Adios Pantalones (Fisher Brothers 3)

It took Matson almost two weeks to stop asking about Ryan. At first, he wondered when he was going to be able to give Ryan the picture he drew. It still hung on our fridge, held in place by a cheerful Hawaii magnet. I couldn’t bring myself to take it down, and it would have only confused Matson more if I had.

Each day when I picked him up from my mom’s house, he would ask if Ryan was coming over. And each time I told him not tonight, sweetheart, his smile would drop and he’d stare at his feet until I pulled into our driveway, what was left of my broken heart breaking even m

ore.

Eventually, I had to tell Matson that Ryan was out of town for work, and that we’d see him as soon as he got back. But even that hadn’t stopped his questions entirely. Matson was too smart for his own good, asking to talk to Ryan on the phone, or video chat the next time he called. And when I couldn’t give him either of those things, I expanded my lie, telling him that Ryan was far away. That it was daytime when we were sleeping, and when we were awake, it was nighttime where Ryan was.

Matson huffed out a breath, the way kids do when they don’t like the answer but know they have to accept it. Frowning, he said he hoped Ryan hurried up and came home soon, because he missed him. I wrapped my little boy in a hug and told him that I did too, but that Ryan wasn’t gone forever.

I really hoped that part wasn’t a lie.

• • •

I stepped into the empty elevator and pulled up my personal email on my phone for the first time that day. I’d been slammed with back-to-back meetings and scheduling issues for my boss, so I hadn’t had time to check it. The doors closed as my inbox loaded and a message from Ryan appeared that he’d sent before noon.

I couldn’t click on it fast enough, but being inside the elevator made my wireless connection slower than usual. Tapping at my screen as if that would get it to load faster, I felt my stomach flip-flop with anticipation.

The spinning circle stopped, and his message finally loaded as the doors to the basement garage opened. I stepped out, pausing so I could process whatever he’d said to me without the distraction of walking.

I know this breaks all the rules, but I thought you should know that Derek’s dad is really sick. I’ve been researching his family for weeks now, and I came across an article that said he was in the hospital recently. It makes sense why Derek’s shown up after all this time. Figured you’d want to know. I miss you so much it hurts.

My knees buckled and I leaned back against the concrete wall for support. Derek’s dad being sick made sense, too much sense, but what got to me the most was Ryan saying he missed me so much it hurt.

I was relieved. I was sad. I was pissed. I was joyful. But mostly, I was mad, thoroughly pissed off.

I hated that Derek was keeping this man from my life and Matson’s. I hated that I felt powerless over my own life. I hated everything. But mostly, I hated the fact that I was allowing it to happen instead of figuring out a way to fight back.

Letting my anger fuel me, I regained my strength and pushed off from the wall. Heading toward where I’d parked my car, I nearly stumbled when I spotted Derek pacing behind the rear bumper. My anger quickly dissipated into unsettled emotions.

Did he know that Ryan had emailed me? Was that why he was here? Had he hurt him or come to warn me?

Nervous energy pumped through me as I wondered if he did know, and if he’d buy whatever lie I could feed him to gain us some time. Ryan always knew when I was lying to him, but Derek didn’t know me at all anymore, so maybe he wouldn’t catch on.

As I approached him, I slowed my pace, noticing that Derek still looked unkempt. It was an odd thing to focus on, but the scruff looked so out of place on his face. Maybe he still hadn’t set things right with his dad. Or maybe his dad was really sick like Ryan had suggested.

“Derek?” I said his name as calmly as I could. I needed to know what he wanted without tipping his scales over to crazy town. “What are you doing here?”

His bloodshot eyes met mine. “I need you to go with me to an event honoring my father.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stepped between me and my car, blocking my door.

So he didn’t know about the email. My relief flitted away as anger worked back into my veins, giving me strength.

“No.”

“You have to,” he insisted, sounding unnerved.

“No,” I repeated, my tone as cold as ice.

“You have to come, Sofia.” He slammed his fist on the hood of my car, leaving a dent.

“No, I don’t.”

Every single atom inside me refused to allow me to give in to him. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to Ryan, but I was tired of feeling like a puppet with Derek pulling my strings. I decided that second that I’d talk to Ryan later and tell him everything so we could figure out a solution together.

Derek pushed away from my car and raked his hands through his hair as he paced back and forth. “My father needs to see us together. He doesn’t believe that we’re happy,” he shouted, and I realized he’d given me enough space to get into my car, but I’d have to be quick.

“We’re not happy.” I looked at him like he was a freaking lunatic.

“He thinks you’re still with Ryan, and even though he has no proof, he won’t let the idea go. He’s ruining everything.”