty-five minutes away.”

“Sure. I was wondering what I was supposed to do with?—”

She stops mid sentence. Wondering what to do with my shit. “Thank you for not throwing it out. I stayed at a hotel near the airport at my uncle’s insistence. Figured it’d be better if I kept my distance.”

She doesn’t say anything.

“Ok. See you soon.” I end the call, hollowed out and now run over. I don’t think I could feel any lower. At least I hope not.

At the door of the Sunflower, I pause, unsure if I should knock or go in. The door opens and a very sad Amy is clinging to the other side. “Thanks for letting me in.”

She nodes. “Your room is as you left it. Let me know if you need anything.”

Your friendship. Alex’s love. A place to belong. “Thank you.”

The climb up the stairs is like revisiting an old memory, except Alex won’t be waiting up there. I won’t be tucked away, writing my book, surrounded by friendship and love I’d barely become a part of before I burned it all down. With everything shoved in my two bags and my laptop in my carryon satchel, there’s nothing left of me here. The beautiful room is unscathed from my heartless actions, unlike Alex. Unlike his friends. Unlike me.

As if I’m worthy of feeling sorry for myself.

I wrestle my bags down the stairs as quietly as I can, but Amy is waiting at the dresser turned checkin desk, the same way she was when I arrived those months ago. One difference—no welcoming smile.

“Thank you.” I wait for her to respond but she doesn’t. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“Safe travels, SJ.”

As goodbyes go, it’s probably kinder than I deserve. But the chilly dismissal makes it very clear I’ve ruined my relationship with the best people I’ve ever known.

The drive to the airport takes forever. I don’t have a ticket booked, but there’s a flight leaving in forty-five minutes for Dallas. Just enough time to make it across the huge airport and through security. I haven’t eaten since the free hotel breakfast this morning, but I’m not hungry. I’m not anything.

When I finally make it back to my apartment after midnight, it doesn’t feel like home. Everything is where I left it, but coated in a layer of dust and detachment. I check my mailbox, stuffed with late bills and final notices. Nothing I can do about them right now. My savings will be enough to catch up the bills. I’ll pay my landlord the month I owe him too. Until I get another real job, I can make do with internet gigs. They don’t pay well, but it’ll be enough. It’s not like I need much.

Except answers. When I remembered all those emails Alyss sent, it’s odd that she couldn’t even talk about Alex. I know he didn’t rape her. Deep in my heart, that’s not the man he is and I can’t believe that’s really the man he was. There’s nothing holding me here, not even a half-dead houseplant. But there is something demanding my attention right now. The truth.

I plug in my laptop and book a flight to Charleston. Alyss will have to be honest if I confront her in person. I won’t accept anything less.