Kept Secrets (Secret, Love & Betrayal Novel Book 2) Page 11

  ***

  Kalon disconnected from a call with his mother, Faith, and sighed. A one hour talk about his love life had his head spinning.

  “Remember, I want to see ‘the one’,” Faith announced before ending the call.

  On Kalon’s last visit, he had promised his mother that he would bring the woman he was going to marry for his next visit to New York. His mother had never met anyone he had dated, because he never believed in being with one woman and now he understood why. The type of issues he was having with Taylor had made him second guess his whole “straighten up and fly right” plan.

  Checking his watch, Kalon frowned. He had reached into the cooler under the bar to get a bottle of wine when a soft tap at the door made his shoulders tense.

  He walked the few steps to his door and slid it back; Taylor stood in the doorway with a remorseful stare. “Why you didn’t use your key?” he asked, as he stepped back to let her enter.

  Taylor shrugged her shoulders “I don’t know,” she replied. “I’ve been meaning to give that back.” She opened her purse, pulled out the key, and offered it to him. .

  When he didn’t accept it, she placed it on his coffee table.

  Kalon trudged over to the mini bar and poured two glasses of wine. “Let’s sit out on the patio.”

  Taylor passed through the sliding doors and took a seat on one of the lounge chairs overlooking Navy Pier. Kalon sat next to her and placed the wine glasses on the small white table between their chairs. A cool breeze whipped around them and settled, signaling that fall would soon become a full-blown winter.

  In the far distance, the Ferris wheel circled in the air. He focused his attention to Taylor.

  “Can I have a water instead?” Taylor asked.

  Kalon’s glass paused midway to his mouth. “But Moscato is your favorite wine.”

  Taylor glanced down at the wine glass. “Yes, I know, but I’m trying to cut back.”

  Kalon gave Taylor a leery glance and went inside to retrieve a bottle of water.

  “So, Taylor, what are we doing?” Kalon asked.

  “I don’t know. You asked me to come here.” Taylor twisted the cap off her water and took a swig. “Why didn’t you tell me you came to the hospital?”

  “I thought you knew,” Kalon replied.

  Taylor stared out into the distance. “No, I didn’t know.”

  Kalon thought that over for a minute; it explained her absence all this time. Maybe if she had known, she would have gotten in touch with him some kind of way. “Look, Taylor, I want to apologize for how I reacted that day when I found out you were married. I was caught off guard.”

  Kalon tried to keep his focus on the people walking along the boardwalk down below, because every time he stared in her direction he wanted to hold her, kiss her, and keep her enveloped in his embrace.

  “How did you find out about my husband?” Taylor asked.

  “Patricia,” Kalon scowled, “but that relationship is over.”

  Taylor rolled her eyes. “How do I know that?”

  Kalon let out a long breath. “Because I just told you. And besides, you’re the one who’s married. What about that relationship? Has that been taken care of?”

  Kalon placed his glass back down on the table. “Do you even want to be with me? Because I really need to know.”

  Taylor whipped her head around in his direction. “You’re the player, Kalon, you need to be asking yourself that question. Can you settle down with one woman?”

  “Shit.” Kalon threw his hands in the air. “I don’t have time for this.”

  Taylor pushed up from her position and sat on the edge of the lounger. “Just like I assumed, you’re a sorry ass.”

  He towered over her, and for one brief moment Taylor stiffened under his gaze. He picked her up from the chair and her legs swung around his waist. Her arms curled around the nape of his neck and Kalon molded his lips to hers.

  He palmed her butt cheeks as they kissed. “I’m about to take you right here,” Kalon whispered.

  “Put me down,” Taylor demanded.

  Kalon’s tongue roamed to the corner of her mouth as he continued to taste her. She pushed against his chest. “Put me down!”

  Kalon released her legs and Taylor slid down his tall frame. “What’s wrong, Taylor?”

  Taylor touched her swollen lips and sighed. “I can’t do this.” She paused. “You have problems communicating. I need you to tell me how you feel about me and what you want out of this. Sex is not going to solve our problems.”

  Kalon snatched his wine glass off the table and trotted back into the loft.

  “This is all I’m capable of right now,” he said, Taylor following closely behind. “You have to understand, I’m treading in unfamiliar territory.”

  Kalon retrieved a beer from the cooler and gulped down the contents.

  Taylor looked on, her eyes cloudy as though mulling over what he had said. She gathered her belongings and was out of his loft before he could catch up to her.

  He had the urge to go after her—to tell her that he loved her and that he wanted to make things work—but the fact that she was still married meant she wasn’t serious about him.

  Opening his heart was a big deal and he promised himself that he would only give it away once. If Taylor wanted to be that woman, then she had to show him.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Jay glanced at the car dashboard for the third time. “1:00,” he muttered. He had received some news from his informant about Maci. Apparently, Maci was seeing a therapist in Chicago, before she fled to Detroit. He glanced down at the address on the piece of paper in his hand and stared at the brown brick building in front of him. It was time to pay this Dr. Wolcott a visit.

  Pulling his truck into the parking garage, he snatched his sunglasses from the visor. Dressed in all black he made his way into the brick building.

  A dark-skinned woman sat behind a glass window. She had a headphone set attached to her ear. Holding up one finger, she chatted away on the other end, smacking her lips and rolling her head. Jay scanned the area and the small suite located on the fourth floor, which had six black chairs lined up on the back wall. A few tall, artificial plants sat near the only window.

  Definitely a shrink office.

  “Can I help you?” the woman blurted, holding her hand over the microphone piece on the headset.

  Jay cleared his throat. “Yes, I’m here to see Dr. Wolcott.”

  The woman opened up a flimsy black spiral booklet and said, “Your name?”

  Jay shook his head. “I don’t have an appointment.”

  She slammed shut the booklet. “Dr. Wolcott won’t see anyone without an appointment,” she announced, and continued her conversation on the phone.

  Jay balled his fist on the counter; this woman was really getting under his skin. He tapped on the glass.

  “Yes,” she replied with a head roll.

  He glanced down at the name plate sitting on the counter. “Becky, I need to talk to Dr. Wolcott immediately and you need to get up and tell him that,” Jay spat.

  Becky rose from her seat, her black hair swinging around. “I don’t need to do­—”

  The back door swung open, and a man wearing a white coat with salt and pepper hair, came from out of the room. He walked to the counter. “What’s the problem out here? I could hear shouting.”

  Becky turned her attention back to Jay. “This man wants to see you, but I explained you don’t see people without an appointment.”

  Jay noticed the doctor eyeing him closely. “Please come in.” He gestured his hand toward the door in the back.

  Jay nudged his sunglasses up on his face and strolled into the room. Dr. Wolcott closed the door and folded his arms across his chest. “How can I help you?”

  Jay sat down on the sofa and crossed his legs. In a smooth voice, he said, “I need the file on Maci Anne Drummer.”

  Dr. Wolcott walked around the mahogany desk. “All patient files are c
onfidential, and can only be released if subpoenaed, by the court of law.” He took a seat at his desk.

  Jay smiled. “I thought you would say that.” He rose from his seat and pulled an envelope from inside of his jacket pocket. Tossing the envelope on the desk, he sat back down.

  “And what is that?” Dr. Wolcott asked.

  Jay cocked his head to the side and spoke in a mellow tone, “Its pictures of your twin sons, Tom and Nick. They go to Georgetown University, right?”

  Dr. Wolcott’s face turned a pale white. He fell back against the black chair, his mouth gapping open. “That’s blackmail,” he said in a whisper.

  “The file, doc.”

  Dr. Wolcott spun around in his chair and clicked open the black file cabinet. “What’s the name?” he asked in a shaky voice.

  “Maci Anne Drummer, and hurry up,” Jay said.

  Dr. Wolcott pulled out a manila folder and handed it over to him. Jay scanned through the file and nodded.

  “Oh! Just in case you’re thinking about contacting the police. Your wife Joan goes to the country club on Thursday’s. Maybe I should pay her a visit.”

  “Stay away from my wife,” Dr. Wolcott screamed. “I—”

  Jay held up his hand to silence anything else the doctor had to say. “No harm will come to your family, and this meeting never happened.” Jay turned, tucked the folder under his armpit and walked out the door.

  ***

  Thirty minutes later, Jay sat in his idle truck outside of a Starbucks. Fingering through Maci’s file, he shook his head at some of the words highlighted in yellow.Bipolar disorder, parole officer, and rapewere some of the words his eyes immediately bounced to.

  Jay turned the pages slowly, until one caught his attention. The page read:

  Mother was a drug addict, Maci placed into foster care at the age of five. Raped by one of her foster parents, she received extensive psychiatric treatment. At the age of eighteen, she was tossed out of the foster care system and into the streets. She prostituted for a few years, and then started robbing older men for their money.

  Jay scratched his head and continued to read.

  Being linked to ten robberies, she had copped a plea deal with the prosecutor to opt out for jail time and do ten years of intensive therapy. If she didn’t agree to this deal, she would have done three years in prison.

  Jay parted his lips in surprise and flung his head back against the headrest. He thumbed to the last page, where the doctor’s notes were listed in monologue.

  Doctor: “Do you still have an obsession for your daughter’s father, Ari?”

  Maci: “Obsession? I wouldn’t call it that, doc. I love him. We’re about to be a family. He finally came back home and told me he wanted it to work. We made love last night.” She closed her eyes. “I mean, this therapy is really helping me to see what I want and to go after it.”

  Doctor: “Maci, I was reading over our past sessions we had and you mention that your daughter’s father is married and he told you it was over. Is he still married? And did he tell you he really wants to be with you?”

  Maci: “Yes, he still married, but that’s about to be over.”

  Doctor: “How are you moving to Detroit?”

  Maci: “Oh, a person I never thought would help me did. She actually cares about my daughter having a father and offered me her assistance.”

  Doctor: “And who is this person, Maci?”

  Maci: “It’s Ari’s mother in-law, Tammy Briggs, the wife of Mayor John Briggs of Chicago. See, I got it all under control.”

  Jay slammed the folder shut. He couldn’t go to Ari with his findings just yet. He had to make sure that there were no other people involved in this deception.

  Chapter Twenty

  It was later, and Kalon still hadn’t heard from Taylor. He wouldn’t be the first to call. She was the one who stormed out the door when the conversation got too hot. He refocused on the slim, white-haired man who was speaking on behalf of Johnson magazine. The conference was being held in Atlanta, Georgia.

  Kalon glanced around the room once more to see if Taylor had come. He was sure she would be there to represent Dynasty magazine since they were listed in the program. He glanced over his shoulders and noticed a somewhat familiar face sitting behind him on the fifth row.

  He ran through his mental rolodex and recalled that she was one of Taylor’s closest friends and business partner who had been at the hospital the day he slipped in.

  “Ha!” She sent a representative.

  Kalon jotted down some more notes on each speaker that approached the podium. These conferences helped him to gather his list on the newest magazine companies in the industry, which meant more revenue to help unfortunate kids across the globe to have reading materials in their home.

  The last speaker announced that they would be taking a thirty minute break. The attendees filed out into a break area where bagels, donuts, muffins, coffee, and juice were being served. Kalon swiped a chocolate donut and poured himself a coffee. Taylor’s friend stood by the window, scrolling through her cell phone. He walked over and stood on the side of her, but she rolled her eyes and continued to finger her phone.

  “Excuse me,” Kalon said.

  She narrowed her eyes and frowned. “Yes?”

  The attitude that came through in just that one word made Kalon pause. “Are you friends with Taylor Briggs? I mean, Taylor Gallagher?”

  The woman smacked her lips. “Yes, she’s my boss and best friend.”

  Kalon positioned his weight on his right leg to get a better look at her. “I forgot your name. Linda? Leslie?” He snapped his fingers a few times.

  “Libby,” she corrected and went back to keying on her phone.

  “Sorry.”

  He took a sip of coffee. “How is she?”

  Libby glanced up from her cell phone again. “Maybe you should stop by and see her. I’m sure she has a lot of questions for you.”

  Kalon’s eyebrows creased. “Why do you say that?”

  Libby placed her phone in her side pocket. “Just a hunch.”

  Kalon nodded.

  Everyone started to leave the room to return back to the conference, so Kalon tossed the half-eaten donut in the garbage. “I might just decide to do that.”

  Libby caught his arm before he moved away. “Taylor is one of the good girls. She decided to let you in and she doesn’t do that with anyone. She stands strong in her faith and beliefs, so for her to throw them to the wind says a lot about how she feels about you.”

  Libby locked him with a ‘for your information’ stare before walking away.

  Kalon was too stunned to say a word.

  ***

  Ari punched in the gate code and parked his rental car in the circular horseshoe. After the fight he had with Maci, he was at his wit’s end. When he told her that his job called him in on an emergency flight assignment, she ran and blocked the front door, calling him a liar and accusing him of trying to get back to Taylor. Ari gingerly moved her to the side and she got all up in his face, shouting obscene language.

  “Fuck you, Ari,” she spat.

  Ari held his hand in the air to silence her ranting. “Move up out of my face, Maci,” he warned her in a deep tone. “I told you, I’ll be back.

  Slamming the wooden door, he sprinted down the cobblestone steps and jumped into his car. Turning the ignition, the car roared to life and Ari accelerated to top speed.

  On the four hour drive from Detroit to Chicago, he kept staring at the email with Taylor locked in a kiss with Kalon. He had been so focused on Maci and her drama that he had put his marriage on the back burner. Now someone had swept in and claimed his woman.

  Moments later, he banged on the wooden door. When no one answered, he punched the doorbell a few times until Taylor swung the door open, frowning.

  “Why the hell are—” Her jaw went slack as Ari stormed through the foyer and into the living area.

  “You should have called first,” Taylor spat, sl
amming the door.

  “This is my house, too. I don’t have to call.”

  Taylor stood with her arms folded. “Did you sign the divorce papers?” she asked.

  “First, I’m not giving you a divorce,” Ari announced. “And second, you can tell your little boy toy that your husband is home to stay. His services are no longer needed.”

  Taylor rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips.

  “The nerve of you coming into my house and throwing around demands.” She pointed toward the door. “You can take your ass out the door the same way you came.”

  Ari frowned. He took two steps forward and Taylor took one step back. “You’re my wife, and as long as your name still holds Gallagher on the end, you’re not going to disrespect me and parade your boy around town.”

  “I can do what I want. I told you this marriage is over,” Taylor said.

  Ari’s baritone voice vibrated off the wall as he screamed, “Don’t test me, Taylor.”

  Taylor pointed toward the door. “Get out,” she shouted.

  The doorbell chimed, and Ari sent a swift glance in Taylor’s direction.

  “You’re expecting company?” Ari asked, but before Taylor could respond, he speed walked to the door and yanked it open. The man kissing Taylor in that picture was on the other side. His face was less intimidating than it seemed in the picture; business suit, tall, and average build. A pretty boy chump, Ari concluded.

  “Kalon Knight,” he announced to no one in particular and rolled up the sleeves of his plaid shirt. “You must have a wish fool,” Ari barked.

  Kalon squared his stance and asked, “And what’s that?”

  Ari glared at him, balling his hand into a fist as he replied, “To die.”

  Taylor hurried to the door and stood between the two men, placing a hand on both of their chests. “Please don’t do this,” she begged.

  Kalon slung a navy blue suit jacket off his shoulders and tossed it to the side. “If you knew how to treat your woman, then my services wouldn’t have been required,” he spat.