Carter
24.
I tapped my foot against the carpeted floor anxiously, the soft thuds not nearly enough to drown out my wandering, angered thoughts. I was growing more impatient by the second.
Where was Hazel?
Even though I knew her work habits, knew that I could trust Hazel to show up, I couldn't help but to feel a bit annoyed. She could berate me for not doing my job, but I couldn't her?
Still, another part of me couldn't help but think that maybe Hazel was finally bailing. After all, it wouldn't be the first time someone just decided not to show up anymore.
I groaned frustratedly and shook my head. It would be fine. I knew Hazel.
Sure enough, it wasn't much longer before I heard the jingle of keys and the sound of a door opening and closing from the office next to mine.
Narrowing my eyes with a glare, I stood to my feet, ready to confront Hazel for showing up late—but on second thought, I faltered and fell back into my seat.
When Hazel finally came into my room, her horror-stricken, apologetic face told me everything I needed to know, made it easier to keep ahold of the anger sifting inside me.
"I-I'm so sorry for...for being late." Said Hazel breathily, her wild eyes looking anywhere but my face, embarrassed.
"I went—I was supposed to just go t-to the coffee shop, and then I got...got caught up in so—never mind."
Hazel shook her head, then let her eyes finally fall over mine. They were darkened and narrowed in thought. "And then my taxi driver got pulled over for speeding."
The look was gone in an instant, replaced by widened eyes, instead. "Sir. Sorry."
Somehow, I felt my lips begin to curve upward with those rambled, breathy words, but I quickly caught myself and let a hard, displeased look cross over my face.
"Those are your excuses? How about maybe you don't go to the coffee shop and you'll actually show up on time?"
Hazel paused, frowning. "Sorry," she answered simply. "I-I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."
Hazel's choice of wording made my stoic, angry expression falter. She left no room for me to speak, and couldn't help the surprise that began to fill me. That was it? No arguments?
I opened my mouth to voice the surprise I felt, unable to help myself, but Hazel turned away before I could speak.
I tried to get back to my work, per the usual, monotonous routine that was supposed to help me forget about Hazel. But, as time drew on, I found it harder and harder just to clear her from my mind.
Did something happen at the coffee shop? What was she thinking about? I couldn't help myself but to question. Something was definitely off, and I needed to know what it was.
She came to me. Her dark eyes were apologetic as she slid inside my office, but there was something else in them that I couldn't make out. Curiosity, maybe? Hopefulness?
"What do you want?" I asked, sounding annoyed. Not wanting to be interrupted.
"Can I ask you something?" She said.
Her eyes flit over my face, pulled her bottom lip between her teeth when I nodded.
"You know Mr. Riley, right?"
My pulse skipped a beat inside my chest, picking up speed as my own thoughts filled and entangled in my mind. As Hazel's former boss, I was suddenly left wondering just how much Hazel knew. How much did Chris tell her?
Swallowing the lump that rose in my throat, I forced myself to keep my expression level, voice hard. "Why?"
Her gaze fell away from mine to glance around my office, her brow furrowed. "Do you?"
Something in her voice loosened the weight pressing on my chest, the persistence. Maybe Chris didn't say anything at all about me.
I replied with, "he was my brother's best friend."
Then again, how did Hazel know that I knew him in the first place?
"Do you know what he was like?"
"That was more than one question." I replied coldly. I was too afraid of what Hazel knew, the message clear. I don't want to talk about this.
"I just—I just thought you could help me...there were these two guys at the coffee shop saying—" Hazel cut herself off with a shake of her head. "Never mind, I guess it doesn't matter."
Two guys? Anger curled inside of me as memories of the alleyway came flooding through my mind. Did they touch Hazel? Hurt her?
"Hazel, wait. What happened?"
I stood to my feet, making Hazel spin back to face me. I had to know. Couldn't deny that I was even a little bit worried. What had those two men done? Her eyes widened, but stood still, letting my gaze sweep over her, searching for injuries.
Hazel's arms. With the short-sleeve dress she had on, I could see the yellow and purple marks wrapped around the insides of both Hazel's arms, as if someone had grabbed her. They were faint against her pale skin.
Without thinking, I reached out to take hold of them, my fingers brushing over the marks lightly. Hazel winced, but she didn't pull away.
"Did they give these to you?"
"Mr. Wright, nothing ha—" Hazel cut her sentence short, and this time, pulled from my grasp. She shook her head when she looked up at me.
"This is going to sound so stupid," Hazel continued with a sigh. "But there were these two men that cornered me in the coffee shop because they were looking for something that Mr. Riley hid from them. Chase is involved, too."
My confusion and worry only seemed to grow. "What did they want?"
Hazel shrugged. "They wouldn't say, just demanded that I help them."
Demanded that I help them. If Hazel was right, that these two men were somehow associated with Chase, they couldn't have been very friendly. More anger came flooding through me, and my brows furrowed.
But what about Chris? From what I knew about him, he wasn't the type of guy to get involved with people like Chase.
Voicing my thoughts, "Chris would never have associated himself with those kind of people."
As Thomas's best friend, I knew only little about Chris, but from what I noticed, he had always been the quietly polite kind of kid. The kind that rarely raised his voice or got in trouble. He almost never came over—I made sure of that—so Chris and Tomas played basketball on his blacktop driveway and I would watch from my bedroom as they played and laughed and talked for hours on end.
"I don't get it, then," Hazel's voice reeled me from my thoughts, thankful for the distraction.
"What do you think he's hiding?" She added. Her eyes shone when she looked at me.
"Whatever it is, it's probably a good thing you're not a part of it."
Hazel watched me thoughtfully for a moment. She nodded her head.
My phone rang, the familiar shrill ring that made me jump. Annoyance crept inside of me at the thought of yet another work phone call. But, the number that flashed across my screen was unrecognizable.
Hazel turned away to return to her work, but didn't miss the small smile that graced her lips when she caught my eye. Warmth filled me, making me suddenly grateful for the distraction as I pressed the phone to my ear.
"Mr. Wright? This is your number, right?" The voice on the other side spoke quickly, almost desperately.
Immediately, the cold and the anger was forced back into my chest as I realized who the voice belonged to.
Speak of the devil.
"Why do you have my number?" I bit out.
"Your brother's here drunk and harassing my customers, that's why I have your number." Chris answered, just as unfriendly.
"Please come help me out here." He added.
"Why should I? He's your problem, not mine."
Seeing Thomas was the last thing that I wanted. Seeing him drunk, even more so.
"He's your brother."
Shuffling sounded on the other end of the line, muffled voices and shouting that I couldn't make out. I scowled, feeling my stomach drop with all of the thoughts that came flooding through my mind.
"I'm working—I don't have time to handle my stupid brother and don't want anything to do with him."
Chris didn't say anything, but more voices, louder this time, could be heard. One of them belonged to him.
"—is wrong with you, Thomas? You need to get out of my shop right now."
"Call the cops for all I care." I said, though I wasn't sure I was speaking to anyone in particular.
Another pause, and I pulled the phone away from my ear. But then,
"I've already threatened that idea, but he begged me—begged me not to."
Sighing frustratedly, I hung up the phone.
Panic rose to my throat the moment I got to my car. Why was I even doing this? I had too much work to do to care for Thomas, a valid excuse to back out and save myself from the disaster that was about to arise.
But, the part of me that still cared for my brother seemed to outweigh any of the bad. After all the years he spent looking after me, I couldn't help but to continue, fingers clenched around the steering wheel.
All color flushed from them the moment I pulled up to the coffee shop, the sudden panic like a punch to the gut. I didn't move, staring up at the large, lit-up 'open' sign and watched for a moment as people strolled on past.
Here goes nothing.
Inside, I spotted Thomas right away. With bloodshot eyes, he was seated on a nearby couch with a bottle of what looked to be vodka clutched tightly in his fist.
He was mumbling to himself, a string of incoherent words, and unaware of the company standing before him.
"There you are," a voice said from behind me, making me jump. I was completely on edge. "Thank God."
Chris Riley stood behind me, a look of relief crossing his bearded face. My eyes narrowed.
"What is he even doing here?"
Chris shrugged his shoulders, his own eyes narrowing when he turned to look at the drunken Thomas. "Your guess is as good as mine."
I groaned, feeling a surge of confidence as I stepped up to Thomas. There was one thought playing over in my mind, the one single thought that kept me moving forward. Thomas wasn't him.
His eyes widened when he noticed me, but it quickly turned into a wide, toothy grin as he staggered to his feet.
"What are you doing here?" I didn't know why, but I was suddenly seething.
Maybe it was because this wasn't the first time this has happened. Or, maybe it was because of the rising fear that I felt being this close to Thomas.
He took a step toward me, to which I reached out to snatch hold of Thomas's arm. He hissed in pain with my tight grip, struggling weakly.
"Car-Carter,...you're—"
I cut off his pathetic, stammering voice with my cold words."Shut up, Thomas."
I tugged hard on his arm to pull his ear to my mouth. "This is the last time I'm saving your sorry ass—get out of here right now."
When I let Thomas go, he stumbled back, but was quick to gather himself with a smile.
"I'm not causing anymore trouble, am I, Riley?"
Beside me, Chris chuckled and shook his head. "Just listen to your brother. Please."
"Why?" Now it was Thomas who laughed.
With a swig of his drink, he stepped closer to me, making me flinch with our sudden, close proximity and the putrid smell of alcohol. Hazel-green eyes that studied my face were unfocused, yet unwavering.
"Why would I listen to you?"
Thomas took another drink, but was quick to continue.
"The big, bad, and scary, tough guy—you may get other people to fall at your feet, but not me. Not me. I know you, Carter. I remember the—"
With a surge of anger, I lunged toward Thomas. Like a bull, I was seeing only red as I clasped my fingers around his neck.
"Mr. Wright!" I heard Chris's voice call, but I wasn't listening.
"Don't you dare bring that up. Do you hear me?"
Thomas didn't say anything, but his mouth opened and closed, his fingers scratching against mine in an attempt to break free. My grip tightened.
"Do you hear me?"
"Y...es!" Thomas's weak voice rasped.
"Mr. Wright, you're going to kill him. Let go."
Dropping my hold, though not nearly satisfied, Thomas scrambled away from me, coughing and spluttering out "I'm sorry, Carter" over and over.
"I've spent eight years trying to forget everything, forced myself to believe I was doing fine without you. And I was—right until you decided to show up again."
With that, with my blood boiling and my heart pounding, I moved to step past Thomas—eager to put as much distance between us as I could.
But I couldn't leave without saying one last word, stopping in my tracks next to my brother's ear.
"I don't ever want to see you again."
Mr. Wright's first (semi) civilized conversation with Hazel? 👀