Wildcard: Volume Three

“Nothing. Just that you are out of the country, for Jake’s treatment. Scar, I'm sorry. I feel like I’ve gotten you into this mess.”

“God, no. This isn't your fault, Pen. I did what I had to do.” I glance up and see Ryder’s car approaching. “Look, I've got to go. I'll call you later. Let me know if you hear anything else.”

I shove the phone into my pocket and stand up. Ryder leans over and opens the door for me. I climb in and offer him an unconvincing smile. Right away, he knows something is up.

“Is Jake okay?” he asks.

I nod. “Jake is fine. It's just been a long day.” I force a smile and rest my head against the window. I can't tell him.

Because he has no idea that I hired someone to take care of Tony.

I close my eyes in an attempt to hide the tears that are threatening to roll down my cheeks. This is all so messed up. There is no way Ryder will understand what I did, especially after learning about my disastrous past. I can’t even justify it.

What the hell am I going to do?

Chapter Fifteen

Ryder

There's something she's not telling me. Again. Why can’t she just be fucking honest with me? Fuck.

As soon as we arrived home, she went to bed, claiming she had a headache, but I could see there was more to it than that. There was no point pushing her, because she was at breaking point. Then, she was gone before I woke up. She caught a taxi to the hospital because she didn’t want to ‘wake’ me.

This has to be about Tony.

“Fuck,” I curse, as I hurl my foot into the side of the couch. That fucking lying scumbag. He is hassling her again. It's the only thing that makes sense. I didn't pay that piece of shit two hundred grand to go back on his word.

***

“Are you even watching me?” Cally scowls, hurling the ball into the net.

“Are you that insecure that you need me to watch you every second of the day? The point of this is not for me to baby you and tell you how amazing you are. I want you to hit the ball and watch yourself in the mirror. Focus on your swing. Focus on where the ball is hitting the racket.”

She grumbles, but goes back to her training. I look back down at my phone, staring at the number on the screen. His number. Tony’s. I’m on the verge of dialing, only I’m not convinced it's a good idea. What if I have it all wrong? What if something else is bothering her? What if she's hiding more secrets from me?

I want to trust her. I really do. But it's hard to trust someone who has lied to you over and over again.

Before I can fully comprehend what I'm doing, I'm calling him. I have no idea what I'm going to say, or if he will even admit that he's been hassling her. And really, what can I do? It's not like he's going to give me my money back. This whole situation is fucked up.

“Hello?”

I don't recognize the voice, but one thing is for sure—it's not him. My heart races, because I have no idea what's going on. I clear my throat.

“Who is this?” I ask, instead of answering.

“This is Detective Reynolds from the Boston Police Department. Who is this?”

Fuck. My first instinct is to hang up, but I'm calling from my phone. It wouldn't take them long to figure out who I am. I'm panicking, because I have no idea what is going on. Where the hell is Tony, and why are the police in possession of his phone?

“Ryder. I’m Ryder Stevens. Listen, I'm looking for Tony,” I say. My voice trembles. “What’s going on?”

“Sir, what’s your relationship to Tony Larezzi?”

“He's the father of my girlfriend’s son.” There’s no point in lying. All lying will do is make everything a thousand times worse. “What's going on?” I repeat.

“Mr Larezzi has been seriously injured. I'm sorry, but I can't really elaborate any more details to you. Is your girlfriend Scarlett Calera?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Mr Stevens, do you know the whereabouts of Ms. Calera? We’ve being unsuccessful in trying to get in contact with her.”

“She's here in London with me. Her son, Jake, is receiving treatment for cystic fibrosis.”