Escalation - Tessa Teevan Page 0,62
storm. We’re in the eye of the hurricane, and the worst is yet to come.
I hope like hell we make out on the other side unscathed.
And more importantly: together.
The brave face I put on this morning is fading the closer we get to Oak Brook, the suburb where I spent the first two decades of my life. Part of me wants to tell Rafe to turn the car around, that spending the day in bed with him and room service sounds perfect. Screw this investigative crap. I should leave that to the professionals, right?
My rational, inquisitive part stops me though. I have to know what my father was involved in; why Adrian targeted me. I don’t know why I so firmly believe that finding the painting will give us some answers. Perhaps it was my dream. Or Adrian’s interest. Either way, I’m desperate to find it.
As we turn onto my old street, my chest tightens. My racing heart increases its tempo, thumping so rapidly that a deafening roar overtakes my ears. My head bows, and I take short, deep breaths to remain calm.
Rafe must notice the look on my face. He pulls over several houses down from mine, and I continue to fixate my eyes on my lap, not sure if I can take in the sight of my childhood home. Not sure I can be here. It’s as if every good memory disappeared the night he took my parents from me. Now, it’s just the scene of the crime. The place where my parents took their last breaths. The only solace I have is that, according to the detective assigned to the case, they were holding hands. Together in life, together in death.
It’s always been a morbidly comforting thought that they went together.
“You weren’t supposed to live.”
Adrian’s words pass through my mind, and instead of scaring me off, they do the opposite. They give me the push I need to do this. Because, one way or another, I have to know the truth.
Why me? Why us? And if I wasn’t supposed to live, why did he let me?
“We don’t have to do this, Brie. Seeing the house isn’t going to answer any questions. I can turn this car around and drive us as far away from here as you want. All you have to do is say the word.”
His offer is extremely tempting. It would be easy to accept, to go straight to the storage unit like we’d set out to do, but I can’t. Even though I can’t explain it, I know that it’s necessary for me to see the house. One last time. Maybe I can get some sort of closure. A reminder, even, that this place held many more good memories than bad ones.
With a slight shake of my head, I raise my chin and look up at him. The concern on his face is endearing and as he reaches over and takes my hand, I’m confident I can do this.
This was exactly what I meant. He’s essential to my very being. He gives me strength when I’m weak. I need him, no matter how much he tries to deny it. I have a feeling I always will.
“No, it’s okay. I can do this. It’s just a drive-by, right?” I say, with as much enthusiasm as possible, my heart beating rapidly.
“Just a quick drive-by. Then we’re out of here,” he agrees before pulling back out into the street.
I stare out the window as he drives. Memories of sitting in the passenger’s seat of my father’s Volvo or my mom’s Prius flash through my mind, my eyes usually glued to my phone rather than talking with them. All of those times I took for granted. All of those drives I should have gladly set my phone aside to hear about their days or what plans they had for the upcoming weekend. It all seemed so trivial then, and now, I’d give anything to have those conversations with them.
I’m not surprised Conrad Street looks exactly the same as it did three years ago. Every lawn is perfectly manicured. Well, except for the family at the end of the street. Dad swore that it was their sole mission in life to push the boundaries of the homeowners association’s limits. The Schwartzes, an eccentric, older couple whose path to wealth has always been a mystery for the residents of our street. I smile when the lawn, still with a plethora of garden statues, comes into view, and from the looks