Chain, page 7
“I see your tricks, little girl,” he told her, slapping her bare thigh playfully before hopping out of range of her retaliatory smack. “Can’t be late. Gotta go.”
“I know.”
They shared one final kiss, short and sweet, before he headed out into the main portion of the cottage. She listened to him get his boots on, grab his keys and helmet, and then disappear into the storm.
Wrapping a blanket around her, April hurried to the window to watch him go, unable to stop herself from smiling as he ran along the tree line to avoid the rain. One moment he was there, dressed all in black for a day of shady deeds, and the next he was just... gone, vanishing into the fog and water. Lightning lit up the sky—though it was quite a few long seconds before the thunder followed; the storm was far from Cascade Falls, it seemed.
And soon, Van would be too.
She licked her lips, chilled beside the thin window panes, and then let her gaze drift over to the main house. For all she knew, her mom might have been in there, asleep next to James. The thought made her stomach turn for a whole slew of reasons, and she tried not to focus on it.
In fact, she had to turn away from the house completely. The windows seemed too dark, like big, ominous black eyes watching her. To say it unnerved her would be an understatement, but April all but fell back into bed, exhaustion finally hitting her. As sleep claimed her, April’s final thought was that she hoped she’d wake up worry-free.
A childish hope, yes, but she hoped it all the same.
CHAPTER 9
“I don’t understand why we had to drive all the way to Trentville to get wine,” April said with a sigh, as she leaned on the little green shopping cart. Her mom shot her a glare—though it lacked venom—and then turned back to the shelves loaded with wine bottles.
“You know Cascade Falls is lacking in the wine department, honey,” her mom said, squinting at one of the labels. “I want to make sure we have the best for my bachelorette party.”
April held back her sigh this time, knowing there was no sense in fighting it. Her mom had been partying all summer long with her friends, bringing them to James’s fancy house for garden parties and dinner get-togethers, and yet apparently this bachelorette party she was hosting this weekend would be different. For starters, it was being held at her mom’s apartment, keeping with the tradition of the bride and groom steering clear of one another before the wedding. The place was still on the market, drawing in interested parties each week, which meant April had to focus on keeping everything as neat as possible.
However, she fully expected to have a massive clean-up on her hands after her mom and her friends partied up a storm. There were games to be played, drinks to be drunk, and lots of treats to be devoured once everyone was too drunk to realize how many calories were in each snack. The whole ordeal was supposed to be exciting, but April just couldn’t get herself in the festive mood. Van hadn’t come home, and it had been two days since he went out to make the delivery for his dad.
When midnight hit the first night, April nearly had a full-blown mental breakdown. However, she calmed herself with a few delusions that would tide her over until the morning: the weather was bad, the client was late on picking up the delivery, Van had gone out drinking with the boys after, it was too late to drive home. She thought about all those possibilities, which managed to get her to sleep when he didn’t make it home initially.
But now here she was, two days later. No phone call. No explanation. No Van. She’d seen James when she picked her mom up, but he seemed totally unfazed by his son’s absence. April had tried to talk to him about it, but he seemed distant and uninterested, especially with her mom around. Irritated, she let it slide for the moment, but she couldn’t stop worrying about him. It wasn’t like Van not to return her texts, and if he didn’t pick up the first time she called, he always did the second time. Now, every call went to voicemail, and the worry was eating her up.
In a way, getting out of Cascade Falls and doing a little shopping with her mom was a good distraction. They’d picked up decorations and snacks before hitting the liquor store, and her mom spent a lot of the time asking for April’s opinion on almost everything they purchased. At least that managed to keep her a little busy.
Normally, it was the job of the maid of honor to host the bachelorette party, but, true to form, her mom wouldn’t trust anyone else to throw the bash. She wouldn’t even allow April to play hostess, thinking that it was too much to ask of her. Apparently, throwing a bachelorette party was too much to ask, but playing servant at all these dinner and garden parties was perfectly acceptable.
“Do you think I should get some non-alcoholic wine too?” her mom asked, after loading up the cart with a few bottles of pricey reds. April followed her toward the non-alcoholic wine in question, her lips set in a frown.
“Or they could just drink water,” she suggested, as her mom crouched down to read the labels. “It’s free.”
“Oh, April, don’t be ridiculous.” Her mom started adding more bottles to the cart. “Everyone should be included.”
“Mom,” she said, shaking her head, “you know everyone is going to drink.”
It was astounding just how much all the ladies in Cascade Falls would chug back. Anytime her mom had hosted something since April had returned to her hometown, someone had to be sent home in one of the two taxi cabs in town. Once, much to her horror, an old high school teacher of hers, who’d ended up at one of the events as a plus-one, puked all over the downstairs guest bathroom at the Palmer residence.
And it definitely wasn’t her mom who was doing the cleaning that night. April had done most of it, but she forced Van to clean the spittle that caked onto the toilet.
It took a few days before she felt clean again, the scent of red-wine-tinted puke tickling her nose. Van, meanwhile, had claimed he was used to tidying up after drunks who’d had too much to drink. The memory made her stomach churn; she just wanted him to come home already.
Or, at the very least, return her phone call. Was that so much to ask?
“Honey, look! How cute are these?”
April dragged herself around the end of the aisle, her eyebrows rising ever higher when her mom showed her a few mini bottles of tequila.
“These might be fun little party favors,” her mom said, and before April could stop her, she started shoveling dozens of them into the shopping cart.
“Those are lethal,” was April’s only objection. From her college era, she knew just how dangerous those tiny bottles of alcohol could be. Sure, they looked innocent enough, but they packed a punch; one minute you were guzzling two at a time, and the next you were passing out in someone’s shower. Not pretty.
They were in the mixer aisle for a good ten minutes, her mom going through just about every bottle that was in some way vibrant or eye-catching—as if that made any of that sweet crap taste any better—when April’s phone went off. A couple at the other end of the aisle glanced her way as the device shrieked for her attention, and she turned away, a little embarrassed. To ward off the glare that was bound to be thrown her way by her mom, April pressed the answer button without checking the caller ID, quickly shoving the phone to her ear, her cheeks flaming red.
“Hello?”
“April?”
The voice made her heart stop. Van. His voice was all croaky and tired-sounding, like he’d been awake since the moment he left her, and without a second thought April abandoned her alcohol shopping expedition.
“Give me two seconds,” she said, as she hastily navigated her way through the store toward the exit.
“I don’t have a lot of time,” Van told her, and for a second there it sounded like he was whispering. Panic seeped in, and she almost ran outside.
“Where the hell are you?” she demanded, unable to hold back. It was hard not to be angry at him for leaving her in the lurch, but the more dominant emotion at the moment was fear. “Why didn’t you come home? Haven’t you seen my texts? I’ve been calling—“
“The police have all my stuff,” he said gruffly, and April fell back against the wall of the shop, her hair rustling in the breeze, as cars pulled in and out of the quickly busying parking lot.
“W-What?”
“It was a set-up,” he explained. It took everything in her not to drop to the floor, her knees suddenly weak. “Someone hid drugs in the bag that had the documents. I should have checked it more thoroughly... I just opened it and saw the papers, so... I left. We got pulled over for some bullshit reason before we made it to the drop-off point, and they searched our bags. It was... a lot, April. Someone really wanted us to get taken in.”
Us? More like you. She took a few calming breaths. He’d been gone two days. Two days in a jail somewhere. Sure, he was tough, but she couldn’t imagine the kind of shit that put someone’s mental state through.
“Are you okay?” she asked, trying very hard to keep her voice even. This was no time to panic; Van needed her to be strong. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” he assured her. “No, just been sleeping on the floor for the last forty-eight hours, that’s all. They’re going to try to pin this on me, April.”
“Have you called your dad?” James sprung to mind almost instantly. He was the one who set all of this up; maybe he was actually orchestrating a set-up. “Maybe he... knew that—“
“My dad wouldn’t do this,” he said flatly—though it almost sounded like he didn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth either. “It must have been one of the guys in my crew.”
She nibbled her lower lip, her mind racing a thousand miles a minute. “Where are you, Van?”
“County jail in Bloomsburg,” he told her. “I’ll have to go to a hearing about what my bail will be, but I need you to make sure my dad pays it. If I can’t get out and find a lawyer, I’m probably going to get put away for this.”
“They can’t—“
“They’d love to lock up the Palmer kid,” he grumbled, and she suddenly felt like vomiting all over the pavement. “They’ve been trying to tie things to my dad for years... so I guess I’m the next best option.”
“Is that why you didn’t call him?” She assumed he was using his one phone call to contact her, which was touching. If she was in any sort of trouble, Van would be the first person she would try to reach to help her—and he would follow-through in a heartbeat. She needed to be the same strength for him now.
“What? No... April.” She swore she heard him groan, and she could almost picture him running his hands through his thick dark hair. A gaggle of clearly underage kids hurried by her and into the liquor store, but she figured they’d be kicked out in about ten seconds flat; one of them looked about twelve. Van sighed. “April, I called you because I love...”
He trailed off, and her heart hammered in her chest. Was he about to tell her that he loved her? Over the phone? From jail?
“I trust you,” he told her after clearing his throat noisily. “I trust that you’ll help me, because...”
“Van,” she whispered, cutting him off, “I know.”
He cursed under his breath, and April pressed herself back against the wall as those same underage kids were escorted away from the store by a security guard.
“I have to go, sweetheart,” he said, and it sounded like it pained him to admit it. “Please try to get out here as soon as you can.”
“I’m on it right now,” she insisted, but before she could say anything else, the line went dead. Pulling the phone away from her ear with trembling hands, she finally let her knees give out and she sunk to the sidewalk. Her back against the outside of the liquor store, she placed her head in her hands and took several deep breaths, trying—and failing—to calm herself down. Someone had to have set Van up for this. Not once did it cross her mind that he knew he was transporting drugs. When he’d told her he didn’t do that kind of stuff, she believed him, because she trusted him, too.
Staggering to her feet, April hurried back in the store and tried to find her mom, but it was like she was walking through molasses. Her feet refused to lift off the ground. Her mind was trapped in a foggy haze. When she eventually did manage to find her mom, due in part to sheer luck and nothing more, her mom almost dropped the wine bottle in her hands.
“April,” she said, rushing forward and cupping her face. “What’s wrong, honey? You look like you’re about to faint? Do you need air?”
Shaking her head weekly, she pulled away from her mom and held up her phone. “Van just called. He’s been arrested.”
“What?” her mom hissed, her eyes widening, nostrils flaring. “Does James know?! When did this happen?!”
April relayed everything she could remember from the brief conversation back to her mom, and when her mom expressed how surprised she was that Van had called her first, April tried hard not to scowl.
“That doesn’t really matter, does it?” she snapped, irritated that they were wasting time not acting. “We need to go get him. Pay his bail. Whatever he needs.”
“No, no, we can’t rush in there... guns blazing,” her mom cautioned, taking April’s hand and pulling her over to the cart. “Let’s pay for these, then we’ll go talk to James. He’ll know what to do.”
She stared blankly at her mom, but followed her without argument to the cash register. Ever since the fire, her mom had become suspiciously reliant on James for any big, life-altering problems and decisions. Sure, April understood that her mom would want to discuss things with her new husband, as they’d be making these kinds of decisions in the future together—if April couldn’t put a stop to the wedding—but this was just too much. There was nothing to discuss, nothing to think over.
All that mattered was getting Van out of a prison cell, and April was determined to have him back in their bed by tomorrow morning.
Hell hath no fury like a woman on a mission to rescue her man.
CHAPTER 10
“I’ll go there first thing tomorrow morning,” James said, as April and her mom crowded around him in the living room. For hearing that his son had been arrested two days ago, he was remarkably calm—and that rubbed April the wrong way. Not only did it seem suspicious, but now her mom was going to see James fucking Palmer as the port in any storm just because he could keep his cool in a crisis. She’d thought it after he’d been there to coddle her while her boutiques burned down, and here he was again, acting like the bigshot he believed he was. April pressed her lips together in displeasure.
“Why not leave tonight?” she demanded, glaring up into those beady eyes and seeing no signs of panic, no concern for his locked up son. “Van is sitting in a prison cell—“
“It’s a holding cell at a county jail,” he interrupted, and she swore he rolled his eyes—like she was the one out of line here. “It’s nothing crazy. I’ve pulled my guys out of those kinds of situations more often than I prefer to remember over the years. I know it seems scary to you, but—“
“Have you ever considered that it might be scary for Van?” April snapped, stalking away from him and pacing back and forth in front of the leather couch. To her left, a big screen TV sat mounted on the wall, where she and her mom had found James watching a black-and-white feature film when they arrived at his place. The sun had set by the time they returned to Cascade Falls, the trunk of her mom’s car filled to the brim with booze for her bachelorette party.
“Van is fine,” James said, scoffing. “He’s tougher than you give him credit for.”
“He’s locked in a cage!”
“With his friends!” James fired back, and her mom raised her hands as she stood between April and James, as if that might deflect some of the sting in their words. “And will be fed three meals a day! I can assure you that he’s better off there than any of the half-rate hotels between here and Bloomsburg.”
“This is bullshit,” she spat. Her mom’s eyes narrowed.
“April. Language.”
“I’m not twelve, Mom. I can curse if I want.” In that moment, however, she felt very much like a little girl at the whims of her elders. Neither of them had given much credit to anything she’d said since they told James that Van had been arrested out of town. Her mom had listened to her on the car ride here, readily agreeing to take the drive up to the jail to try to get Van out. However, now that James was smoothing everything over, it seemed she’d changed her tune.
The thought made April’s blood boil.
“Okay,” James said slowly, speaking to her like she was, in fact, a child. April almost crossed her arms over her chest but then realized that it would make it look like she was pouting. “Let’s just everyone take a deep breath. We’re all getting a little worked up here.”
“We should be getting worked up!” Her voice had raised to a shout now, and she ignored the look her mom shot her. “Van was supposed to drive some paperwork out to somebody you work with, and then on the day of, he gets pulled over and the cops find drugs in his bags?! He’d never do drugs, and I know he wouldn’t carry them anywhere. How about you explain to me how that might have happened?”
James regarded her over the brim of his thin glasses, the ones she thought he wore because they made him look intelligent and non-confrontational around her mom. As far as she could remember, she never recalled him needing to wear glasses before. But there he was, looking down his nose at her like he was a principal dealing with an unruly student, and her mom was just... letting him.
“I feel like you want me to have all the answers to this,” he started, letting out a deep breath and pulling his glasses off. April’s eyes narrowed, as she watched his charade, right down to the way he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “April, I’m just as shocked as you are that all of this happened. I hate the fact that my son is in a jail cell somewhere, but I know how this system works. We’ll show up tonight, they’ll load us up with paperwork, then they’ll drag us around until we’re too tired to think straight. This isn’t my first rodeo with these kinds of cops. They want a Palmer in prison because they think my bikers and I are bad news, and I hate that they’ve got Van. I hate it, but there’s nothing we can do right this second to fix it.”
