I was babbling. And it was going to make Brayden suspicious, so I changed the subject quick.
“Anyway, hey have you heard from Norma? I haven’t talked to her in a while either.”
“No,” Brayden responded. “I’ve tried calling her a couple of times, but she never answers.”
The line was silent for a moment while be both let those words sink in. We knew why, of course. Though I knew better than Brayden did. I wasn’t about to tell him she was probably lying in a pool of her own vomit somewhere with a needle in her arm. Before he went to prison she was just an alcoholic with an affinity for pain killers. Now it was a whole different ballgame.
“I’m sure I’ll get a hold of her soon,” Brayden assured me.
I didn’t want to talk about it anymore, but there was something else I wanted to ask him. Something I knew for certain would make him suspicious, but it couldn’t be helped.
“Hey, do you remember the night before you went away when you had all those people over?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Remember that guy, the one you got angry at me for talking to?”
I couldn’t tell him his real name since I’d hounded Brayden for months and he never told me.
“What about him?” his voice was pure ice. “Have you run into him or something?”
“No, nothing like that,” I assured him. “I just remembered it the other day when I was looking at photos. You never did tell me what that was about.”
“It isn’t your concern,” he said flatly. “And I want to know why you’re bringing him up.”
“I just told you.”
“He lives in Chicago, so you shouldn’t ever see him. Or hear from him. But if you do… stay the hell away from him. I mean it, Brighton.”
“Okay, I got it,” I grumbled.
Why did he think Ryland lived in Chicago?
“Listen, I have to go,” he said. “But I’ll call you next week okay?”
“Alright Brayden, I love you.”
“Love you too, sis. Take care.”
***
By the time Thursday rolled around, I was a loose cannon. I’d spent the entirety of the week googling random bits of information about Ryland Bennett during my breaks, and I was starting to think I had a problem.
Why was I so curious about this man? There were so many unanswered questions. Like how he fit into Brayden’s life, or how he was a billionaire and I didn’t even know it. How the universe had conspired to bring me to the very company he founded and the city that he lived in. Of course, these weren’t exactly office appropriate questions, so I had to resort to google.
According to public record, he used his inheritance to fund the startup of the Bennett Corporation four years ago, and since then he’d never looked back. Every article I found about him was business related, with some generic biographies thrown in. There was no mention of him in Chicago at all, so I didn’t understand why Brayden thought he lived there. The articles said he was a California native and that his uncle was another notable real estate tycoon. There was also a mention that the billionaire was fiercely protective of his privacy, and the rest of his life was a complete mystery. Of course it only made me more curious.
After the incident at the bar, I hadn’t seen Tom come back to work, and I could only assume Ryland had fired him. I asked Nicole about it, but she said she didn’t know. I didn’t really believe that, because she was very reluctant to talk about the situation at all. There had been no mention of what she’d said that night at the bar, but I noticed that things between her and Matt were even more strained than usual. Neither one of them were speaking much at all, and I was starting to get paranoid about the whole thing.
When the opportunity arose on Wednesday, I cornered Matt in the break room at lunch.
“What’s up with you?” I asked, planting myself against the counter while he unwrapped a sandwich.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’ve been avoiding me all week. Does this have anything to do with what happened at the bar last weekend? Did Mr. Bennett say something to you?”
He gave me a disapproving glance as he took a big bite of his sandwich.
“I’m not avoiding you, Brighton,” he said. “I’ve just been busy.”
“Oh.” I blinked.
The room was stuffy, and Matt wouldn’t take his eyes off his sandwich. I couldn’t stand the silence, or the feeling that I was the only one who didn’t know what was going on, so I turned to leave.
“Wait.” Matt sighed.
I turned back to him, and his eyes darted around before he leaned a little closer, gesturing for me to sit down. I did.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on,” he said in a quiet voice. “Ryland told Nicole that he was there because she forgot to turn in some paperwork when she left work.”
I studied his face and tried to decipher what he wasn’t saying. It wasn’t too hard to guess.
“You don’t believe that.”
His eyes shot up to mine and he ran an anxious hand through his hair.
“I don’t know what I believe anymore. But Nicole doesn’t do drugs. Ever. So whatever was going on that night, it wasn’t her.”
“Of course.” I gave him a tight smile.
Over the past few weeks, I’d realized myself that things with Nicole were never black and white. The girl had a lot of secrets, and a darkness I was only just beginning to see. I would have liked to say she was my friend, but at the end of the day, I hardly knew anything about her. She seemed to prefer it that way.
But to put Matt’s mind at ease, I told him what he needed to hear at the moment, whether it was wrong or right.
“I’m sure she was just stressed,” I assured him. “And after what happened to Tom, I doubt she’d ever consider it again.”
“You’re probably right.” Matt frowned. “But I’d still like you to look out for her… if you don’t mind.”
“She doesn’t have a choice in the matter.” I grinned. “She’s stuck with me now.”
***
Nicole had a meeting that night, so I was left to my own devices when I came home from work. The apartment was lonely without her in it, and it made me realize how much I’d grown used to her presence.
Back in Illinois, I was usually by myself. My mom preferred to feed her addictions away from the comfort of our single wide trailer, which was one thing I guess I could be grateful for. I didn’t have to see her in that state the majority of the time, only when she decided to drag herself home once or twice a week.
I thought when I moved to California, my whole life was going to be different. And in a lot of ways, it was. I had friends, a job, a nice apartment. And I didn’t have to deal with Norma-Jean. So why did the silence feel louder than ever?
There was no way in hell I could be homesick, but I knew what was really bothering me. I missed Brayden. And I felt guilty for all the things I had that he didn’t. Since I’d moved out here, I hadn’t been writing him as much either.
He’d been trying to put distance between us since he went away. But I’d fought him every step of the way. Until now. California was changing me.
I kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto my bed with a groan. I’d put it off long enough, and I wouldn’t feel right until I’d written him. So I pulled out my stationary and chewed on the pen while I allowed my mind to wander. Every weekend, without fail, I performed this heartbreaking ritual of trying to find the right words. Words that would bring Brayden a moment of happiness, no matter how small.
He didn’t have it easy in the Greenville Correctional Center. It turned out that even prison wasn’t immune to the local headlines. For a while, it got to the point where he was coming up with all sorts of excuses to explain the bruises or broken bones. Eventually, he gave up on trying to convince me.
When I got the apprenticeship, he told me this was where I needed to be. Out living my life as far away from Illinois as I could manage. But it didn’t feel right without him.
I reached into the top drawer of my dresser and retrieved the photo I kept hidden there. It was the last night that Brayden was home. The same night I met Ryland Bennett.
Brayden was smiling as he wrapped his arm around me in a display of brotherly affection, but the heaviness in his shoulders couldn’t be missed. For as long as I could remember, he’d had the weight of the world on those shoulders. He’d taken care of me since our dad skipped town and left us with a mother who couldn’t cope.
He was the responsible one. The one who never veered off the straight and narrow. He liked to have fun, but his family always came first. His responsibilities. That’s why I’d never been able to truly reconcile with what he’d done. I didn’t believe he could do something so stupid and reckless to cost three people’s lives. It wasn’t the Brayden I knew. But when I told him that, he said it was only what I wanted to believe. The newspapers didn’t have the same problem. They vilified him afterwards, making him out to be a complete monster. It was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing the person you thought was your hero was someone everyone hated.
It had changed him whether he wanted to admit it or not. Over the years, he’d grown harder. His eyes colder. And there was a chasm between us that hadn’t been there before. It grew bigger with every passing year, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I was afraid by the time Brayden got out, I wouldn’t recognize him at all.